Salut,
The school year has finished. It’s difficult to think about that, and I’ve been in Kyrgyzstan for 11 months, and by my next blog post, a year. It was this time last year that I had graduated; I’d been moving out, and I’d been doing everything to prepare to leave. I learned I was going to come to Kyrgyzstan late, at the end of April/early May, so it all happened quickly.
The finish line between the Manas competition and the last day of school was three weeks of meandering. The mood was sour and morose. I can’t always figure out if it’s just because school is ending and everyone has senioritis, or because of the accident. Baktygul kept remarking to me that the students were in bad moods. What’s interesting to me is the language people use; as a result of language barriers, people always ask me “Were you scared/afraid?” I don’t have the language to describe terror, or trauma, or even how to talk about panic and anxiety. So, we just say “scared” or “afraid”. My 5th graders still wear their blue kamzurs (sleeveless vests) to school, the ones they wore at the competition. It’s a constant reminder.
Ustalar (construction workers) remain at our house. I’ve been taking photos every few days of their progress, which has been quite fast, with only five of them bricklaying in the long hours every day. They’ve finished the first level of the house and will go do other projects, then they will return to finish the second level in a month. I’m glad about it because I despise how much we have been eating the same food daily. The first week of May is a series of several holidays (May 1 is Labor Day, May 3? Is Constitution Day, and May 8 is Victory Day). The Manas competition overshadowed any and all of it. Kyrgyzstan by and large at the federal level has prohibited large public gatherings and events for children for the foreseeable future due to the accident. As I said before, Chuy and Naryn oblasts canceled their own, and the future of Manas competitions, in general, is uncertain.
At our school, the mood has been different. The students and teachers, my counterpart, had initially made me think our students’ injuries were more minor than they turned out to be. One 9th-grade girl came home and has been fine ever since. One eighth-grade boy, though. One of my 8th-grade girls came to me at the beginning of class, showing me a video I had seen before but not looked closely at; in it, she pointed to the boy in question, in the background, with blood covering the entirety of his jaw and mouth (and even parts of his neck), as he lay on the ground, adults hovering around him, his body in shock and unmoving. Our student had in fact been flown to Bishkek for surgery. One of my students said he’s come back and is okay, while Baktygul says he hasn’t returned yet; he certainly hasn’t returned to school. Due to this, my director has been waffling on holding any major school events, parties, or meetings. I finally asked the 8th-grade boy’s headteacher; she said he’s still in Bishkek as I write, recovering but initially unable to speak due to a smashed jaw. I didn’t know him very well, and with enough time, it feels like a distant memory. Though I wish he was here with us during the end-of-the-year celebrations.
On Victory Day, Tahmin invited me and other volunteers to go on a picnic with his family. I initially had plans to spend time with Baktygul, but her son fell ill (on his birthday, no less), so I went to Tahmin’s village. His family is great; they speak perfect English (they have studied in the US and have had several volunteers live with them), and we went to a large field of poppies, next to a lake, with a gorgeous view of the mountains. When we got there, by our luck, some men had recently finished building a shaded and raised platform we could eat on. We played chess, ate manty and salad, and took pictures in the field of poppies. Afterward, on the way back, we ran into strawberry farmers who were picking and prepping them, and Tahmin’s host father bought a fresh kg from them.
A week before school ended, my school also had graduation for the youngest students. On that day, Dr. Marat, the Peace Corps doctor came to visit my house for a routine check up. He rebuffed my host family's attempts to offer food. He brought his own scale with him, literally checking it maybe (because I know he came by plane, so I guess he checked it into the airport or stuffed it into his suitcase). Less eventful than other Peace Corps staff visits. The neighbors, who I mentioned last post as being some of my students, left to Moscow early, leaving before graduation. A few months ago, in a different blogpost, I mentioned how my host brother/cousin slaughtered a chicken and stuffed it into his suitcase. Well, my neighbor Maryam said she was going to do the same (she's like 13), so it is indeed a Kyrgyz custom.
The last day of school was good. The last few weeks I held my regular English clubs, and on the last day, students continued their cybotnek (spring cleaning). It continues to rain on and off though. Students also cleaned the school, wiping down blackboards, sweeping, and mopping the floor. They were all astounded when I told them that in America, a janitor does it, not students. I told the teachers that in America teachers clean their classrooms, to which Nurlan, the PE teacher, was dismissive of, saying students in America are lazy. I walked into my 7-B students dancing to various TikTok songs. The amount of American and Western pop culture references, music, and film, my students understand varies wildly. They know Uptown Funk, Old Town Road, Dance Monkey, No Lie, Rasputin, Gasolina, and Waka Waka, among others, but mostly because those are dance songs. At school, I conducted an exam to see if there were any improvements in English language levels for all my students; we conducted it first in September. The majority of students improved, while some worsened, and a large chunk of students were absent for the first or second attempt, so I couldn’t measure a change. Most of my students did much better on the speaking and writing sections of the exam than in September.
