One Peace Corps Volunteer’s chronicle of life in Kazakhstan

After a lengthy summer sabbatical – mostly due to lots of travel and glitches in Internet connectivity – I’m back. I hope to bring this blog up to date with some of my summer adventures over the next few weeks. Until then, just a quick post to show that the blog (and its author) isn’t dead.

Today marks my one year anniversary of living in Kazakhstan. Today’s also the day the new group, the Kaz 21s, arrives. By now they’re well into their training at the sanitorium. I hope they had a better trip than we did! Our plane was delayed in Frankfort for 8 hours. We came right off the plane and went straight into training. I guess that’s a pretty good indicator of how things were going to be during our service!

It’s hard to believe it has already been a year. The experience has been and continues to be unforgettable. Things are starting to click, and I’m much more comfortable here than I was before. My Kazakh is better (but still needs much work). Ditto for Russian. Good times.

Saturday I went to Pavlodar to celebrate a Kazakh holiday. It was interesting because I had no idea what holiday it could have been, as there are no official national holidays that take place on June 13 (or the second Saturday in June, as the case may be). I only knew that it would have yurts and Kazakh traditions. SOLD!

This involved getting up early on a Saturday in order to catch a bus at the Akimat at 7. The Akimat is not next door. It’s a 15-20 minute walk from here. Topping it all off, I was up until 1 the night before for a birthday/going away party.

Sidebar on the party – when I came up for my site visit, I stayed with a family. Their youngest daughter’s birthday was the birthday part of the event. Their oldest son is going to Alaska in a few days with the work and travel program. He’ll be working at what sounds like a fish processing factory. The party was filled with toasts. I got invited up with my first host family to do mine. After the toast, everyone but me and my host parents sat down. Then Dihan, the guy going to Alaska, pulled one of his friends up to me. This girl had been sitting at my left at our table and we had talked a little. Sometimes being friendly can cause problems! Long story short, the four of us were to play a game. The women had to take a spoon, put it up one pants leg of the guy’s pants and guide it to come out the other leg. The guy can’t help. He just stands there. No problem for a married couple. For me and a hapless total stranger, well, let’s just say that the crowd’s level of laughter and our level of embarrassment seemed to be directly proportionate!

After a few hours of sleep, I got up and made my move to the Akimat. Lots of traditional costumes and audio equipment were on the bus. But not a lot of people. We made one more stop at the house of culture, picked up more people then headed to Pavlodar under police escort. That was kind of fun.

When we arrived, we took all our stuff to the town’s yurt that had been set up inside one of Pavlodar’s parks. This one also happened to have an amusement park. And in spite of my better judgment I later tempted fate and took a ride on the Ferris wheel.

Soon after arriving, it was finally explained to me that we were celebrating a kymyz holiday. Kymyz is a summertime beverage made from fermented mare’s milk. So at approximately 8:30 in the morning, I started my day in a yurt sitting around a table with several of the lovely ladies (most were grandmothers, I believe) from my fair city. I had a breakfast of boiled potatoes, onions and a little boiled egg. Then some tea and…kymyz. After that, I took some photos and looked around the park a bit. Soon, three girls around my age told me to come with them to the naberyzhnaya in Pavlodar. Naberyzhnaya is technically a Russian adjective for “embankment.” But the term seems to be applied to parks on the bank of a river. That’s what we went to see. Ours in Aksu is small, but Pavlodar’s is huge and gorgeous. Some of the most beautiful landscaping I’ve seen in some time was at that park.

We arrived back just in time for bread and broth. The broth was from beshbarmak preparation. After that quick snack, there was more walking around the park taking photos and then the Ferris wheel of doom.

As I came back to the yurt I saw my director’s son and his wife coming up. The director immediately ushered all of us into the yurt for a quick snack. There I had what I’d call horse d’oeuvres. It was a piece of horsemeat topped with a slice of horse fat. Nurzhan handed me two, actually. One was also a veiny piece. Nothing quite so tasty a hunk of vein or artery in the middle of your horse d’oeuvres! Also had a few baursak and some almonds. All washed down with kymyz. Then it was off to the festivities.

