On Top of the World

Salut, 

I turned 21! The last week was mostly not notable, but I was excited to celebrate my birthday. Here, it means nothing to turn 21, which is unfortunate. My family had been cleaning all week for the toi, a large party/celebration. The masters as they’re called- or delivery/construction workers, were working constantly at night in the kitchen. Now it looks very modern, with a new sink, stovetop, cabinets, all of it. We got a new table, and a new fold-out couch and Eliza’s room got remodeled with a new bed, dresser, and wardrobe, but of course, my baike, Eldiyar, and his wife, Dinka (Dinara), took it over, so now she sleeps in the dining/guest room or on the couch or in our apa’s room until I leave. 

The weekend was the most chaotic. I woke up on my birthday early to floods of people in the house. My aunts and uncles were there and borsok (fried dough, like puff puffs) and candy and tea were all over the table. My jenge жеңе (sister-in-law) had arrived. As per tradition, her hair was covered with a shawl/scarf and she was serving guests tea. I had to leave for class  mid-eating. After class, we and Rich Rakhat went to Bishkek. Before leaving, we all went to Rich Rakhat’s house to drop our stuff off and everyone went to use the bathroom. Everyone kept going, and I eventually relented and used her outhouse, frustrated everyone was taking so long. Rich Rakhat even told me to use the kitchen sink to wash my hands to save time while Valeria went. After, we took our usual route and ended up on a very slow marshrutka, meaning we got into Bishkek at 2. Unfortunately, the second we got off the marshrutka, Tess slipped on a pothole and twisted/fractured her ankle. 

We ate at Vinoteka, an Italian restaurant, where I had an Aperol spritz, and afterward, she got picked up by a PC medical officer. The lunch was great, and all my friends were super sweet and made me a card. I quickly learned the whole bathroom debacle had been their means of distraction to each sign the card, everyone “using the bathroom” and even Rich Rakhat had been in on it. We had meant to go to Bishkek so Alex and some of us could shop and go rock climbing. Unfortunately, due to time, we ended up doing some shopping, going to Ala-Too Square again so Michaela could see it, and Rich Rakhat bought us all ice cream. There’s a franchised place called куликовский which sells more expensive ice cream but is extremely good and a nice comfort. 

When I got home, I could hear the music first before I went in. Loud music, lots of dancing, and my host sister seemed absolutely exhausted. She had been running around all day. I immediately got offered a shot of vodka, and a group of attendees sang happy birthday to me in English. I drank it, but then rebuffed any attempts for more. I did some dancing and apparently arrived just in time for dinner, which was besh barmak. Afterward, I played Uno with two of my host cousins, who are both 14 and really funny even if I don’t always remember their names. Some random friends/relatives came by, and this one Turkish dude who spoke to me in very aggressive Russian played with us. 

On Sunday, we went on a very LONG hike. So I had been told it was a 45 min short hike, and then we would swim in the hot springs in Issyk Ata. What was supposed to be a 45 min hike to a pretty waterfall turned into a 10-mile and possibly 4-hour hike with numerous stops. My health app says I walked 19 km that day, but other volunteers dispute my numbers. 

It was during the hike, though strenuous and long, that I saw Kyrgyzstan in all its beauty, at least some small part of it. Part of me misses and wishes I had gone hiking more in Europe and the US, where the national parks are beautiful and worth hiking through. I think being here and with other volunteers who hike inspires me to want to hike more. We hiked around and then climbed up parts of the mountain, and the weather was lovely once you went up higher. The breeze up there was chilling but so so welcome. Being actually cold was weird. The feeling though up there is like no other feeling in the world. Looking down into the ravine is scary and insane, too. I have an irrational fear of climbing or walking downhill, afraid I’ll trip and break something. 

My feet were very sore afterward, but being in nature and hiking is something entirely new. And Issyk Ata, the area we were in, is in Chuy, which, supposedly, is nowhere near the best mountains. 

