Leaving Chuy

Salut, 

The last few weeks seem to blur. I feel halfway out the door, halfway still inside. We finished our practicum! Jacob and I taught the students the cupid shuffle and “We Will Rock You”. We split the students into four groups, with each pair of us teaching the groups different songs and dances. Valerie and Zachary taught their kids Old McDonald had a farm and a kids' song about bananas and apples. Santi and Michaela taught them the watermelon crawl (a line dance she mentioned to me) and a song by Bob Marley. Alex and Tess taught them the macarena and tried to teach them Baby Shark, but the students, finding it too childish, decided to do a TikTok mashup dance and taught it themselves the night before. We all sang “this land is your land” together. Honestly, I wanted to teach them Party in the USA but was reluctant to hear the other older teachers’ commentary. After the songs were over, all the kids ran around with their phones, wanting to snatch selfies and photos with all of us. The other teachers and staff had given us candy to give to the students too as a reward for good performance, so the kids were running around with candy wrappers too. 

We went to Burana Tower on Saturday. Last week, my family and I went to Gavaii, a resort close to the Kazakh border. It’s a popular stop, several other volunteers have gone. There is a restaurant, a large hotel, and a dancing area. For some reason, my family ate an early dinner and then told me to hop in the car because we were going to Gavaii. We got there, didn’t dance, and instead ate even more food. I wasn’t complaining, the food was good! Burana Tower is a UNESCO site. I’m super jealous, the other group in my village went to an archaeological dig site, ran into some Chinese archaeologists, and went digging at a world heritage site. Burana Tower is an old minaret dating a thousand years old from a large mosque along the Silk Road. In Bishkek, there’s a main road, I forget what it is called, but it is the Silk Road, the old historical pathway traders used to cross from Asia into Europe centuries ago. The last time I felt so much weight and history, I was in Rome. Back home, I only feel the weight of time in places like Gettysburg, but it’s here in Asia, where the world feels old. Burana was windy, which was a godsend, and we climbed atop small hills, overlooking the gorgeous view. 

In Bishkek, we returned to Dordoi, where I bought some cursive Cyrillic practice books, as I want to learn to write Kyrgyz cursive, as most people write in cursive here, and I feel it would be a useful skill to pick up while working as a teacher and lesson planning. When I went looking, Santi found some, and when I got there, the vendor said “balaby” as Santi explained to me he had asked the vendor for books for children. The vendor had asked me if I was the child in question. I got the books I wanted, a new blouse, and a new fan. The people I’ve seen here in Kyrgyzstan, which I’m not sure if this applies only to during summertime, wear few outfits, as in wear the same shirt every other day. I’ve seen responsible Rakhat wear the same black t-shirt maybe 50 times. We split off into groups, as going in small groups is ideal to avoid pickpockets and appearing as overly tourist. We have to constantly explain we are teachers and volunteers, not tourists, to avoid upcharging. The hack here is to never pay at the first bazaar stall, instead gauging prices as you go along and comparing with store prices too. It may seem that paying more to avoid awkward dialogues or to speed things up may seem ideal. For instance, when going to Burana, we got charged a lot of money by two different taxi drivers (getting to Burana from my village is long and hard without a taxi straight there), and to me, it wasn’t a ton of money comparatively. It seemed meaningless to argue or fret over 1-2$ difference in fares. But what is important is that we truly are living the same way people here do, as in avoiding scams. It’s impossible to be perceived as a local unless you’re Jacob who looks Kyrgyz, but the point is to not pay more, to instead wait and barter. 

This week, our last real week here in Chuy, felt nerve-wracking but it felt like getting windswept. School is about to start for my friends back home, and with lots of movement, I’ve gotten less time to Facetime or text people back home. 