There was a fun stage program and many different groups performed. The deputy akim for the oblast was there. Hadn’t seen her since the rehearsals for the prime minister’s visit. She was honored by the lady running the show, as were the directors of several cultural centers in Pavlodar.

After Aksu’s performers did their thing, we all went back to the yurt. I thought it was odd at first because the show wasn’t over. Then I saw the deputy akin and cultural center directors coming up and realized that’s why we left early. My director invited me in to speak to everyone. People always love it when the American speaks Kazakh. This time, though, instead of the usual, “My name is…” stuff I said hello and cracked a joke! I told the deputy akim that I was the American cultural center. She laughed at that. Then she really got cracked up when I told her, in Kazakh, that it was a joke. After my brief stay at the main table I moved to a side table so the servers could access the honored guests. And they were, indeed, honored. I FINALLY saw my first sheep’s head here. Didn’t actually get offered any pieces of it, but that’s OK.

Then it was beshbarmak, another horse d’oeuvre, some veggies, a few nuts and then….more kymyz. I sat beside a guy who I believe was a dombura professor at one of the Pavlodar universities. Nice guy. Great dombura player and a great singing voice. We chatted, though I had some difficulty understanding some of his questions. They were basic ones, but phrased differently and using unfamiliar words. He encouraged me to eat some of the best meat from the beshbarmak. I reached for a lean piece. He told me that wasn’t what he said – get one with some fat on it, young man. So I did.

There are different kinds of fat, you know. Some is hard, some is tough and chewy. Some is quite tender and buttery and literally melts in your mouth. I’ve never been a big fan of fat. I ate it like crazy in the winter this year because I just knew after a while that my body needed the calories. However, it’s not that cold anymore, and I’d prefer to avoid it if possible. Fortunately, this was the melt in your mouth stuff and wasn’t too rough.

From there things started to wind down. Eventually I caught a ride back to Aksu with Nurzhan and his wife and came back to the Pink Palace. It was a wonderful day, a great opportunity to soak up some Kazakh culture, and an incredible way to spend the day with some of the greatest people in my city.

A little postscript about kymyz…mare’s milk has an incredible amount of lactose compared to other animal milk. For that reason, it’s rarely consumed in its natural state due to its HIGHLY laxative properties. It’s widely believed to be a cure-all in the region. As the milk is packed with vitamins and minerals (it helps foals put on 4 pounds a day) there’s probably a good bit of truth to this belief. Still, all my local friends advise me that one should consume in moderation. Not only because of it’s alcoholic nature (it’s a low alcohol percentage, but the fermentation gives it a touch of a kick…and bubbles), but because it’s only good for you until you drink more than your body can handle. Sadly, I think I drank too much yesterday. Made for an interesting evening, but I feel much better now!

With the passage of time, this will probably be a hiliarious story, though I still feel really foolish at the moment. Tonight I went to a birthday party for Anelia, the youngest host sister from the family who hosted me during my site visit in Aksu. One small problem – the party’s on Monday.

The party was to be held at the cafe Anelia’s parents own. As I cruised up to the cafe I didn’t recognize a lot of the guests and they all seemed a bit overdressed for a birthday party – even by Kazakhstan standards. They weren’t, however, overdressed for a wedding. And that’s why they were there. Totally confused, my Kazakh picked a lousy time to briefly evade me. After a few minutes of trying to explain why I was there, Anelia’s father invited me in. And then I got to go in to the wedding reception. Sat at Anelia’s father’s table with the groom’s mother. At this point I realize I’ve made an epic mistake, but I’m also not going to be able to gracefully exit, either.

The groom’s mother told me that she was glad to have me there, and she and Balrabai, Anelia’s dad, insisted I stay and eat. I ate and I enjoyed the reception. But I really felt awkward. And got out of there as soon as I was given what I hope was the all clear. Otherwise I may have violated multiple cultural norms!

