Everyday is Learning Day, In Kyrgyzstan

Hello. I have a new blog entry and here it is.

So what’s up with this country Kyrgyzstan? I’ve never even heard of it? Kyrgyzstan is located in Central Asia and borders Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and China. It is a small country about the size of Nebraska and is famous for not only its gorgeous mountains but also its Lake Issyk-Kul (the second largest alpine lake in the world). The geography and scenery in this country is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Some of the most spectacular sunsets I’ve every scene have been from my outhouse! Kyrgyzstan’s capital city is Bishkek and is home to a variety of ethnicities. Since I’ve learned Kyrgyz, I find it difficult getting around this city since many speak Russian here. Kyrgyzstan is divided into seven oblasts (similar to states in the US); Chui, Talas, Issyk-Kul, Naryn, Jalalabad, Osh, and Batken. The people of Kyrgyzstan are very friendly and extremely welcoming to visitors. I’ve never had people bend over backward for me to make me more comfortable when guesting at their home. Kyrgyzstan is a fascinating place with a fascinating history. According to historians, the Kyrgyz are ancestors of a tribe from the Tien Shan Mountains in Eastern Kyrgyzstan and North Western China who migrated to the Yenisei River Valley (Kind of near modern day Novosibirsk in Siberia) between 500 and 800 AD. From 800 to 1000 AD the Kyrgyz migrated from the Yenisei River and settled in Semirechiye (Modern day South Eastern Kazakhstan and the Chui, and Issyk-Kul Valleys of modern day Kyrgyzstan). In the early 1200’s the Mongols, lead by Genghis Khan, swept across Asia and by 1207 the Kyrgyz were absorbed into the Mongol Empire. With the death of Genghis Kahn in 1227 the Mongol Empire was split leaving the Kyrgyz to Chagatai Khanate (Genghis Kahn’s second son). Between 1200 and 1500 the Kyrgyz tribes moved into present day Kyrgyzstan. During this time the Kyrgyz developed their nomadic lifestyle (Vertical Pastoral Nomadism) of living in the lowlands in the winters and moving to the mountains in the summers. Fast forward a bit to 1800’s. The Kokand Dynasty was part of a trio of khanates, (the other two from Khiva and Bukhara) established in 1747. These three khanates were the last of the pre-Russian dynasties to dominate Central Asia. During the 1820’s the Kokand khanate was making their way into the Tien Shan’s, the Chui and Talas Valleys, Issyk-Kul, and the Alay Mountain Range in southern Kyrgyzstan. The Kyrgyz sought the help of their newly formed allies, the Russians, to rebel against the Kokand. In 1862 Kyrgyz and Russian forces destroyed the Kokand fortress in Pishpek (modern day Bishkek). The Russians then pushed the Kokand back which lead to the invasion the Kokand Khanate and seizure of Tashkent (capital city of modern day Uzbekistan). From here the Russians establish the Turkestan Government. Fast forward again to 1917 when the Bolshevik Revolution in Moscow and St. Petersburg. This revolution hits the Turkestan government and in 1918 it became part of the Soviet Socialist Republic. Come 1921, Central Asia was declared by Soviet Congress to be a resource to feed its economy and in 1924 the Nationalities Policy was created to divide Central Asia into 5 countries. By dividing the region into five countries, the Bolsheviks could more effectively rule the area. Doing this could minimize the chance of an Islamic uprising against the Bolshevik government. Unfortunately, the division of these nations has created the ethnic relation problems of modern-day Central Asia. By the 1940’s, with the help of Stalin, the Kyrgyz became a more settled people, leaving the nomadic lifestyle they had lived before. Prior to the Bolshevik revolution, the Russians in Kyrgyzstan had confiscated land from the Kyrgyz. This land that was once occupied by Russians was given back to the native Kyrgyz to suppress any anti-Soviet hatred. Soon the quality of living in Kyrgyzstan rose dramatically. Streets, cars, modern –day technology were introduced in Kyrgyzstan and soon Soviet-style schools opened up. Kyrgyzstan was moving from the old nomadic lifestyle into one of modern-day technology and ideals. Kyrgyz even fought alongside the Soviets during World War II. As Kyrgyzstan continued to develop more and more jobs opened up and more Russians migrated. With the collapse of the Soviet Union in August of 1991, Kyrgyzstan found itself as an independent nation: The Kyrgyz Republic.

