Joined the Peace Corps. BRB.

Yeah this post is going to be big, but bear with me because I haven't used the internet for awhile. The following are just what I wrote on my laptop daily, I just copy-pasted it here.

Sept 19: The language of instruction

Salamatszbuh! That’s Kyrgyz for “Hello, how are you?” or since we’re friends, we can just say “Salam” to each other. It’s basically “What up!” They’ve also got a special greeting between men only, I believe it’s Arabic. I guess that’s the long way of saying I’ve been assigned to learn Kyrgyz. I originally thought that I only wanted to learn Russian, but Kyrgyz is actually pretty fun. It’s related to Turkish, Kazak, and Uzbek, so the branching possibilities are great. Most volunteers learn both Russian and Kyrgyz while they are here, so again, not too big a deal to be starting off with Kyrgyz.

Our first day of languages was rough. 6 hours of language training was much more intense than I imagined and I can only begin to wonder what it will be like for the next 3 months of this. Tomorrow we meet our host families for PST (Pre-Service Training) during the first 3 months. We learned a lot of introductions, but after about 5 minutes, I’ll run out and will have to resort to sitting and smiling. Lots of smiling.

Sept 20: Outhouse

I used an outhouse today. Well, more importantly, I met my host family today. Actually I’ve only met the mother, Zamira, today, but hopefully I’ll meet the rest of them by dinner tonight. Zamira is a nice lady, 52 years old, and she works at a local office doing odds and ends. The town is more or less a strip of dirty, unpaved road with shacks along the sides and various animals roaming around. We have a bunch of chickens here along with a dog named Ahktush, two donkeys, and a cow out back.

But back to the outhouse. I asked Zamira where the toilet was, and though I had known that internal plumbing does not exist in this part of Kyrgyzstan, I was still surprised when she gave me directions to the back part of the property where a green outhouse greeted me. Using an outhouse is probably the single most disgusting thing I’ve done in my life and I hope I never have to use it again. In fact, I will make a point of being sure to only use the facilities at class for the next 3 months, hopefully staving off my inevitable use of the outhouse again.

Meeting the host families was a frantic and stressful time for the volunteers. The volunteers are literally snagged mid-stride by their host mothers or fathers and dragged away to a table to eat. Zamira grabbed my arm while I was talking to another volunteer and pulled me in for a kiss on the cheek before leading me to lunch. You can’t help but feel grateful for the host families opening up their homes to foreigners like myself, but I can’t shake the small feeling of uneasiness in my heart. It’s the first time I’m away from everyone and everything, and to be honest, I’m a little stressed out by it. For the first time in a long time, I can admit that I’m scared.

I just checked for wireless internet in the area, but no such luck. I must be getting delirious from exhaustion, no toilets, but I expected a wireless hub in the area?

Sept 21: The walk to school

That sound you hear from over the mountains, through the plains, and over the ocean is my sigh of relief. Yesterday was tough, moreso than I could have ever imagined, but after today I feel refreshed and ready to take on my challenges. I met everyone in the town of Tokmok today for a training session (our Hub days in which everyone meets for classes from 8:30 to 5:30 every Wednesday) and was thoroughly relieved to see everyone again. Seeing them smile and laugh released the huge burden of stress that I had been feeling over my move with my host family.

Many of the volunteers are sick though with diarrhea, exhaustion, or common colds. At least 20 people were knocked out today at class due to these problems. 3 members could not take the conditions any longer and have quit the Peace Corps; they will be flying back tomorrow. It was nice to meet you Jessica, Christian, and Ben. After hearing from a K12 about how around 15 members from his group had dropped by the 1 year mark, I was skeptical until my first night with my host family. The Peace Corps’ favorite slogan is “The hardest job you’ll ever love,” truly hitting the nail on the head of our jobs on hand. You cannot survive here without strong determination and a willingness to survive and thrive in absolutely retched conditions.

I walk 20 minutes to my bus stop in the mornings to ride to class, and it’s the toughest 20 minutes of my day because of all the destitution surrounding me. Unfinished buildings, animal feces, and a stench of filth nearly overwhelm me on my walk but all I can think about is the hospitality my host family is showing me. They have nothing, but are taking steps to invite me as a member of their family. I cannot thank them enough. I feel a great desire, almost a need to help. It’s such a weird feeling because I’ve never seen myself as an altruist, but seeing these people breaks my heart and brings tears to my eyes. Tears! I’m not the crying type either, what’s wrong with me?