Times like this make me really happy to know how open and welcoming people can be. Especially when I do something stupid like that…. It’s also nice to be able to play the American card – he doesn’t know any better!

Never a dull moment. First wedding crashed, check. Scale – international. Feeling like the north end of a southbound horse – free.

The whisperings began about a week and a half before last bell. At first it was, “Someone very important might come to our last bell.” Then it was less subtle, “The Prime Minister might come to our last bell, but the director said she’d kill us if we told anyone and people on the street asked her about it.”

“Cool, the Prime Minister is coming,” I think. Of course I was reluctant to believe it. I mean, after all, he’s the number two guy in the country – his schedule is highly subject to change. Then again, could be a nice photo op…maybe, maybe. We’re a Kazakh Gymnasium, so it’s good for boosting national pride and whatnot. Hey, it could happen.

And so began the steady stream of dignitaries. At first, it was just a representative from the local akimat. Then the deputy akim came to check things out. I always like to see him. He’s a nice guy. Also, for some reason he reminds me of Eugene Levy, and who doesn’t love Eugene Levy, right?

But that wasn’t the end. No friends, only the beginning. Next was our town education department director – a representative may have come before that, too. That in itself isn’t quite as big a deal because his wife is one of our zavuches, his daughter graduated from the gymnasium and his son graduated this year. Still, in this instance it was a good sign of things to come.

The next day the place was in a tizzy. This time the town akim was coming. But he wasn’t coming alone. No, he was coming with the oblast akim. Essentially, the mayor and the governor were popping in to see if we were up to snuff. That day I got to sit in waiting in a physics class that is taught in English for the akims (or akimler if you want to get Kazakh with your plurals). They came, they saw, they apparently approved.

Soon the rehearsals began. We rehearsed the last bell ceremony several hours a day, every day, during the last week of classes. In the cold, in the rain. Indoors and out. We practiced. Now, my role in the ceremony was to stand in one place, clap when everyone else clapped and sing the national anthem with as much vigor as possible when it played. Still not entirely 100% on the words, but I gave it my best every time.

At first we practiced under the watchful eye of one of our zavuches, then zavuch and director. Then other people started to come and watch and adjust. First the town education department director and deputy akim came. Then the oblast education department director and deputy director came. They watched and made further adjustments. I start thinking there might be something to this visit after all.

Then the oblast deputy akim came. She took the bull by the horns and made the final adjustments. They were quick, decisive, authoritative and certainly no-nonsense. All the female dignitaries were like that. It’s pretty amazing to watch, actually. Women in power here are much scarier when they’re mad. And they all seem to be really in control of things. With most of the men in power, it’s just sort of like, “Oh yeah, I guess he’s in charge.” With the women, though, it’s, “Yeah, she’s definitely in charge and God help me if I screw up.” The aura of power and authority they have is something else. They don’t tolerate no mess, you might say. At the same time, all folks in power here that we saw at this event would on occasion joke with the youngest students and gently help them out. It was a touching dichotomy.

Moving back from that tangent, the day I realized this was probably undoubtedly a go was when the Prime Minister’s representative came to the school to briefly meet with the upper echelon. I actually bumped into him in the hallway as the whole group was leaving and got to meet him. He seemed impressed that I knew a little Kazakh. Then we had a brief talk (that I mostly understood) about what a great instrument the dombura was. He was also impressed that I was learning to play.

The day it really hit home was when we started practicing outside for the first time with the final script. We’d practiced outdoors the entire time. The entire time we had a PA system. But once they said the PM’s name on the loudspeaker the secret was out and it had to be for real.

And it was. On May 25, the day of last bell, we waited around for many hours for his schedule to clear. We had several false alarm scrambles for the front before finally taking our places to get the show on the road. A few police cars started to roll in randomly, but it didn’t really seem caravan-like. Then I heard rotors. Two helicopters flew over heading toward the outskirts of town. That’s where both a new school and hospital are being built. After touring those, I assume, the caravan finally arrived. Lots of cars. The interesting thing is that the VIPs seemed to be in microbuses, not luxury sedans.