The Kyrgyz Family Life

I’ve been living with my permanent site host family now for about 6 months now and it’s been an experience, to say the least. At first it was pretty rough. I’m the second volunteer to live with this particular family so the only basis of comparison for them was the previous volunteer. I would constantly be compared to the previous volunteer; especially when I would do something they didn’t like. For instance, “(Previous volunteer’s name) always had milk and sugar with her tea. Why don’t you?” Or “(Previous volunteer’s name) never ate lunch like you do.” Etc. Etc. So it wasn’t just me who had to do some cultural adjusting to do, my host family needed to adjust as well. For example, the previous volunteer never ate lunch. I on the other hand get pretty hungry by mid afternoon and need something to eat other than bread. I would have to explain to my host mom that I get pretty hungry mid day and need some food to keep me going. It’s not uncommon for Kyrgyz people to go for days just living on bread and my family found it strange that I was such an eater. After attempts of cooking buckwheat and carrots for myself at lunch, my host mom started cooking it for me, since she finds it culturally offensive that a boy would cook food for himself. So my host family and I came to an agreement that she would cook for me everyday which took some adjustment on her part. Now every day after my morning classes I got some lunch waiting for me at home! Thanks host mom. My host father and I have had a couple battles in the past. I won’t go into detail about it but it was about money for food. We did eventually come to a reasonable agreement on money for food but it did take some explaining that I only get a modest living allowance. We’ve had a few scuffles but now things are going very well between my host-family and I. We now have conversations at meals which, at first, were difficult for me. Now we joke around quite a bit about stupid stuff. I help my host dad shovel snow and help my host bother chop wood. I’ll go outside to the well and fill buckets of water for my host mom. I help my host sister with her homework and play cards with her almost every day. Even my host brother’s one-year old daughter who lives with us and she has taken a liking to me. I’ll be in my room reading a book and she’ll come running in my room with no pants on wanting attention! Good times good times. So things now are going very well with the host family, however, it did take some big time adjusting and learning on my part. Getting used to life at the dinner table (actually we eat our meals on a short table and sit on the floor) was an adventure in its own. The magical “Mom’s spit” takes on a more practical use here in my host family. My host mother will clean dishes by wiping them with her fingers and licking them clean. At first I was pretty disgusted but now I hardly notice. My older host brother’s one-year-old daughter will vomit every so often at the dinner table. Cleaning the puked up potatoes off of her little face is cool in my book, but cleaning off her face and then eating the puked up potatoes that were just semi digested in a foreign stomach is, well, um… yeah…. Even if it’s just from your one-year-old daughter, that’s still pretty wild. Eating with my bare hands has taking some adjusting as well. Whenever there’s meat on the table it’s usually still attached to the bone. Watching my adorable little 10-year-old host sister gnaw a sheep bone clean would leave anyone in awe! Getting used to eating at the dinner table took some time getting used however I now feel pretty comfortable eating around the host fam. Probably the most difficult thing, something that I’m still struggling with a bit, is lack of privacy. During the intense cold of December and January my room would get pretty cold. So in order to keep my room warm I would have to leave my door open to get warm air into my room from the furnace. By leaving my door open in the evenings often lead to unexpected intrusions from fellow host family members. This can make things pretty stressful given that your only place of privacy is being invaded. However since leaving my door open my family seems to be much happier. I can understand this since it must be weird for them having a guest in the house with the door shut all the time. Privacy is an interesting thing here in the village. As a matter of fact, there really is no such thing as privacy here. In Kyrgyz culture the family operates as a unit; a collective culture. Families sleep together in the same room in their homes. It’s not possible to walk through the village without greeting someone and having a small conversation. It’s pretty cool seeing the same people every day and saying hello and chatting for a few minutes, however, on bad days when you really don’t want to talk to anyone it’s almost impossible to avoid conversation. Here is something I’ve learned. When it was too cold to go jogging outside I would often jump rope in the sports hall at school for exercise. The sports hall is adjacent to main, and only, hall at my school. While I’m jumping rope, children would hear me and want to see what’s going on, so, they would poke their little heads in and watch me. Children will stare and whisper to each other as if they’re at a zoo watching monkey’s eating bananas or something. It’s pretty awkward having people watch you like that. Pretty soon more and more kids will come into the room just to watch me jump rope. Before I know the whole sports hall has erupted into a party complete with local boys playing ping-ping! Just when you thought you had some time to yourself for a little jump rope, think again. The first few weeks of exercising in the sports hall were pretty awkward. I’ll be doing stretches on the wrestling mats and students and teachers would poke their heads in and watch. Despite the extreme awkward feeling of being watched I kept doing my thing. Pretty soon people stopped watching me. They walk by minding their own business knowing that what I’m doing in there really isn’t all that exciting. They’re probably thinking, “oh it’s just Mike doing his thing in the sports hall. Whatever.” Even when local boys my age come into the hall to play ping pong I’ll just continue minding my own business. Before, I was pretty self-conscious about people watching me exercise. Now I’ve figured that since this is such a collectivist culture why try and hide what I do? So now I just go with it. Even when they ask what I’m doing I just tell them I’m just having fun and exercising.