I was sifting through a mountain of exam papers and copybooks and entering data that Peace Corps requested when a bunch of students came in for my English club. One girl wanted to know if I had any movies. I showed her various Disney movies, many of which she’d seen. When I come back from vacation, I’m going to conduct an English camp/club for my students, and one of those days, I’m going to screen an English movie (with Russian subtitles).
September, many blogpost entries ago, I discussed the “First Bell”. The first bell is September 1, which is supposed to represent the start of school, and for 1st graders, the beginning of their education. At my school, for the first bell ceremony, one 1st-grade boy and girl, along with one 9th-grade boy and girl, and one 11th-grade boy and girl, cross the courtyard, ringing the bell hand in hand. After, students go to their first lesson of the year. The last bell ceremony reflects that, it’s the 11th graders ringing in the last day and end of their education. It’s not quite the same as back home, no cap and gowns, instead bright green sashes. Something worth mentioning is that 9th graders also graduate at my school (and others too), and there’s a reason for this. After around 9th grade, students have a few options: continue onward to 10th and 11th grade. Others go to “college” or “pre-college”, I can’t remember the distinction. The students I talk to at American Corner are all “college students” but they are around 15-17 years old. I like to think of Kyrgyz “college” as for students serious about attending university, as they study more heavily, and their classwork more closely resembles that of an American high school student. Anyway, regular 10th and 11th grade attendance dips significantly because of this. I hope that explanation made sense. I guess going on to 10th and 11th is like “level” classes and graduating and going to “college” is like going to take AP classes somewhere else.
Back to the last bell ceremony. Lots of dancing. The 9th graders wore blue/purple sashes and paired up boys and girls to dance to Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Ray. I said to Baktygul I was surprised they would play such a sad love song at graduation, but they didn’t know the meaning behind it. This year is the 20th anniversary of my school, so they had several alumni come and visit the school during the last bell ceremony and watch the performances. Representatives from the local government and the district/rayon came to give out awards (called gramota). I received one for excellence in teaching and earned some money too. After the ceremony was over, we ate some food inside the school canteen while everyone began to leave.
My village opened a new cafe (we have several already) across the street from Frank’s old house. We went to eat there and ordered an insane amount of krylishki (chicken tenders). I think we ordered 4kg worth! The alumni gave the school and teachers a large gift basket which included a bottle of red wine and a bottle of vodka. The young female teachers all went to the cafe, and they told me to hide the vodka and wine in my bag before we left. My school has a pretty sharp distinction between the “young” and “old” teachers (the young ones being early 30s to mid-40s, and the old ones being 50+ ejes). Even at school, the young teachers tend to sit on one side of the teacher’s room, and in the canteen, the young women sit at a separate table from all the men and old women. When I sat there, I almost felt like I was 5 again, sitting at the kid's table during Thanksgiving. The young ones are all women after Dustan agai, the music teacher, left. The young female teachers (kuzdar in Kyrgyz, which literally means girls or girlies) all have their own group chat, which I’m a part of, where they send Instagram reels and tiktoks along with lots of flower emojis; they’re great. Baktygul departed due to needing to look after her children (which I found ridiculous because all the teachers have their kids, but she said hers were crying at home).
After dancing a bit, I returned home and saw, not for the first time, a huge line of cars outside and around my house. A huge gym/court was right next to my house, and a huge group of boys and men were shuffling onto the court; a large football (not American football obviously) tournament was happening. I’m not super into football, but their cars occasionally fill up the roads leading away from my house.
K30, the next cohort, is arriving soon (it’s June 10 or something, around then). It’s been a year almost, hasn’t it? On June 12, I arrived in the country and departed for Orientation. Time found a way to run away from me. The heat is creeping in amidst lots of unwanted rain. This summer, I hope to start to finally learn some Russian. The construction workers have left but will come back. I changed the domain name of this blog so that hopefully, Instagram and Facebook no longer flag it as spam or whatever. It’s been a year of school, and now I’m basically halfway done, which is crazy to think about. I’ve become obsessed with watching this year’s Eurovision top performances and songs. Adelya and Alihan still play and watch English and Russian Masha and the Bear on repeat. Sometime soon all the relatives in Russia will come back. Summer’s finally here too… yay…À Bientôt,
Grace
Music
- The Code- Nemo
- Mon Amour- Slimane
- Maria- Dua Lipa
- Little Wing- Sia
- What A Woman- Faouzia
- Praising You - Rita Ora
What I’ve been watching and would recommend: American History X (brutal but worth watching), Hunger Games and the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (a mouthful of a title), The Idea of You, Kung Fu Panda (slayy), My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Challengers, Elemental, Stress Positions, The Breakfast Club, Fleabag
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