Lying Under the Stars

Salut,

I feel like I am retreading when I say that it is the beginning where you notice things you didn’t the first time.

I have become a homebody, which is not an entirely bad thing to be. I have a large enough house that being a homebody is okay- with 13+ people currently in my company.

Three guests left last week, so instead of 17, there are 14. It makes eating hard. 14 people all use one shower and one bathroom (there is an outhouse which is nice for toilet emergencies), and despite having in effect two bathrooms, I still find myself needing to wait a lot to use the bathroom.

I said before that it can be grating and wearing to constantly be speaking Kyrgyz all the time. It has diluted due to my work, and I’ve found lots of time to be by myself and read, watch YouTube videos, etc. Being able to see other volunteers is nice too, so it’s never too lonely and it’s even harder to feel lonely in a house as busy and alive as mine. 

This first blog post will be the beginning, but not the end, of my observations about the school. Kyrgyz schools are all different, and my school is not the only one in my village. Getting used to the Kygryz school system is already a hurdle, as it is so different from the American one. 

I try to take a lot of it in stride despite my pent-up frustrations about things I can’t control. I’ve been reminded constantly about the “locuses of control”, being aware of your external and internal factors, the things you can and not control in your life. I couldn’t control that the zavuch (vice principals) and school director of my school changed the school schedule every day for two weeks, so I never knew what class we were teaching, when, or where. An early frustration of mine that has simmered was that during my first week, every single lesson was in a different classroom. My counterpart, Baku eje, and I constantly kept moving between classrooms, carrying our books with us. The first week or so, I was mostly just observing her teach. On the first day of school, she taught 8 consecutive lessons, with 2 brief breaks. I already find her to be one of the most interesting and resilient people I’ve ever met. 

I think one of the most interesting things I also observe is that the way I approach and assume people think about my actions is so different here culturally. For example, when I attempt to help my jenge and the other female guests here clean up, they tell me to go rest and don’t let me help. I often wonder about being perceived as “not carrying my weight” or “not doing my part” whereas, for them, it’s about hospitality and age. Similar for eating. Whenever we eat out, I want to pay my own bill, as I would with my friends, despite them not letting me. I remember watching several of the adults argue over who pays the check. This is not isolated to Kyrgyz culture either. 

People here are late all the time, but I’ve grown used to that, even the part of me that screams that I need to be on time. My counterpart has never been on time when we agreed to meet up before our lessons start. Once the family members who live here go back to Russia, I’ll have more room to do more chores.

Which brings me to a grand epiphany I had. Some of the misunderstandings I chalk up to me not listening enough and focusing too much on bits of information instead of the whole picture. So I had been convinced for nearly three weeks that half the people at my house were guests, family friends of sorts but not related to my host parents. Last week, Elmira eje and two children- who I assumed were hers, left the house to go to Moscow. So we went from 17 to 14. The remaining people, Dinara eje, her husband, and Alinur, her young son, were also going to leave soon once the house they are building in Jalal Abad city is finished. Plus there was Aidana, a young 19-year-old, who I was never sure of her familial relation. Dinara had told me she and Elmira are neighbors in Moscow, so I assumed they had been family friends of my host parents for many years and came to visit for the summer.

This understanding of half-truths and half-assumptions was based on two things. First, the very first day I arrived at my host family, Dinara, and Elmira both told me they were guests in the house and would soon be leaving. Second, my host parents told me they had only two sons- the first who was temporarily here visiting his young children (Alihan, Adelia, Emir, and the new baby Kuz Sykal), and the second who was still in Moscow. After a random conversation with Dinara when I tried to figure out how long she had known my host parents, she looked very confused and told me 40 years. She’s 40 years old. Then, I being frustrated whipped out a piece of paper to draw a family tree, and she sprung it on me. Both she and Elmira- who was way already in Moscow by now, are in fact my host mother’s two eldest daughters- my host sisters, and Dinara is the mother of the teenage Aidana. Learning you have way more family members right before dinner amused her greatly. A shift in my head occurred where I realized I was no longer sitting at the dinner table with my host parents and their family friends/guests but was sitting at the table with almost the entire extended family. 