The English Club
I mentioned earlier that I had started an “English club.” There was a pressure from the students and school director for me to start and English club right off the bat when I was only a month in site. I was pretty opposed to this idea since I was still trying to figure out school, let alone life in a completely different world than my training site. So I took my time and started my English club the following quarter. I created three English clubs; one for 6th and 7th formers (Wednesdays), one for 8th and 9th formers (Mondays), and one for 10th and 11th formers (Tuesdays). Each club was to meet for one hour at 3:00. Thanks to the previous volunteer I have all I need to make an awesome English club. There is a television with a DVD player and a book shelf filled with children’s books with authors like Dr. Seuss. So looks like I got what I need to have an awesome club. Alright now that I got everything I need it’s time get down to work. So it’s the first week of the new quarter and all the interested children have come (about 15 of them, 6th and 7th formers) and are sitting there with their winter coats on because it’s freezing in this room. Alright so let’s uh…Wait… Hmmm…. So what am I doing? What do we do in English Club? I’ve got a DVD player with some movies like Shrek but there’s no electricity so that’s out. How about I look in the bookshelf? I grab the most colorful book of the bunch: One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. I turn back to face the students sitting quietly and waiting for me to entertain them. “How about we read a book today?” The students look at each other, yawning a bit. I start to read and already the kids are getting bored. When I finish the book the children perk up and ask if we can play a game. “Alright, let’s see what we got.” I ruffled through all the cabinets and pulled out a deck of Uno cards. “Uno anyone?” The previous volunteer had already taught them how to play so we got right down to playing and they seemed to perk up. A half hour into it they’re having a ball but at the same time I’m thinking ‘is this what I should be doing in English Club?’ The hour is up and the students head for the door. Weeks go by and I find myself getting very lazy about doing something productive in this so-called English club. On the days we have electricity I pop in a DVD and the students are glued to it for an hour and then they leave. On days without electricity we’ll play Uno or Go Fish. My counterpart and I spend hours teaching together, making lesson plans, and coming up with new ideas for class and this leaves me with little motivation to do any more English-teaching type work. So lately I’ve just been cruising on this whole English club business. Then one morning at school I was having a chat with my 9th graders before class started. I asked why only 3 students showed up for English club yesterday. The kids didn’t answer. I turned to my counterpart telling her that I was hung out to dry yesterday and she asked the students what was up. The kids, thinking I wouldn’t understand them, told my counterpart that my club was ‘uninteresting and boring and all we do is play cards.’ This struck me in the heart pretty hard. I figured the things we do in club are kind of boring but the students get a chance to hang out with me on a more casual level. So I took it kind of personal. I thought I was much more of a cooler guy to hang out with than these kids actually thought. I beat myself up about this for a bit. I figured I deserved a little rejection for being so lazy about club in the first place and came to the conclusion that I’m going to have to step it up if I want to get these kids interested in English club and maybe even getting them excited to learn English. I’ve been talking to my counterpart about ideas on how I can get this club rolling. She suggested that I make club somewhat similar to class but always throw something fun in there. I figure I should having about ¾ of the hour based on learning English and the last quarter just be hanging out or watching a movie. This would motivate the children to work towards their fun time. We’ll see. As usual, it’s going to take some trial and error but I’ll figure out some way to get these kids going.