I still am able to have funny stories, and I still love the sunset here, and it’s something I’m going to sorely miss. One day last week, I was sitting on the couch outside (which sits right underneath the living room window), mostly chilling. The house inside was mostly empty, the rest of my family except my host mom was somewhere else (I had no idea where). I went out to take some photos of the sunset, returned to the couch, and it grew dark. I was mostly reading on my phone/scrolling through Instagram, when I heard the front door click, meaning my host mom had locked it. I didn’t have my keys… 😣. I texted her, called her, and knocked loudly on the door. She was in her room, and I could hear the sounds of her Chinese serial drama she was watching in the background. She had left her phone in the living room, so as I stood on the couch, I could hear the phone ringing right through the window. It was 9 o’clock at night so yelling with loud dogs outside was not a good idea. Alas, I decided to walk around the house, where you have to go through a back gate to get to her bedroom window and loudly knock on it. I was no Romeo, but I got her attention. We had a nice laugh afterward about it, and she let me in.

This week held the most anxiety for everyone, I think, as we got our final permanent site announced! To review, Peace Corps holds Pre-Serving Training (PST) which I’ve been in for the last ten weeks before it sends its volunteers to villages across the country to serve for two years. The vast majority of volunteers are by themselves in a more remote/rural village or close to a city. The more volunteers in the country, the more likely for us to be in close proximity, and generally, here in Kyrgyzstan, I suspect because of our cohort being unusually young (the average age of PCVs is 28, and over 80% of our cohort is currently younger than that), they are clustering us closer together. The nature of Kyrgyzstan too plays a role; the country roads can only be accessible via taxis and marshrutkas, and the mountains make the trips long. There are some remote sites, for example, two volunteers from last year’s cohort (K-28) are in more remote sites. Anywhere can be remote, however, Talas has a reputation for being more remote, as the main road connecting it to the other oblasts sometimes gets closed down to snow during the winter. 

Peace Corps holds the permanent site announcement by giving you a piece of paper that includes all the information about your site (village name, host family members (names, jobs, ages), the school we’re going to work at, counterparts, and closest hospitals, major cities, and transportation options) with a large map of Kyrgyzstan on the floor. They gave us our info sealed and we all at once opened it, and then we walked to where we were placed, seeing who was near us. 

They placed a large number of people in Naryn, which surprised me. Only one in Chuy, which I felt relieved about personally. Chuy doesn’t need many volunteers due to its proximity to Bishkek and the number of tourists and other international workers/expats living in Bishkek (larger presence of English speakers and resources). In the bathroom, everyone I talked to was worried before the announcement that we would end up in Chuy.

I would like to preface that a permanent site announcement means nothing yet. It is a sheet of paper and provides some photos, but other than that, we still know nothing, because we haven’t visited any of the other oblasts. Having preferences is only based upon generalizations we’ve been told, and you don’t know what you would like or enjoy until you get there. I think that’s a comforting thought, and one I told myself the night before the placement. You can find joy anywhere, and while the perception of a place might make you believe something about the place, you can be happy and enjoy your service regardless. To be close to Chuy would be to see Bishkek in the winter, to have easy access to countless restaurants and a vibrant international community. 

Ryan, our DPT (Director of Program and Training) told us that during the site announcement, it was a good time to grieve the image or expectation we had about our future because it is undeniable that everyone has that. That can extend to most things, and grieving is a constant process of the ideas you build up in your head and reconciling what actually happens. He gave us an analogy using the idea of adopting a child. It is natural to grieve the image or expectation you have about a child and to instead find love and joy in the actual child you get, and it is a healthy coping mechanism, I think. 

I’m heading to Jalal Abad! To most people, this doesn’t mean anything, and to me, it doesn’t feel real or mean anything quite yet either, because as I said before, it’s just a dream, just an image. Five other volunteers will serve with me in Jalal Abad. The other volunteers in my current village are heading to Osh and Naryn, which makes me the only one from our group who will be in Jalal Abad. I think it will be okay because Osh and Jalal Abad are close, the capital cities only an hour or two away via car/marshrutka. My mom has driven longer routes, hell I’ve driven longer to get into Houston, as I used to live north of it. 