And then we began. Good times. There didn’t seem to be a vast armed security presence, which is a stark contrast to a visit by any major US political figure. That’s not to say that he didn’t have people. I attracted plenty of attention in the school from security dudes in suits. Outside, too. I had to show my Peace Corps ID inside the building to one of the guys. I was standing outside the physics classroom – I was supposed to sit in on a physics class later in the day the PM was going to attend. He (security suit) starts grilling me in Russian, which I don’t understand, about what I’m doing there. I didn’t have a badge like the other teachers. Mostly because no one ever gave me one…. The physics teacher explained it to him, but it was still a little annoying. Whatever.

All in all, it was a cool visit. Wish I would have gotten my picture made with the PM, or even gotten one of him (cameras were forbidden – they don’t make good photo ops for the real photogs). Didn’t make the newsreel either. But I was there! And that, friends, is last bell with the Prime Minister. A well-orchestrated visit that gave our school great recognition and gave us a chance to strut our stuff for the PM. I hope he liked what he saw.

One week to go and my first academic year as a Peace Corps Volunteer will conclude. Then I get to kick off a month of camp in June! That’s irony, not really excitement, by the way. Still, it’s another milestone in this interesting journey that I’m on.

What I’ve learned along the way so far:

I’m not much of a teacher. At least not when it comes to English. I suppose the students may have gleaned a nugget of knowledge from me on occasion, but I really don’t feel like I did all that much for them. Granted, sometimes that was due to being unable to control the circumstances, but it still stinks. I have a plan for what I’d like to try to do next year, and I hope it will be more successful. Rather, I hope it will feel more successful. Nothing makes you second guess yourself quite as much as watching all your students speak less and less English in class every day…and start speaking more and more Russian (in a Kazakh gymnasium!).

In spite of everything, I have had some recent successes. And those successes came in a most unanticipated form. All my recent successes in engaging students and encouraging them to speak English have come from Uno. Yes, Uno. That perennial favorite card game with a little Spanish language flavor. All my students (7-10 grade) love it. Absolutely love the game. We hit a slight snag early on where one of our school rules (no playing cards during school hours) threatened to torpedo the whole thing. However, when my reaction to said snag was nothing short of white-hot rage, the problem seemed to disappear in a hurry. Seriously, I’m normally pretty laid back. Being too laid back has probably been a bigger problem for me than anything here. But you even think about trying to stop the only thing that the students have responded to in the last six months and you just stepped between a bear cub and its very big, angry momma.

Speaking of mothers, I’m sure mine is reading this and freaking out a little bit about me losing my temper. Rest assured, mom, that it was quite controlled and I calmly stated my point of view in a very cool manner. Also, I learned that not all cultural differences are so bad. In this particular instance I could have totally flipped a switch and it would have been acceptable. Strange but true.

Another upside to all this is that I believe it shows that I’m finally integrating to the point that I understand the rules and know when it’s OK to talk loudly in a way that would be seen as anger in America. The downside is I’ll have to unlearn that before I go back!

So back to Uno, glorious Uno. The vocabulary you need to play the game is simple. There are a few new words that get added in, but all in all it’s not vocab intensive. Incidentally, the words that are new are both card game specific and always forgotten by the students. I don’t know how many times I’ve given the the verb “to shuffle” and the gerund “shuffling” – also surprised that I know what a gerund is now – only to have it forgotten and replace with the motion and attempts at shuffle sound effects. It’s pretty funny actually. None of them can shuffle and bridge the cards, either. They think it’s the coolest thing. I could probably do a whole lesson on shuffling cards!

The first time we played it was chaotic – lots of shouting in Kazakh and Russian and a ton of gesturing to go with it. That’s OK. Learn how to play first. Then comes the fun. New rule – if you speak in Kazakh or Russian you must draw a card. You’d be amazed how quickly the room got quiet. And equally amazed how quickly they started trying to speak in English. Then, my students are quite clever, they insisted that I play using a no speaking English rule. I can only speak Russian and Kazakh. How handy is that?