On the Receiving End

I was hanging out with some volunteers in Naryn the weekend before and I caught a pretty nasty cold. On this day I woke up not feeling so hot; still sick. I got ready and walked outside to go teach class. To my dismay it had started snowing again. It sucks becuase when you think it has stopped snowing for the year you get dumped on some more. It was really early in the morning and I just wanted to go back to sleep and feel better but before I knew I was in the classroom teaching. No turning back here. I pushed through the day and crunched some lesson plans out with the counterpart. I went outside for a breather in between classes when I saw a large van parked outside the school. Anarbek, the school’s history teacher, and the van driver were unloading box after box from the van into the school. I didn’t think much of it when I came back inside the school and saw the long line of students coming out of the sports hall. Lots of excited chatter amongst the students illuminated the building. I’ve never seen these kids so excited before. I pushed through the crowded hallway to see what was going on and peered in through the doorway. From the large brown boxes students were handed shoe box-sized packages. Each package was labeled either ‘for a girl’ or ‘for a boy’ and ages 5-9, 10-14, and 15-18. I asked the school director what was going on and she said that these boxes were full of toys, candy, and clothes sent from America. Young students from America prepared these packages and donated them through a world-wide relief organization who gave care packages such as these to young underprivileged students around the world. “That’s pretty sweet,” I thought and not thinking much about it, I went to prepare for my 8th form class. My counterpart and I were giving a test today and we needed some time to write it up on the board. My counterpart and I were writing the test up on the board as each student came inside. Lots of noise and jumping around were going on behind me; a typical day. I turned around to greet my 8th formers but they were too busy opening up the packages they just got. Students pulled out everything from scarves, to colored pencils, super balls, and bubble gum. We managed to get the children to finish the exam without too much distraction from the gifts but when I was teaching my 7th formers the following hour it was no use trying to keep their attention. Every time I turned my back to them to write something on the board the students would crowd around each other to compare gifts. I kept trying to hold their attention to English lesson but it really was no use. With ten minutes left in the class I sat down at the teacher’s desk and let them play the rest of the period. I watched one of my students spinning a top on his desk thought about when I was really young and the letters we used to write in school to students my age around the world. At the time I never thought about how a kid from Africa might react to a letter from a boy in America. I don’t recall ever mailing any packages full of toys to children but I do remember donating old toys and clothes to organizations that gave them to underprivileged around the world. Again I never thought what kind of impact it would have made but today in front of my eyes I could truly see what it could do for someone. I’ve never seen these kids so excited before since I’ve been here and it truly was remarkable. Later that afternoon the elementary school students received their boxes of toys. This was a sight to see. A familiar 2nd form girl who’s a neighbor of mine walked passed me with her box, half opened and streamers spilling out the side of it. She walked very upright with her head held high and smile from ear to ear. “Hello Mike!” she said. What a day. On my way out to go home that day the sun was shining like none other. It was warm enough for me to keep my jacket off the whole walk back. Snow had actually melted a bit, revealing the muddy dirt paths in my village. It was a taste of the spring that is soon to come! It was a magical day nonetheless.