I suppose this is all my fault, and it took me a few days to process that I had new host sisters I’d never known about who were right in front of me the whole time. Second, I think the main thing I learned is to keep listening as had I not zeroed in on specific bits of information, I would have been able to learn that much faster. Baku eje told me later that married women, when they return home to their families, often say they are “guests”, as they don’t, in fact, live there anymore, they take up residence with their husband’s families. Also, my little host sister Adelia, who just turned 5!, shows me pictures of her family all the time, describing who everyone is, so had I listened to her more, I could have figured it out. I told my host parents about the whole debacle and they laughed. 

The weather out here has been much nicer. It grows cold in the morning, maxes heat around the late morning and early afternoon, and then cools by early evening. My house is an open courtyard so it is the perfect place to look at the stars. In Chuy, I often would walk outside my house and try to look out the windows. Here, my host father sleeps under the stars. 

The stars out here are enchanting, and there’s a stone house foundation abandoned right by my house. I lay out there sometimes, gazing at the twinkling stars as they flicker back at me. 

My family goes to Jalal Abad city constantly, usually 3-4 times a week. We go to bazaars, we go to eat. I went with my counterpart to Jalal Abad city to buy school supplies and we ate lagman. My family never eats Lagman.

I compare and think about my host family back in Chuy. My host family here is large and that has its own drawbacks, see my earlier comment about the bathroom situation. It makes it difficult to go anywhere, as it takes everyone forever to get ready and we all never leave together. The house has never been empty the entire time I’ve been here, someone is always here, and I’ve never been out with everyone. My host parents ironically don’t always come with us on our outings. We went to Jalal Abad city on Monday the 11th to celebrate my host sister’s birthday. We went to the Jalal Abad amusement park and we rode the Ferris wheel at night, which is already one of my favorite memories. We ate a ton of pizza. Unfortunately for me, my host family really likes Pepsi and cake, neither of which I like. 

I’ve also grown a taste for watermelon, which my family and friends back home know I’ve always disliked. I’ve been watching movies and reading books. At this point in time, not a lot has been happening, which I know is the opposite for lots of other volunteers. Other volunteers right now are attending weddings and tois, going guesting constantly, and visiting other volunteers. It doesn’t bother me that much, 2 years is a long time. I think I’ve been to Jalal Abad city already more than any other volunteer here has been (I’ve gone 7 times I think), which is mostly due to my host family’s frequent travel, work, and interest being there. We returned to the amusement park for Alihan’s birthday, he turned 4 and ate at the same place. The kids all ride the littlest rides, the ones that never move much or aren’t very scary. So I convinced my Jenge, Aidana (there are two Aidanas in my family) to come and ride one with me. We rode those swing ones on a raised platform where you swing in a circle high above the ground. At the amusement park, just like small stores and even the bazaar, you can spot a child manning the ride or collecting money. Aidana told me that they are helping their parents but she means they are doing shifts for their parents not supplementing. 

I want to return to my comments about school because understanding the school system is fundamental to understanding why Peace Corps volunteers even are stationed somewhere. It’s not as simple as a lack of resources, because lots of PC countries have limited resources: no textbooks, no notebooks, no pens or pencils, etc. Students don’t bring materials to class, they don’t do their homework, and they miss class for a variety of reasons (lack of motivation or family commitments to work). Baku even says older grades have it harder where labor becomes a pressing issue or they semi-drop out of school. Not having a textbook for a class can be insubstantial as a problem alone, of course, you can simply buy a new one or share it with other students. Money of course is limiting, and the textbooks are not cheap, nor does the school provide one for every student. I imagine the variety of textbooks they need, besides just the English ones, is high and in addition to school uniforms, money for food, backpacks, etc., is a lot. Not having a solid, consistent classroom, alone can be a huge problem. It means moving resources and losing time, constant coordination, and lost time when students hang around. A nonautomatic bell means someone manually has to ring it, leading to inconsistencies, and confusion in the schedule. A relative lack of coordination in absences means my counterpart sometimes has to fill in classes last minute. I observed a class where the students last minute were told they had an English class but didn’t bring their textbooks, so my counterpart defaulted to playing a game with them, as she had never taught them before and didn’t know their English level. 