So there you have it. What could have been a year of horrible attempts at teaching has been saved at the last minute by a simple card game. This place is always full of surprises.

I’ll go ahead and admit that I’m mildly confused as to which holiday it was we celebrated today. I think it was related to Victory Day – it looked a lot like Victory Day – but it’s two days early. My counterpart said that today was the day of celebrating the defenders of the motherland. Both are throwbacks to the Soviet Era. And it’s that nostalgia which brings you today’s post!

Today at noon I went to our local park for the dedication of the memorial the veterans of the Afghan conflict. It was a nice ceremony and they unveiled the monument – a tank. Then flowers and such were placed at the base of the monument and soldiers fired a 9-gun salute. Three guys, three shots. You do the math. Also, many people were given medals by the town’s deputy mayor. A lot of folks here have a lot of medals. Especially the men and women who were involved in the Great Patriotic War (that’s WWII to us). In fact, Victory Day, which takes place May 9, is the celebration of Russia’s victory over Nazi Germany. But I digress.

This afternoon at three I went to the house of culture and watched a concert that was also related to the holiday. Again, very interesting and entertaining stuff.

What I couldn’t help but think about is the irony of my attendance at this ceremony. I’m an American at a ceremony honoring the men of the Soviet Army who fought against the rebels in Afghanistan. A guy from the country who supplied weapons and training to the people who were trying to kill today’s honorees. That’s not something to be taken lightly. It’s even more ironic in light of the fact that now America is engaged in a battle against, essentially, the same enemy in that country. Add to that irony the steady diet of anti-Soviet propaganda we were all fed growing up and you’ve got a seven-course dinner of irony.

Another thing that I found interesting, and would have probably found even more intriguing if I completely understood it, was a song that one of the veterans sang about the conflict. It was a Russian ballad that seemed to, by my best estimation, talk about the war and the fight against the Muslim bandits. What’s interesting about that is that the guy singing the song was Kazakh. The vast majority of Kazakhs are Muslim. So contrary to what we saw in Rambo III, not all the guys fighting in Afghanistan were Russian. Interesting sidebar, one of the volunteers in Pavlodar watched Rambo III recently with his Russian girlfriend. The Russian in the movie was so bad that she thought they were speaking a different language altogether! End sidebar. Now, here we have a war against Muslim extremists that’s pitting Muslims against each other. That just seems like it could be a really difficult thing. But then again, what do I really know about it?

So what did I take away from all this, exactly? Well, it just helped to fortify this ever-growing sense that we’re all the same way down deep. We may have different ideologies, different religions and different cultures, but we’re all human. It’s been a truly eye-opening experience living in this country. Even now, the Soviet influence is still heavy. The system was so deeply ingrained in the populace that it may take decades for it to resolve, if ever it does. The other thing I notice is that even though I spent my whole life being told by American society that the Soviet Union, Communism and Socialism were bad things, it’s very different once you meet the people who lived through those things. It’s also very uplifting to see that even though the Soviet system tried its best to rub out the cultures of the people it absorbed into its collective, the cultures survived.

Today marks my first full day of independent living in Kazakhstan. I’m pretty excited about it. I have my own place. I have high-speed Internet. I have food. All in all, life is good. Interestingly enough, I feel that I’ve really turned a page in my service because of it. Granted, I’m sure I’ll be completely worthless for a few days while I get reacquainted with the Internet, but overall this is a really good thing for me. Maybe not the same for every volunteer, but I think it’s good for me.

I’ve taken to calling the place the Pink Palace. Mostly because the exterior of the building is painted, well, pink. A lovely shade of sun-faded Pepto-Bismol pink. There’s also grey, but it’s mostly pink. I briefly toyed with the idea of calling it the Pink Pony as a nod to the importance of horses in Kazakh culture. Then I decided it sounded too much like a strip club. And in fact there is a strip club in Atlanta called the pink pony (learned this from a volunteer from Atlanta).