The Snow that Humbles You

Here in Kyrgyzstan, especially here in the Naryn Oblast, we get a bit of snow. This winter we’ve had a little over a half-meter (two feet or so). I grew up and lived in California and Oregon so I’m not all that familiar with this snow. Though when I was in Oregon we did get a little snow but it’s nothing like the snow fall here. I bought a decent pair of snow boots at the Naryn bazaar for about 1800 Som and they seem to work fairly well. With these boots I don’t slip and fall as much as I would when I would be wearing my normal shoes. I’ve taken a number of spills on the frozen sidewalks of Naryn wearing my Nikes. These boots are fairly water proof so my feet aren’t soaking by the end of the day. Don’t think that this is just about me complaining about the cold and snow here. There is more to my experience here this winter than simply battling this brutal cold and annoyingly wet snow. We had a little winter break at the end of December. Me and some fellow volunteer friends went to Karakol, in Lake Issyk-Kul, for a few days to hang out with some fellow volunteers. After a good time I came back to my village I found that I had nothing to do. There was no school and it was too cold to do anything real active. I tried to go jogging but the snow had covered the paths pretty deep and my eyelids would get frozen shut! Scratch that. Because of the cold few cars were travelling to and from Naryn. I didn’t want to wait more than 20 minutes outside in the freezing cold weather at the bus stop to get a car to Naryn to hang out. My counterpart and I had finished writing lesson plans for the first week of school in January so there wasn’t really any planning that had to be done for school. I had about 10 days of nothing to do in my village. I planned I would try my best to entertain myself before In-Service Training in Bishkek. In-Service Training is an extension of Pre-Service Training, only it’s after you’ve been at your working site for 5 months. IST consists of team-teaching seminars, living in Kyrgyzstan life skills like cooking with limited appliances, and health lessons. Plus it’s also a great time to see all the other volunteers you hadn’t seen since PST. I have some friends in the south (Osh and Jalalabad) who I’d never usally see working in the field. The easiest way to get to Bishkek from the South is by flying. There is a road from Bishkek to Osh/Jalalabad but it can take up to 12 hours to travel by taxi. I hear it’s a pretty beautiful ride... Anyway, I’m stuck in my small isolated village with nothing really productive to do. I had a fun New Years with the host family. We drank Bozo and ate Besh Barmak, from cow meat this time (not sheep), and it was pretty good. Still, though, I had eight more days to myself and I needed to do something. So I read quite a bit and studied Kyrgyz but still you can only do that for so long. We had an optional language test at IST and I wanted to score pretty high so I would talk with my family for practice. By day five I hit a hard low. The cold was at its lowest,-40 C (which is -40 F). I was stuck in my room and a depression sunk in. It was either a hard depression or extreme boredom but none the less I felt awful. It was really just too much time in my head and I really needed to something going. The next morning was a cold but sunny one and I decided to lend my host father and host brother a hand with shoveling the snow that had covered the walkway to the outhouse. I had never shoveled snow before in my life but I figured since I was an NCAA Division one wrestler a couple years back that this snow shoveling business would be a joke. My host dad had already pushed the snow creating a pathway to the toilet and it was now our job to hurl these piles over the fence into the next field over. So he handed me a shovel and we got to work. He showed me how to carve out chunks with the shovel and scoop them out from underneath and then hurl them over the fence. I started out slowly. Carefully carving out the frozen chunks and, being extra careful not to spill, tossed ever so gently over the fence. Once I caught on to the groove of this I picked up the pace and before I knew it I was a snow shoveling machine! You should have seen me go! I had the sequence down and I felt nothing could stop me. When my arm that I held the shovel in the front would get tired I would switch hands and get going again. Before I knew when had finished the work for the day. We locked up the shovels and went in for some tea and fresh baked bread that my host mom had made. My mood had lifted and I felt great. The next day I got up eager to do some more snow work. I looked out the window and saw that my host father and brother were walking about outside, dressed, and ready to do some more shoveling. I threw my jeans on, bundled up, and jumped outside; ready for another day of shoveling snow! I approached them offering a hand. They definitely didn’t look as excited as I was to shovel snow but they were glad I was willing to help. We got started right where we left