We recently had our interview about where we wanted to be placed. In two weeks, they will announce our permanent sites. I’ll leave all my friends and host family here and community and depart somewhere else. Where, I have no idea. It will just be me in a community by myself. The thought becomes less terrifying every day. Our desires and interests matter only partially, the primary concerns are community needs and gender (some schools want a male or female volunteer for a variety of reasons, and the same applies to host families). Being hours away from other volunteers can be scary. Some volunteers, a few, I’m not sure how many, will be placed in smaller, more remote places. There’s so much to take into consideration, and some people care about other things. And there are also stereotypes about oblasts, which we are told to not take too heavily into consideration. 

Chuy is hot and where we are now, so I don’t want to stay in the same oblast. Issyk Kul is popular and pretty, by the lake it’s named after (so it’s a more touristy area), Naryn is exceptionally beautiful, very cold, but dusty. Osh is in the south and also very pretty, but very hot and requires a plane ride or a long 12+ car ride. Jalal Abad is full of trees, more “pure” Kyrgyz, and has lots of fruits and vegetables, but only close to Osh and sort of out of the way. Talas is the most remote and mountainous, and more isolated from the other oblasts. These are all things I’ve merely been told. My heart has sights on Issyk Kyl, but I think getting too attached is a bad idea. Besides oblasts, which are way too general, thinking about other things. A good relationship with a counterpart? (Counterpart is the co-teacher you have when you teach English). Constant access to running water, electricity, and internet? Weather? Family size? Village size? Proximity to other volunteers? 

I told Sultanat eje, a regional manager and the person who interviewed me, that I, of absolutely anything, wanted an active and sociable family who like to do lots of things. I think I can ignore water loss, banyas, cold, and anything if I have a family who goes guesting often, travels, and likes to have a good time. I’m primarily an extrovert, but sometimes I think other introverts make me introverted. I also think being in a foreign place sometimes makes me seek out places and people that remind me of home as grounding, and later that will be volunteers and people back home, who are on my phone. There are three Peace Corps regional managers, who each manage different oblasts and the volunteers in them. 

I am happy to see the transition and changes occurring in my current host family, and I know I’ll miss them very much when I leave. For the most part, it seems most others in my village have had some changes (I think one of Tess’ relatives gave birth), but for me, my brother and his wife (my sister-in-law) moved back home, prompting so much partying and guesting. The replaced kitchen and redesigned room. My host mom now goes sometimes in the morning to school to prepare for the school year coming up. My cousins come by and visit more frequently. Twice in a row, we’ve gone out eating at other family members’ houses. 

I feel varying degrees of comfort with Kyrgyz. Sometimes it’s great, sometimes my brain hurts and I remember nothing. I finally finished the book about Rabies. I don’t practice as much as I should, and I’m focusing more on speaking and listening than reading or writing (which is mostly practical as most literature and media here are in Russian). Depending on my permanent site, I might make a decision later to learn Russian perhaps six months to a year in, which might be easier. Russian is a much harder language than Kyrgyz, but the ample resources, both language materials, apps, and aforementioned media, for Russian make it probably equally difficult. Russian unfortunately also has greater practical usefulness for post-PC service. 

I’ve gotten the chance to meet more and more PC volunteers currently in Kyrgyzstan. K-28 varies a lot in age and background. Some have amazing Kyrgyz while others are at my level right now or worse. Their perspectives have been so useful in understanding life here, even if their perspectives do boil down to being their own. 

I’ve been playing lots of Uno with my cousins and sister, which helps me remember colors, which I often forget. I tried teaching one Speed but failed because I didn’t have a good vocabulary, so she just read the rules online in Russian. One of my cousins primarily speaks Russian because her mom is a Russian language teacher, so she understands my Kyrgyz but usually responds in Russian. My host sister also tried to teach me Durak. Unfortunately for me, I’m a very hands-on learner and found it hard to read directions online, so I slowly am picking it up, but it’s hard. 