Speaking of horses, I had my first kumys a few days ago. What the heck is that? I’m so glad you asked. It’s fermented horse milk. My host mom said it wasn’t a very good example of kumys, though. A little sour, she said…I think. My Russian isn’t so great, but I’m pretty sure that’s what she said. Perhaps you’re wondering what kumys is like? Well, I thought it would be thicker, but it’s pretty thin and runny. It’s fizzy, which I also hadn’t really anticipated. Had a bit of a funky albeit indescribable flavor, too. All in all, not bad. Though I think I’ll hold out for the good stuff next time. Shubat, the camel equivalent of kumys, is thicker according to the host fam. Don’t know that I’m up for that just yet.

A lot has happened lately, but I don’t really even know where to start. I’m just jazzed to be online again! So there you have it friends. The latest and greatest from my world. Also, I have Skype now. So hit me up if you’d like to chat!

Today was the big day. After weeks in the making, we had the community project meeting with all the town’s English teachers. Also on hand were several people from our local education department as well as someone from Pavlodar. It was a really incredible thing to be in a room full of English teachers. These are all people I probably should have met much sooner, but I hope now that this will help to propel my service in a new and exciting direction.

I put together a few PowerPoint presentations for the conference today. One was about me and my experiences in Kazakhstan so far. The other was about the community project. A final presentation I used was a Russian language presentation about Peace Corps. Don’t be too impressed, I didn’t put that one together. Peace Corps gave it to us. Also, they gave us an English version of the same thing, so my translation work was minimal.

It was a fairly surreal day for me. Before the conference started, I was working the room getting everyone’s name and welcoming them all to the conference. And when it was show time I hopped up to the podium and did my thing. I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought that I was suddenly catapulted back into my PR role. Guess my previous work experience paid off, because I felt like things went really well. I think I flubbed maybe three words in the presentation. Made up lots of time that had been lost by folks going over their scheduled speaking times. It was cool.

Now all that remains is to see how this all turns out.

There were definitely some hurdles to overcome on the lead up to this day. I think I was able to help head off some potential problems early on. Unfortunately, I also didn’t anticipate a few things that might still lead to difficulties later. However, there’s no need to worry about them until they actually become issues.

I did have what I would call a Peace Corps moment yesterday during the final prep for the meeting. My counterpart likes to have control of situations in which she’s involved. In regards to wanting to have control of things, she and I are very similar. Our approaches to regaining that control are very different, though. When I don’t have control I tend to take a very systematic, one step at a time approach to solving the problems. When my counterpart doesn’t have control, it tends to stress her out, and when she’s frazzled she runs all over the place trying to address all the problems at once. She’s tough to keep up with, too. The woman has some kind of energy when she’s under stress!

At one point yesterday afternoon we had finished almost every detail related to our conference. All that remained was to finish the speech outline for our director in Kazakh and Russian. The Russian was spot on because my counterpart did it and all her schooling was in Russian. She knows Kazakh, but she usually asks students to help with the translation of that. As she sat looking at that translation with our two zavuches (vice-principals), all three realized that things were not quite right. They all quickly began to correct the speech. And I just sat there. At first, I was a little annoyed that I was just sitting around watching other people work on aspects of this community project without including me. Then I realized that’s exactly what we’re trying to get our communities to do as Peace Corps Volunteers. We want them to take ownership of the projects. We want them to be able to repeat the steps laid out in this project to accomplish other future projects after the Volunteer has left the site forever.

That’s when I had my Peace Corps moment. I realized that everything I was working to achieve by the time I left was already happening. And it was happening much sooner than I would have ever imagined! Not a bad way to end a long day.

And the ending to today’s long day? I made a presentation on Peace Corps to every English teacher in this community. I took steps that will hopefully involve the entire community in my project. Hard for the end of the day to top that mid-day capstone.