off the previous day on a different set of large piles. Again I started out slow and gradually picked up my pace; while still carefully balancing blocks of snow on my shovel and tossing them over the log fence. We continued this for some time when we stopped to take a breather and to look at the progress we had made. I was pretty tired by now and noticed that we still had two more huge long piles to take care of; more than what we did the previous day. I began thinking “man this is gonna be a long day.” We got back to work; carving, scooping, and tossing. We were about half way through the second pile when I started feeling pain in my back. My shoulders and arms were pretty sore as well and I was growing tired. I told my host brother that I was going to go back inside. I was calling it a day. I felt bad that I had left my host brother and my host out there to finish the work but at the same time I didn’t want to hurt myself over something like this. The next day I was feeling better and decided to help out again with the snow. I was able to finish a couple piles with my host brother. Still just carving out chunks of snow from the piles and hurling them over the fence. I got a really good technique down where I would squat with the shovel handle against my back leg. I would pop up, bending the shovel over my back leg (like a teeter-totter), scooping the block up off the ground ease. This helped me not only shovel snow faster but it was also putting way less stress on my back as well. By the end of the week we had completely removed all the extraneous snow that was piled about my host family’s property. It was a pretty cool feeling getting work like this done however my next snow shoveling experience was a bit different. With Spring just around the corner the weather has been getting warmer lately. The sun is starting to shine much brighter that it has in the past few months and this means that the snow is starting to melt. The next job to do with this snow is to remove it off the roof of our homes before it melt completely and floods everything. So two weekends ago I offered to help my host father shovel the snow off the roof of the small barn behind our house. We climbed to the top and began scooping and tossing. I was eager and excited to get back into shoveling snow so I didn’t start off slow as I had done the previous times. Thinking back I really should have started off a little slower because I felt a painful strain in my back when we were just getting started. Not to mention I hadn’t shoveled snow in month so I was a bit out of shape. I stretched out a bit and we finished getting the snow off of the roof and into the sheep and goat pen. Now we had to get the snow out of the pen and over the fence into the field bordering the property. We got the sled out and started trucking piles of snow next to fence. Once we had all the snow against the fence we started scooping and hurling it over the fence. We were about halfway through when the pain in my body grew more. I pushed myself and I started to feel sick. It was strange; something about shoveling snow this time around got to my head. It was probably because I had strained some muscles in my back. Sure it was stressful on the body but more than anything it was the monotony of it all that got to me most. Doing the same thing over and over got to my head little bit. Thoughts like “Mike I thought you were tougher than this! This should be kid-stuff compared to what you used to do!” Oh man it was bad. We finished the work after a couple of hours and headed back inside for some tea. I got a pat on the back but I headed to my room with my tail between my legs and a sore back. I got my sweaty clothes off, lay down on the floor of my room, and thought for a bit; staring at the ceiling. Still sweating I thought to myself, “This is how it is living the real rural village life. This is how people out here live day in and day out. It sure isn’t easy. And it hurts!” I don’t like to admit it but had thought I was tough for being a wrestler and all, but I had never done work like this before. I had gotten a small taste of real manual labor. My mind continued to process the experience. “This is just shoveling snow too. This isn’t even the hardest of work to do out here! And to think that all I do out here is teach English. Man I got it easy.” What got to me most is that this is the kind of work that young boys in my village to everyday. They go to school and then come home to shovel snow, herd cattle, feed cows, and chop firewood. That’s how they live out here! The thought of how easy I had it growing up compared to these boys is humbling. I woke up the next morning, still feeling crumby about my hard realization the previous day and did my laundry (I do it every other Sunday or so). I’ve gotten pretty used to washing my clothes by hand but nonetheless it still is a difficult and tedious task (much like shoveling snow). Since then I’ve continued to help with the shoveling and have gotten used to it. Though I have to admit, it still is a pain to do.

