May 01: Imagine that
Our home’s remodeling process continues to drag on slowly, but the work is slowly taking form. There’s a few weird things that I still can’t figure out though. For example, they redid the ceilings in all the rooms, then put in some neon blue and green fluorescent lights in. I asked if they were temporary and they told me that they were in fashion. Fashion? What about burning my eyeballs out? So I don’t understand the lights or why they refuse to raise the doorway entrance above the five and a half foot mark. Give me a break, guys!
The electrician and demolition guy finished their work the other day and the ceiling guys came today. They are three Uzbek guys who live in Uzgen (hey!). One cool thing that my family does is that we feed the workers lunch and dinner, giving us a chance to sit and chat with them with they aren’t fixing the house or destroying it (demolition guy). The Uzbek guys are pretty hilarious though. The first time we knew we could joke around with each other was when one of the guys acted surprised when told that I was American. I responded by speaking in Korean and he pointed his finger at me and said “You can’t fool me, I’ve seen Winter Sonata!” (Winter Sonata is a Korean TV drama that came out a few years ago and wasn’t popular in Korea, but is insanely popular in other countries such as Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Russia, and Japan.) Later on, they said to each other, “Hey, look at the three of us, eating dinner with an American!” I said, “Touch me, I’m real!” Always a good time to joke with people who laugh easily.
Dan’s sister gave me a bottle of peanut butter and, with it, a confusing label. In Seattle, we have a grocery store called Fred Meyer. I like QFC better, but this is a Fred Meyer story, so we’ll stick with him. The peanut butter’s label says Meijer, but the back has a “Quality Assured” logo with a signature that reads “Fred Meyer.” Even stranger is that the “Meyer” has a really confusing dot placed over the “y” so it could be read as “Meijer” or “Meyer” or even “Mey’er.” How can this kind of problem happen to me while I’m here in Central Asia? It’s tantamount to me finding out that fried chicken is called oil-boiled chicken in other parts of the country. I should be thinking about how to raise money for projects at school or how to write my grant proposal for the school yard, but instead I’ll be staying up late asking myself the same questions.
Who is Fred Meyer? And if he’s Fred Meijer, is he Uzbek? J’s are Y’s in Uzbek, you know.
May 02: And when I take NighQuil...
As we enter the last month of school, my energy levels have definitely been waning and I feel like I’m dragging to the finish rather than sprinting. Of course, this means that I’ve been inundated lately by calls and emails from friends and family telling me to suck it up and regain my fire. One of my Korean uncles sent me an email the other day reminding me that my students are “the future of Kazakhstan,” so I felt a lot better. I didn’t need a pick-me-up, I needed a laugh. I’m in Kyrgyzstan.
We began our 5 week-long malaria prophylaxis treatment yesterday too. The medicine is supposed to save us just in case we get malaria, but it really knocks you out on the day you take it. I need to remember to take it at night now on. I took my first pill yesterday during the afternoon and fell asleep until this morning. I’m the kind of person that gets KO’d by DayQuil, so maybe it works different for others.
In class we’re learning songs because I’m out of grammar points to teach and the kids are out of interest in learning. We listened to I Saw Her Standing There by the Beatles and Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond. When I told them Sweet Caroline was my favorite song, the kids asked if my favorite singer/band was Neil Diamond.
No, it’s Rage Against the Machine.
May 04: The rain of questions
When it rains in Seattle, it just rains off and on for weeks. In Kyrgyzstan, it’s just a constant downpour for a full day or two. As I mentioned before, we get the huge lightning flashes and incredibly powerful thunder quakes as well. I guess all weather conditions here know no moderation, everything is furious in nature: the ridiculous cold, copious amounts of snow, intensity of the sun, and now the crashing rainstorms. Or maybe I’m in Chicago and don’t realize it yet.
If you run into someone here in Kyrgyzstan, you must be prepared to run through a gauntlet of questions:
How are you? How’s your health? How’s work? How are your parents? How’s your house? Are you cold? Are you hot? What time is it? Where are you going? Are you hungry? Will you come inside for tea? Did I ask how your health was?
If you escape unscathed, you can prepare for Round 2 which includes
Are you married? How old are you? How much money do you make? Where are you from? How tall are you? Do you like our Kyrgyzstan? Do you like America or Kyrgyzstan better? Do you know [previous volunteer]? How much does [random item] cost in America? Can I go to America with you? Will you teach me English? Are you sure you don’t want some tea?
I’m always a little dazed after the exchange. I can never tell if I’ve won, lost, or if it was a competition at all.
May 05: Laying it out
With the upcoming environment conference, I basically only have 1 week of school left. That still does not relieve me of feeling worn out and just kind of moody lately. I bummed around and read all day today before heading out to a Kyrgyz lesson I didn’t want to go to. It ended up being the best thing for me.
My counterpart and I used to not get along too well. I thought she was overbearing, she thought that was a signal to crank it up another notch. Our Kyrgyz lessons have evolved to become just an hour long conversation where I jot down phrases or words I don’t know. Immediately she asked what was up because I looked tired, and I let her know everything. I’m living in a foreign country. The yurt really is tough to live in. I’m getting annoyed with everyone sticking their head into the yurt every five minutes to stare at me. I’m sick of the pointless conversations. I miss chicken parmigiana. I’m tired.
And she listened to me lay it all out in Kyrgyz, then reminded me that we were going to this conference in a week, then to a local lake right after that, then I was heading to Korea soon after. We talked about our plans for next school year and how we were going to build it into the best school for English learning in the rayon. About how we would build a resource center stocked with English titles. About how we’d make Bektemirov school the best school to work at for a new volunteer once I leave. Then she told me that if she could do it on her own, they wouldn’t have applied for a volunteer. As I left, she gave me a still warm loaf of bread and sent me on my way. I asked what the bread was for and she told me that I had said everything but “I’m hungry,” but figured I was that too.
She might be the coolest person in the country.
May 07: Excursion
They don’t have field trips here, they have excursions. Once again, I think it’s the differences between British English and American English, but who knows? At least it’s not as bad as when the kids were telling me about a lorry and I didn’t know what they were talking about until the next day. It’s a truck, kids.
Anyway, one of my 10th grade classes and I piled into a small van (seated for 8, we squeezed in 13) and drove off to a nearby river in the mountains. We forded a river, dodged a pack of sheep, and got lost along the way, so it was a pretty standard Kyrgyz car ride. The kids wanted to hike up the hills a little. Big mistake. It ended up being mountain climbing up nearly vertical faces. The lazier kids (and the lazy teacher, me) stumbled down the mountain and played soccer after about an hour of that nonsense. All in all, good times all around. I taught them to wave and yell at people as we hurtled passed them on the way home.
Normal people do that in America, right?