One of the 7th-grade classes has an old textbook, and Baku and I have told them to buy the new one so we can teach them. None of the students have and we don’t have copies of the old textbook, and I haven’t been able to find myself a copy of the old one, so before every class of theirs, I have to grab one of the student’s books and check the curriculum inside and make up the lesson on the spot. 

There are solutions to many of these problems. I suggested buying whiteboards for our class so we could play team games, and Baku said we don’t have a budget for it. Part of me wants to just buy them myself, each is only 2ish$ and we only need a handful for team games, but another part of me doesn’t want to become a default bank. 

I’ve also started buying toys for the children. I try to buy them something every time I go to Jalal Abad without them or to go see my friends. It also staves off my obsession with shopping and spending money. The hard part is that if you buy the kids toys, you have to buy them ALL toys, and there used to be 7 kids. Now there are only 5 and soon there will be 4 (technically 3 because the baby never counts in my mind can’t buy her anything). Some gifts are more hits than others- I bought Adelia stickers which she pasted all over her bed, and ponytails she wears as bracelets. I think puzzles were too advanced for some of them, but water guns were a good idea. 

Another striking difference I’ve noticed between my last host family and my new one is the degree to which we eat. We eat a LOT, as many as six times a day if I’m at home all day. Morning breakfast, a small snack around 10/11, lunch around 1, usually more food at 4, dinner at 6, and then a second dinner at 8. This is not every day but it’s frequent enough. I noticed that they feed me dinner at 6 with some of the other women also eating, and then the men come back from work and then we all eat an official family dinner at around 8. I play with the kids until 10 or so, and then spend the last two hours talking to family and friends back home or spend it by myself watching movies or reading. Back in Chuy, we did always eat a fair amount but snacks between meals were more infrequent and shorter. Because of the large family here chai eeching (which just means eating period) takes longer and requires more set up, more food, more time eating, and more time cleaning. The outside raised platform (called a tapan) is where everything happens. We eat there, we watch TV there, I take naps there, my host mom sews there, my host dad sleeps there, the kids play there, etc. 

The visits to Jalal Abad city on the weekends probably don’t mean the same thing to me as some of the other volunteers, some live much farther away (I used to be 1.5 hours from Bishkek, and now I’m 30 min from Jalal Abad city, and the others live 1.5ish hours away- which means you don’t go every day). I use the opportunity to meet and see other volunteers, buy small things, and eat and try new food in the area, and overall vibe. I don’t feel a level of remoteness that maybe some others do, as my village is large enough that it’s a short drive or walk away to get basically anything we need immediately. The city is close enough to buy anything I might want and to go out. Our village also has a bank and cafes which I soon want to go to much more frequently. Frank, the other volunteer, came guesting to my house, so I feel grounded in knowing there’s another person near me, even if our lives already feel different (my host parents and his are friends). 

I feel undaunted by a lot of things. I don’t mind the free time, hell I’m engrossed in books way too much for that, and I know and cherish the small things. I cherish bazaar trips because I love buying things, I relish the amusement park rides and eating pizza for birthdays. I drink compot in class and bring my counterpart some during very long days. There’s still always so much more to do: going to a wedding, riding a horse, seeing a kok boru game, so much to do and still so much time to do it. Sometimes I feel like the world slows and others I feel it moving fast, and definitely on the road to Jalal Abad where drivers wait for no one. I look back and have loved my time in Bishkek, it already feels like a distant memory in my mind. Soon enough, the gates to Osh will open wide up and I’ll get to see even more of my friends. 

For now, I continue to relish the small things, like eating Lagman, like when Adelia sits in my lap and loves the gifts I buy her, like students enjoying lessons and greeting me in the hallways, or even when the skies are clear at night and I can look at the stars. 

À Bientôt,

Grace

PS. Okay, so I actually don't listen to a lot of music at my new site. BUT, new music

1. Pompeii- Bastille

2. You're so You- Lloysio

3. Another Place- Bastille and Alessia Cara

4. Vampire- Olivia Rodrigo

5. Aiga qarap- Sadraddin (Kazakh song)