My host family has a 16 year old boy named Ahdul-let whom I’m growing close to. The guy is awesome times a million and has been a blessing to me. He shakes my hand every time I see him and clasps my hand with his other in a sign of respect. You’ll never guess his favorite show. After seeing my DVD collection, he let out a yelp when he saw...that’s right, Smallville. He did his best Clark Kent impression by pretending to run real fast, and I couldn’t stop laughing. His friends and other men in the town run across the street every time I am out just to shake my hand and say “Salam” which means “Hello.” Local celebrity does not quite suit me, but it is definitely a unique experience. Most people here think I am Russian and just laugh at me and call me a liar when I say I am American. Even a guy on a marshutka (local transportation mini-buses) insisted that I was a Kyrgyz native even though I didn’t speak a lick of his language at the time. Ok, if you insist.

What a long post! My fears and concerns have all been cast upon God lately in my prayers. Though my anxieties threaten to overtake my emotions at times, I am always drawn back by a sense of confidence that I will succeed no matter what obstacles I may face. If God is with me, who can be against me? I never take a step without Him, I guess I just sometimes forget to acknowledge His presence in all that I do.

Sept 22: Stache-tober

I’ve been informed that October is Stache-tober for male Peace Corps volunteers. In theory, the idea that all the guys grow mustaches for October sounds great, but what about those of us who are incapable of such facial hair feats? I promised the only other guy in my village, Greg Ishmael, that I would not back down and would begin as soon as possible. He says a scruffy look will be ok since all the guys will have it. I told him I would be more “peachy fuzzy,” not scruffy.

The wind was howling and the sky was crystal clear tonight on my way to the outhouse. With my flashlight leading the way and Ahktush running ahead, barking at phantoms, I felt like I was in a scene from a horror movie. My favorite. The trip back to the house was definitely abbreviated by my quicker movements. Even so, I could not help but stop and stare at the night sky. The number of stars visible when no other lights are around is astonishing. I was afraid to blink in case I would miss another moment of their brilliance.

Today is the 44th anniversary of the Peace Corps. Happy Birthday PC, thanks for the opportunities now and in the future.

Sept 23: Kalpak

Hope for an exciting and entertaining language class was all but destroyed today by our first real language session. The topic is pretty boring and the teacher, a first-timer, is kind on the short end of the thrill stick. About the only laughs I get out of the day are when one of my classmates mispronounces the teacher’s name as Guacamole. It will get better, I’m just pointing out the reality of it so far.

My classmates made me a card today in Russian, Kyrgyz, and English. For some reason my new nickname is Jai Sean, “jai” meaning “slow” in Kyrgyz. I think it’s because our first day we had to refer to ourselves as “adjective-name” and I didn’t want to be a prick and say “Super Sean” or “Splendid Sean” or even “Stupid Sean” so I said “Slow Sean.” Jai Sean and Woh (My name in Cyrillic) are becoming my new names. I guess it’s better than “Betch” which translates to “Betsy,” of whom we have two.

I got the most awesome present for my birthday: a kalpak. It's a tradition Kyrgyz hat for men, but receiving the thing is a big deal because supposedly it means you are down with the Kyrgyz or something. I'll post a picture when I get the chance, but time's run out on this session.

Take care.

After the work day, a group of the volunteers and I explored our new home’s surroundings. My home being this monstrous Soviet designed hotel. The road leading to the hotel is pretty fancy too. Reminds me of Forrest Gump in a strange way:

[picture of birch tree road] (soon!)

Isn’t this Korean?

[picture of Korean painting] (soon!)

They’ve even got little old ladies.

[picture of little old ladies] (soon!)

I’m alive. Barely. After nearly 24 hours of travel, we finally made it to the Issyk-Kul Hotel at 400 AM. There’s no internet access, so I’m typing out my thoughts before the new day’s adventures erase those of days past. I guess the first thing I should get of the way is: LONGEST FREAKING TRIP EVER. When they say “halfway around the world,” they aren’t kidding. After some restless sleep on the floor at Istanbul International Airport, we boarded a Turkish Airlines flight to Bishkek. I had the pleasure of sitting next to two Turkish engineers who did not speak a lick of English and whom proceeded to get drunk for the next 5 and a half hours on the flight. They sang songs and spoke loudly, thoroughly entertaining me and a young baby ahead of us for the duration of the flight. That must have been one clever baby to laugh and enjoy himself like that. Or one easily amused 21 year old.

Arriving at 120 AM in Bishkek, we were greeted by a cheering group of current volunteers. It was pretty awesome to see them there, I imagine that I’ll be doing the same a year from now. Actually, I might just sleep in. Kyrgyzstan’s hero is a guy named Manas. Supposedly to hear the entire oral rendition of the mythological hero’s adventure you would need several days. According to my roommate, Manas is America’s John Wayne sans “him saving all those wagon trains, damsels in distress, etc.” I like it.