To my understanding, I will have one other volunteer in my village with me, as the village is large. It’s twice the size of my current one and a half an hour or so outside of Jalal Abad city. Based on Google Maps, it does look big indeed with some stores, a bazaar, a bank, etc. Having another volunteer with me in my village is a strange but also very comforting feeling, I think. I noticed that this year all of our cohort have been placed in different regions but most of us are very close to each other within our regions. The closest person to our village will be a ten-minute drive away. The next cluster over will be 3 people and only an hour away. Michaela and Tess are heading to a village in Osh oblast, and I think they’re also going to be in the same village. Jacob and Alex are heading to a super super remote area. We’d heard from another volunteer that two remote sites were going to be in Naryn, so the two are close to each other far in the mountains but far from everyone else. I could see the trepidation and enthusiasm when they learned that. We’ve been making Brokeback Mountain jokes ever since. 

Jalal Abad has a famous walnut forest, called Arslanbob, which I’m like over an hour away from. Jalal Abad is also famous for its fruits and vegetables, even in the winter, which you cannot find apparently elsewhere, so I am extremely excited about that. Ironically, I don’t like walnuts or dried fruit, which Jalal Abad is famous for, so I guess I will learn to like it. My regional manager, Almaz, told me that the Lagman there is amazing, so that makes me excited. I’m sad it doesn’t get very cold and it’s very hot in the summer, so I’m not looking forward to that. Jalal Abad is also known for its forests, gorges, food, and horseback riding. I really want to ride a horse! 

I’m already excited at the prospect of being in relatively close proximity to other volunteers. Of course, there are drawbacks and things I worry about, it’s natural. Jacob and Alex are going to be high up in the mountains and the views sound to die for; I’m going to be on low elevation. I don’t know yet the water, electricity, or internet situation. For the first three months, we can’t leave our oblast, but when fall ends, I want to go visit Osh, which is close (sounds like less than 2 hours), and visit my other friends. I’ll be very close to other volunteers and want to try to explore Jalal Abad with them. On the weekends, Peace Corps provides taxis to visit major cities for us to chill, recharge, buy school supplies, and generally go shopping. I await fall so much, I want to sit in parks and read. 

We got to speak to our regional managers, our first contact for info about our region, emergencies, natural disasters, etc. We have a “warden”, a PCV from our cohort who is the leader of the oblast and mostly just is the contact for disasters, security issues, and/if we need to leave the country or our villages. 

Our last weekend in Bishkek, we went after lunch on Saturday. We mostly went to pick up some last-minute items (some others got a SIM card). We also went to Masa, a sushi/pizza place. I’ve been told pizza/sushi restaurants are extremely common here, and I’ve seen so many of them. We also got my favorite, Kulikovskee (Kulikov), the ice cream franchise that I am SO GLAD has a franchise in Jalal Abad (some oblasts don’t have one, so I am glad I’m in Jalal Abad, as I would die if I didn’t have my Kulikov). It’s a purple cafe that sells, besides ice cream: coffee, cakes, tea, lemonade refreshers, macaroons, baked goods, yogurt, and even… ravioli? Shrug*. They have chocolate ice cream that comes in ready-made cones. 

My first experience with Kulikov was when we first went to Bishkek well over a month ago and stopped in a large mall to exchange USD for som in a mall. Rich Rakhat told me to go find Responsible Rakhat who had disappeared, and she told us Responsible Rakhat was in Kulikov. Jacob came with me, and we found Responsible Rakhat chilling with her ice cream by herself in a booth, and she convinced us to buy some. Ever since I’ve had a strong love affair with Kulikov (follow it on IG kulikov_kg) that makes me endlessly happy. Fortunately, you can also find Kulikov ice cream itself in other brands' grocery stores. We had significant trouble finding a marshrutka home, so we had to convince one not going to our village to make a stop there, and we got home very late at 9:30 PM. I feel semicomfortable walking late at night in the village, certainly not outside of it. The village ironically feels most alive at night, and I’ve seen countless kids I taught at the practicum greeting me and saying hi. The only drawback is random drunk people (we’ve only had one or two uncomfy encounters with them) by the school late at night. 