Practicum otherwise has been fine. Teaching students with limited resources is the hardest challenge and requires lots of creativity. It’s not as simple as printing handouts with a printer. The students all vary across their language ability, and we don’t have unlimited printing either. The lack of pencils and books can be a challenge, as some have them and others don’t. Doing group work has been the best solution. I did some lessons on continents and used country flags I brought and an inflatable globe Tess brought. In addition, we’ve been doing lessons on places around the village (store, street, mosque, train station), food (pizza, lagmaan, plov), and colors, amongst other things. We observe each other and provide feedback, and we’ve gotten the chance to work with our counterparts in the village and local English teachers here. 

Rakhat and Rakhat are among the best English teachers in the country, and among the best English speakers, as well (except some students at the American Central Asia University). What I mean to say by this is that the vast majority of not college students here who speak English here don’t speak it very well. Some English teachers here are conversational but not very fluent. When we gave feedback on the lesson, Baarkul eje (our techical teacher) had to translate to the other English teacher what we were saying. None of this is entirely unexpected, and it demonstrates what our purpose here is. 

I’m constantly inspired by the young people here who want to learn. The vast majority speak both Russian and Kyrgyz. My host sister’s English is good enough to survive in the USA (maybe not accent-heavy places though). English is the lingua franca in the world, regardless of that being positive or not, so learning English is key if they ever want to leave the Russian sphere. I am constantly reminded of how privileged I am to be able to go to any country and there is a very high likelihood the airport signage will be in English, that I can walk into any major city in the world and someone can converse with me (even lingua francas like Russian, Arabic, Chinese, and Spanish that can be very hard in other regions). Kyrgyz, Uzbek, Kazakh, and even Turkish have some linguistic similarities, meaning if my Kyrgyz is good, I’ll be able, to varying degrees, to understand speakers of those languages. I’m aware of the imbalance; I’m choosing to learn a new language I at home never have to learn and can choose as a hobby. As opposed to the millions and billions of people who learn English or a second language out of necessity for work and job opportunities. 

I’m humbled by it, and I hope that I learn Kyrgyz well enough so this time next year, I can come back, and ask my host family the questions that boggle around in my head. I could ask Eliza to translate, but I want to be able to ask myself. I want to know their hopes and dreams and if I’m genuinely bothering them. Why they wanted a PC volunteer, besides so Eliza could practice English? I want to ask about thorny things like religion and politics, their views on LGBT issues and abortion, and I want to know if my host brother wants a different sort of job, if he wants to be rich, and if he were, what he would do with all the money. I want to know his view on Russian politics, if he has any, and I want to wade into controversial topics about Russia, even though I’m not allowed to. I want to know what occupies their thoughts, why they like their best friends, and if they dislike people in the village. I want to know, besides comments on my hygiene and eating habits, if I seem like an interesting person, and I endlessly want to tell them about all the things that interest me and all the things I wish I could learn from them. I can always ask simple things, like favorites, occupations, and likes or dislikes. With collectivist culture and being a guest and foreigner, asking and prying to know genuinely their thoughts is even harder to attain. As I look upon two weeks left in PST, I wish I could express my gratitude and I wish I could express my frustrations. I can say almost everything else. I wish I could tell them jokes, and I wish I would understand what they find funny and how their minds work. I want to know what is important in life to them, and I want to know if my host sister and host sister-in-law are happy. 

Today, I went to Bishkek with Jack and Jacob. I’ve gone to Bishkek with varying groups of people, usually Jacob or Alex, and I feel like I’ve seen so much of it. I have nightmares about being placed in Chuy, and I think I most certainly would die if I did, not that I don’t like Chuy, I do, it’s rather, I want to venture out, see more, feel like I’m seeing all of Kyrgyzstan. I’m adaptable and flexible to tons of things, but absolute adaptation and flexibility can be done with misery. 