Thinking Outside the Classroom

What’s cool about working out here is that I’m not just limited to teaching English. I can start all kinds of clubs, help other volunteers with projects, and get involved in community activities outside the classroom. I’ve decided to take on a small project of my own. I want to have a sports camp and health seminar for students at my school this upcoming June. I’ve started taking requests from students on what they would like to do for a short camp this summer. I’ll be heading up to Bishkek in the middle of March to learn how to write grants and make projects. I’m looking forward to having this camp with the kids. I really like my kids and I think this would be a great opportunity for them to learn more about their health and have a good time.

In Conclusion

Time goes by fast. I really haven’t been here that long but it kind of feels like I’ve been here a very long time. At the same time, though, it goes by fast. I guess it’s the fact that a lot has happened since I’ve gotten here. Certain moments here in country make you think and reflect how you’ve changed as a person since first getting here. Take, for example, my last visit to my PST host family in Kant last December, just before In-Service Training. Upon our arrival in Kant, some fellow Naryn volunteers and I went to the old internet café in Kant to check our E-mail. I would come to this same place to send emails and upload blog entries during PST. I remember feeling very stressed out while I was here. I’d be waiting in line to use the internet and at the same time being crunched for time because my bus heading back home to my village would be leaving soon. I’d be exhausted from a very long day of seminars and language training. I would wait in line longing to hear back from my parents in the emails they would send me but at the same time I just wanted to go back to my village and chill out. Everyone around me would be speaking such a foreign language and there was no real way for me to communicate to them. With foreign pedestrians, crazy drivers, hot weather, and cows about, the madness ensuing out in the streets outside the building makes you afraid to even get back out there. There were some pretty stressful times here in this place of internet, however, that was over five months ago and here I am at this very same café. After living here for a bit I’m patiently standing in line waiting for my turn to use the internet. I’m not stressed out. Not one bit. In fact, I feel more relaxed then I’ve felt in a while. Not much of a language barrier anymore since my Kyrgyz has gotten much better since I was last here. I had a long ride in with some friends and now I’m ready to use the internet (haven’t used it in two months). Afterwards I’ll catch the 5:30 bus into my old training village and kick with the host fam. The streets of Kant are still pretty wild but it doesn’t bother me. In this moment I feel like this is now home for me. The chaos of living here is just part of everyday life and I’m starting to feel more and more accustomed to it. I’ll even catch myself sometimes. I’ll just going along with the chaos of things and accept that it’s just a part of everyday life here in Kyrgyzstan. The lack of privacy, how dirty I am and how much I smell, random children running into my classroom while I teach, or the wailing and crying of 1-year-old sister in the middle of the night. I’ll think to myself “man, I would not have been able to live like this nine months ago. I’ve really changed as a person.” I’m not saying that’s I’ve grown accustomed to all and am never stressed out about anymore. It still bugs me sometimes when kids approach and stare at me in the sports hall while I jump rope. There are plenty of things that I haven’t yet gotten used to. I see it like this. The more I learn and the more I grow accustomed to, the more I learn that there is more to learn and more to accustomed to. It’s like learning this Kyrgyz language. The more I learn how to speak it, the more I learn that I really don’t know a whole lot. Just when I think I have figured something out, I learn that I’ve been doing something wrong the whole time and I have to reevaluate my behavior or attitude. You definitely get put in your place quite a bit. I’m not saying that each time that I find I’m making a mistake I’m back to square one in figuring out how to live here. I am a bit closer, though, than I was before. That’s the challenge of living here and that is what seems to be making me come back for more every day.

Pictures:

Me and some fellow volunteer/buddies having a snowball fight at the stadium in Karakol.

Some local village boys getting water from the nearby well.

My host brother’s one-and-a-half year old smooching on our neighbor’s little daughter on New Years.

My host mom filling sheep lungs with milk to make “uhpkuh.” It pretty tasty, actually. Kind of like cheese…