We slept at 500AM to the sounds of wild dogs and wolves. At 830 AM, we dragged ourselves to an early morning breakfast of oatmeal, goat milk (tastes like plain yogurt; surprised us cause we thought we were drinking milk), and odd tasting hot dogs and whipped eggs. The remainder of the day was devoted to orientation and introductions to the staff here in Kyrgyzstan. I met some cool locals dressed in tradition garb. I’ll own one of these hats soon.

[img Kyrgyz couple and me] (soon!)

This is Istanbul. And this is Sean posting from it's crappy, but free, internet service in the airport's concourse. We arrived here at 1030 AM local time and have been hanging out in the lobby ever since then waiting for our 500 PM flight to Bishkek. Since most people did not sleep a wink on the NYC to Istanbul flight, EVERYONE just crashed out on the concourse floor at our gate, sleeping amongst bags, bags, bags, and other volunteers. We attracted passerbys eager to take our picture as we slept or even hop in the jumble and pose for pictures. Of course, I took some photos too, but I can't get to my upload cable at the moment. You'll have to wait.

Long flights are awful, but actually being in a new country is always an amazing experience. Everything is different from the United States, that much was apparent as we descended into a city of older looking architecture and spires rising up among the apartment buildings. Make no mistake, Turkey is still a very Muslim city. We did not have a chance to venture outside of the airport, but I would love to come back and visit the Hagia Sophia someday. I hear it's pretty big.

I saw your emails, and I'm sorry I couldn't respond to them right away. The internet connection here is shoddy and I figured a quick blog post would do better than sending out several individual emails. I'll reply to them as soon as I get internet access next week though. Time to catch a quick nap again, we're quickly becoming Istanbul International Airport celebrities here. I'd imagine we'll be featured on local tabloids tomorrow talking about how a group of American kids turned into crocodiles with wings and wreaked havoc on travelers in the airport. Or maybe not.

At the request of Chris Burns, our Desk Officer for the Central Asian countries, I removed the link to the CIA World Factbook. For some reason, they believe that links to CIA indicate collusion with the US intelligence community.

Ok.

In other news, I've linked a handful of other K13's blogs to this site so you can browse their blogs and read about their Peace Corps rumblings and grumblings. Each of their experiences is going to be unique, so hopefully it will give you all a different look at our time in Kyrgyzstan aside from my own. You can also double check with their general facts just to make sure I'm telling the truth and not joking around. Now when I recount the time we visited a cannibal tribe in the Tien Shan mountains and ate one of their members, you can say "Oh snap!" or "LIES. I read someone else's blog and you guys were picking wildflowers!"

Just FYI.

Orientation is finally over (it felt so much longer than 2 days). I hate clichés, but "out of the fire, into the frying pan" fits the group's mood right now. The idea that we'll be in Bishkek in the next few hours hasn't settled in yet, but the overwhelming feeling in my mind is one of confidence and thankfulness. I'm ready to rock.

Now that 16 hour plane trip on the other hand...

Today's orientation can be boiled down to two words: Bo and RRRRRRRRRRRRRing. It may be just me, but most of the information they dispensed was so generalized and useless that it seemed only directed to those who had not yet realized that they had joined the Peace Corps. The discussion leader even shook a little noisy toy at us to make us quiet. Oh hey, I passed 2nd grade years ago maam. I'm being too harsh, but it was pretty awful, I haven't been so bored since my MacroEcon prof introduced me to Philips' curves.

The other K13s continue to be awesome though, so my boredom is more of a passing occurance. Of course, I like a few of them more than others, but I won't name names. Isn't that horrible? It's just Paul Pierce all over this blog, the truth. There's a ton of oldies too! I am not partial towards the younger crew, but I am impressed by the number of older folks who felt their calling to the Peace Corps so late in life. Well, maybe not so "late in life," some are in their 30s.

Now that our lecture, er first day of orientation, is over, I'm heading out to eat dinner with some K13s. Maybe some Mexican? Japanese? Italian? The Peace Corps gave us $180 to us to dine and shine, so maybe I'll be in the mood some sushi before we leave. The only raw thing I may be eating in the next few years might be goat eyeballs.

I just emailed my friends and family telling them about this site. In other words, self-censorship is now in effect.

Just kidding, but Welcome, Bienvenue, Willkommen, Recepción, 어서오세요, and of course, Добро пожаловать. No, I don't know how to pronounce the Russian yet.

I changed the comments form on this page because I noticed other K13s were getting these random comments like "This is a good blog. Please visit my blog: FORDCHEVYTOYOTA TRUCKS SALES" or "BUY VIAGRA CHEAP HERE." I'm not in the market for trucks or Viagra, so now you have to type in some word at the bottom of the form as a security thing. It's easy, you guys are smart, I'm sure you can handle it.

I talked to a friend yesterday about leaving soon. She said "Wow you are soooo relaxed about leaving, I thought you'd be more nervous." I laughed and told her "Yeah I'm calm."

Calm like a bomb.