I took a trip to the post office today during a break between classes. On my walk back I realized that I was, for the first time since arriving, finally seeing my town. At this point I feel like I know the main features of the place fairly well, but there were so many details I had been missing.

Whether this was caused by physically or metaphorically having my head down for the past several months, I don’t know. It’s safe to wager that I may have missed a few details with my head down, body leaning into the often fierce, frigid winds that punctuated winter. It could also be that the overwhelming shock of all the rapid, continual changes of my life here blocked out all but the most critical features of the world here.

But today things were clearer. The weather may have played a part as well. It was a bright, sunny day with a beautiful pale blue sky mottled by cottony white clouds. The trees aren’t in bloom or even bud, but the first green shoots of grass are making their way skyward.

Today I finally noticed details of buildings that I’ve walked past for months and not realized. Several of the apartment buildings and schools are quite beautiful in their own plain, utilitarian way. Another building that I always saw as being a solid, bulky structure is in fact nothing more than a shell. There are no windows in the frames, frames which have a substantial patina of rust, and the whole thing is open and empty.

I still struggle daily with the challenges of living in this place, but I feel like the general trend of life is an upward one. After the lows of the last few months it’s certainly nice to be heading back up.

There’s still much work to do. And though the Peace Corps stresses flexibility, I think I’ve been confusing flexibility with malaise for some time. To accomplish anything here I’ll need to be persistent and dedicated. It’s still possible to be flexible while doing that. What flexibility isn’t is sitting back and waiting for a better time or opportunity to start something. Flexibility is working voraciously towards a goal from as many different angles as possible. It’s also knowing when it’s time to adjust the goal.

During our training in Almaty we did an exercise about what “hat” we wear in the teamwork process. My primary hat seemed to be the control one. With this knowledge firmly in mind, the previous paragraph is mildly amusing and hardly surprising.

If you’ve made it this far, thanks for hanging in there. I’ll catch you next time around!

I can see the ground again. After the longest and coldest winter of my life, signs of spring are in abundance in Aksu. My mood has improved greatly and I’m just enjoying life. It’s amazing what warm weather and sunshine can do to make things better.

At the end of March the students have a break from classes. A break for the students means it’s a good time for training for PCVs. So I had a date with destiny in Almaty. But before going to Almaty for a week, I decided to join several other volunteers in Shymkent to celebrate Nauryz, the traditional Kazakh and Muslim New Year.

Getting to Shymkent was accomplished by spending three days and two nights on a train. For the first time, I rode platzcart instead of coupe. Platzcart is the cheapest way to travel by train. It’s an open car that houses quite a few people. One side of the car has two sets of bunks that flank a table. These beds are perpendicular to the train. On the other side of aisle is one set of bunks that runs parallel to the train. The bottom bunk converts into two chairs and a table. This configuration continues for the duration of the car, except for the ends, which have toilets and conductor cabins. Coupe, on the other hand, has cabins with locking doors that contain two sets of bunks. Each has its advantages and disadvantages, but I felt like platz would be an adventure.

When my trainmates and I arrived in Shymkent, we took our bags to the apartments the local volunteers had rented for the visitors to share over the weekend. After dropping the bags, we caught a taxi to Turkestan to meet with the other volunteers on the cultural tour. We wanted to go to Otrar, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but our cabbie didn’t know how to get there, so we just ended up in Turkestan. Unfortunately, the bus went to Otrar first…so we waited. But we had shashlik so it was OK.

Once the rest of the group caught up with us we toured the mausoleum in Turkestan. It’s supposed to be the holiest Islamic site in the country, and it also has one of the largest domes, I believe. We weren’t allowed to take photos inside, but I tried to get plenty of exterior shots. Some were pretty decent. It was an amazing structure and a great cultural experience. Check out my flickr photostream for the goods.