We went to дордой базар, a famous bazaar I’ve heard from others is immensely unsafe to go to without a local or by yourself. We ran into Ainura eje, another LCF from another village, who was taking two other volunteers to дордой, and we asked to tag along. Дордой (Door-Doy) is like thirty minutes outside of Bishkek and like a huge city of a bazaar, it’s massive. Once we got there, Ainura eje dropped us off and told us to meet again in two hours… And honestly, it was such a vibe. We went around, chatting with locals, introducing ourselves, practicing our Kyrgyz (and occasionally speaking English with some kids or sellers who spoke it). Sometimes it sweetened the deal and we got cheaper prices, especially once we told them we were English teachers and volunteers ( and not tourists). I bought a traditional Kyrgyz hat for women, uno cards for myself (I’ve been using Eliza’s this whole time), and a Rubik's cube. We stopped by a Coffee Planet shop and had some amazing lemonade drinks. 

We met two other current volunteers in Kyrgyzstan, John, and Stephanie, who are currently serving in Naryn and Issyk Kyl respectively, who were hanging out in Bishkek. We met them and ate lunch at Torro Grill, a burger place, where everyone had a burger but me. Insanely good, and then we went to our favorite spots, Gum and Tsum again (Gum and Tsum/Sum are two malls opposite each other that are city centers in Bishkek, very bougie. Tsum is the bougiest, it is a vertical mall with 5 floors, TVs, musical instruments, LOTS of phones and electronics, and Gum is where you get your fancy clothing and your food). I can never go to Gum without getting my bougie ice cream which comes in a cute cone and everything, so we got that. I bought an outfit (linen pants and a summer/spring blouse) and then we dipped. 

Leaving in two weeks puts into perspective my time here. I am leaving but the circumstance of everyone else here hasn’t changed that much and probably won’t. I’ve seen it transition, and I know I’ve yet to see how it is during other seasons or meet the entire extended family. That’s always how it is with a host family, but I think that no matter how much we integrate, we are foreigners. I visibly am, and everyone always asks me where I’m from. You say America, and to me, they scrutinize further, asking if I’m from Japan or Cambodia. 

Getting to sneak a peek into someone else’s world can be a blessing even knowing you’re a small part of it and one you can only observe. Seeing people as they are is always the best part. It’s hard, and there are always things you don’t know, things you can’t explain or expect to understand. I still sat during the toi not knowing what most of the time people were saying. I’ve met the vast majority of the current cohort (Amrita and Jenny are the only two I haven’t), and each has such interesting stories. I countdown the days until I know my permanent site, as I wait anxiously until I can buy school supplies finally, buy school clothes finally (I’m reluctant to buy real work clothing until I know where I’m going- women’s clothing is very fickle across Kyrgyzstan with varying levels of acceptability of pants and skirts, luckily for the men, a professional shirt and pants is universal :/). I can’t say I’m not afraid of being upset or being disappointed. I have my dreams, and I have the things I want out of life and out of my time here. I know I won’t get it all, and I also know that even in challenging circumstances, finding the bright side and good things can be hard. Particularly when you’re alone. Here, in the dusty sand of my village, I find comfort in my friends and the good food and my friends back home. I can reflect on my time here now, and I can scarcely think back to being at the guesthouse back in June I was at during orientation. We were close to Issyk Kyl far off in a valley where my troubles seemed small and I felt like time seemed to slink away from me. With one week left of teaching and approaching my permanent site and the end of PST, that time feels like such a long time ago, and though that me doesn’t feel very distant, the things I knew about this place and the expectations I had do indeed. I feel as if I’m in my own little world, my own little inside knowledge of Kyrgyzstan, and my own bubble. I told my mom that maybe this is what being an adult really is like, and I would know, I just turned 21!

À Bientôt,

Grace 

Music

• The Best is Yet To Come- Tom Walker
• Play With Fire- Sam Tinnesz
• Oh My God- Adele
• See You Again- The Chainsmokers
• Better Half of Me- Tom Walker
• Casablanca- Besomorph