I also did decide I probably would self-study a little bit of Russian and then get actual tutoring later, as Jalal Abad, while it does have more “pure Kyrgyz”, the two schools we are working at in our village use both Kyrgyz and Russian. I had my final LPI exam this week, which is supposed to test your language fluency. The majority of our cohort is intermediate low and intermediate mid (with a few intermediate highs and one advanced low!). I'm currently sitting at a comfy intermediate medium, but to be honest, I don't always feel that way. The goal is not proficiency but the goal is conversational for emergencies, knowing swear words, and generally feeling comfortable, but I think I will opt to further my fluency in Kyrgyz over Russian. In the city, I have felt a real crutch not knowing Russian. Jalal Abad also has a large Uzbek minority (the South in general does), so I’ll probably get to know some Uzbek, too. The South also has a dialect and accent I get to learn. The day we learned our site, we also got together to discuss dialect and different words, which I’ll admit was hard. I think I’ve grasped a language and then been told I have to learn entirely different words because I’ve been taught how northerners speak this whole time. I am intrigued by the idea of all of us learning slightly different varieties/dialects of Kyrgyz and knowing different slang. 

I am happy in more ways than one, but this is also the end of several chapters. The next time I’ll write I’ll be off in Jalal Abad (we actually have to fly, because the car ride to Jalal Abad or Osh is upwards of 10 hours long). I’m celebrating the first endings, the last lessons, the last meals with my host family and others, and the last time I’ll see some of my friends for months. It’s not quite the Goodbye Tour I had back in Austin (which you can read about in my earlier blog post!), but it is its own sort of ending. PST has been long, and I’ve felt privileged and coddled in some ways. Taking private taxis and private marshrutkas and being constantly around my friends who speak English. Being able to go to the capital every week and eat bougie pizza and buy whatever my heart desired. In other ways, I’m afraid and apprehensive, and I do find relief in knowing I’ll be so close to other volunteers, and I’m immensely excited to be around them, get to know them better, and see Jalal Abad with them. I mourn the images I had here (I’ve been raving about wanting to go to Issyk Kyl), and it’s a constant process. I think about the life I had here, the life I thought I might have, the expectations I had before I left, and the ones I had while in Ashu. That time feels far away. 

I gave my identity presentation, where you basically talk about yourself for five minutes to the whole cohort, usually the best place to talk about your family, friends, hobbies, dreams, and travels. I was the last one, because I wanted to be and wanted the last word, and I also wanted to ruminate, to be the last one to give questions for us to consider, things for us to ponder as we leave our site. Besides that, it was a time I felt okay to be open about myself, my life, my identity, and what I care about. I was glad several told me afterward they enjoyed it a lot (Rich Rakhat said she cried). In the end, as I said in the presentation, my hope for us is to find a home here in Kyrgyzstan, and to be constantly thoughtful about ourselves and our place in the world. I hope for all of us that we can find joy in the challenges we face, we can find beauty and excitement in new and difficult things. I think we become different people in Kyrgyzstan, not entirely, but maybe we discover or find different parts of ourselves and our identity highlighted. I find my youth and my nationality often the most apparent and most scrutinized. For others, it is different. Resentment is like taking poison and expecting it to kill someone else, as the saying goes. So I grieve one part of the life I thought I might have, which even then was ambiguous, to begin with, and a dream, and am enthusiastic about the life I’m going to actually have, because I know it will be rich with exciting things, that even if it’s hard, I’ll try my best to find joy in my work, in my service, and in the culture and community I’ve chosen to call home. 

à bientôt,
​Grace

More Music!

• Tom Walker- Better Half of Me
• Tom Walker- the Best is Yet to Come
• Halsey- Castle
• By the End of the Night- Ellie Goulding
• Love Me Like You Do- Ellie Goulding
• Turn the Tide- 2WEI, Edda Hayes
• By the Ocean- Besomorph and Riell