Before entering, I went to a toilet building that was nearby. Inside I noticed that it was set up for the ritual washing that Muslims are required to do before prayer. I’ve learned how to do the ablutions, and I thought that it would be respectful to do them before entering this holy site. I wasn’t alone in the building, though. You should have seen the looks I got! At first the men were confused, then many of them started asking me questions in English. Later I realized that they must have thought I was Muslim and wanted to know how long I had been studying Islam. I told them since December, which was when I had first been to our local mosque with a co-worker. Technically, I suppose I have been studying the practices of the religion, though I haven’t actually converted. It’s a fascinating religion with myriad tradition and ritual, and the more I learn about it the more I learn about the Kazakh people.

When we returned to Shymkent we all went out for the evening. It was a good time, though there were several fights at the club. Fortunately the fights were all between locals. Usually one of us would grin and say “Texas” after things cleared up. A lot of Kazakhs call Shymkent Texas because they say it’s like the Wild West.

The next day was Nauryz proper. I headed to the hippodrome to watch traditional Kazakh games. It rained, which was kind of a bummer, but it definitely made kokpar more interesting to watch! Kokpar, as I believe I may have mentioned in a previous post, is an equestrian game that might best be described as goat carcass polo. The kokpar, as I understand, is the game ball. The game ball is a goat carcass that has been relieved of its head and hooves. It’s violent, fast-paced and fascinating. The other games were fun to watch as well, but kokpar was something special.

After that, another volunteer and I took the overnight bus to Almaty. Some other volunteers booked seats on a sleeper bus. If I ever do an overnight bus again, I want the sleeper. Sitting in a cramped seat for 12 hours on a hot bus was one of the most miserable experiences of my life. The headrest wasn’t high enough for me to comfortable rest my head, so it was a long, brutal night. Not to mention that Kazakhstan’s roads aren’t always the best. There were times when I was fairly certain we were driving across a bombing range because the potholes were so numerous and deep. Trains are definitely better, even if they’re slower.  The tracks are much less bumpy than the washboards that seem to pass for roads here.

The payoff was that I got an extra day to go visit my PST host family. From the Peace Corps office, I got a minibus to Altyn Orda, one of the transfer points to Shemalgan. It was an adventure. There was a man passed out in the middle of the front seat. I had to push him over to sit down. The driver knew him and tried to get him up and out when his stop came, but the guy was just too far gone. He ended up going all the way to Altyn Orda with us. Toward the end he stopped leaning on the window and started leaning on me. I’m fairly certain everyone in the bus was having a good laugh about that. When we finally arrived and I stood up to get off, I had to do it carefully so the poor guy didn’t fall in the floor!

Then it was off to my first home in Kazakhstan. I’d told my host sister that I was coming to visit, but never gave her a time. I got off at the bazaar and bought some fruit and then took a taxi to the house. The driver took a turn I would have never taken, but it was a turn for the best. We drove right past my host dad! We stopped and he got in and rode back with me. When we got to the house he ran in and yelled to my host mom that Baurzhan was home. She came around the corner with her hands over her mouth and I swear I thought she was going to cry.

My host sister was visiting a friend, and my host brother was working. Although I got to see my sister, my host brother didn’t make it back before I left. I did, however, meet his new wife! She was super nice and absolutely beautiful. Erzat landed quite a catch! We sat around and chatted, ate dinner, showed pictures from Nauryz and just had a good time. Between Shymkent and the host family I was really feeling great about my Kazakh.

In Shymkent, Kazakh is spoken much more than Russian and we Kazakh speakers really got to show our stuff. My host family told me how great I was doing in Kazakh and how I wasn’t struggling for words as much and was much smoother in my speaking. In fact, I hardly spoke any English the whole time I was there.

Then it was back to Almaty for the Volunteer Action Committee and check-in to our hotel for training. The training was good, and it was great to catch up with all my friends from PST. Plus I got the chance to get some of the other 20s a little better. This time we were all a little bit more relaxed and most of us had a party every night. Good times, little sleep.

Now I’m back at site with renewed energy and elevated spirits. I don’t know what the future holds, but I think I can do some good while I’m here. I guess I’ve already been doing some good for seven months, but now maybe I can add some extra value to it.