One Peace Corps Volunteer’s chronicle of life in Kazakhstan

As of October 9 there are some changes here in Kazakhstan. Pretty big ones. Smoking has been banned in public places, and drinking in the streets is also a no-no. I think the drinking thing was against the law before but just wasn’t enforced very strictly.

About the smoking ban: according to an email advisory about the new law we got from Peace Corps today, smoking is prohibited in/inside public places and work places, including: educational institutions, administrative buildings / offices/ work places, medical facilities, museums, public eateries, cinemas, theaters, sport facilities, and other facilities designated for public gatherings, including night clubs, bars, disco clubs, and public transport.  The smoking ban also extends to the entrances/entry halls to the apartment complexes.

In airports and train/bus stations smoking is only allowed in the specially designated places/ smoking rooms.

The punishment for violation of the smoking restriction law is a fine from 10 to 60 monthly indexes. (i.e, in KZT equals from 12,960 to 77,760 KZT)

The law prohibits the selling of cigarettes to the persons under 18.

I’d say that’s quite comprehensive! And it’s already being enforced. A friend of mine told me that in Almaty recently he wasn’t allowed to smoke in a cafe. Not sure if it’s the same all over the country or not, but I’ll definitely be paying attention now. There was a no smoking sign in a local shop that I noticed today. A very new addition (even though no one smoked in there before anyway).

Prior to joining the Peace Corps I worked for the American Cancer Society in Tennessee. When I first started our big legislative push was for a comprehensive smoke-free law in Tennessee. We got close, but didn’t make it all the way. I’m still proud of the accomplishments of that organization and all its dedicated volunteers, but I must say I’m prouder still of this bold new move by my new country. The life expectancy for men here is miserable – 63 – and a lot of that has to do with heavy smoking and drinking.

It’s really cool to think that Kazakhstan has put into effect legislation that is so progressive (though some might call it repressive) in dealing with issues of public health.

Kazakhstan’s an amazing place. It makes me happy to think that these laws will help make the citizens healthier, give them a chance at longer life and as a consequence allow more of them the opportunity to share their culture with others for years to come.

It was a bold move, Mr. President, but this Peace Corps Volunteer thinks it was a darn good one!

This evening I took a quick trip out to one of the local дукендер (shops) to pick up a few things. On the way out I noticed that the air pressure and wind direction was such that all the exhaust from the smokestacks of our local industrial buildings was blowing into town and being held at about 5 stories and lower. Lucky me on the third floor. Right in the middle.

I thought it seemed kind of nasty this evening. That would explain why.

On the way back I could see all the nastiness that was being spewed my way. If it weren’t for the fact that there’s a law against it I would have take photos. All the stacks of the ferrous alloy plant were running at full tilt. Same for our coal-fired energy plant. The image was really eerie. Almost like something you would see in pictures of a huge fire. The sun was almost completely set, so the remaining light was very reddish orange. The remaining light also occupied a very small section of sky because the pollution blacked it out. It was quite literally like looking at a smog generator.

The craziest thing of all was this plume of flame at the ferrous alloy plant. I don’t know exactly what its purpose is or what it burns, but it’s pretty bright even in the day. But tonight it was just insane. That flame had to have been over 20 feet high and so hot that it would have vaporized a marshmallow had you tried to toast one on it.

It was really something else. And I get to breathe it all in for another year every time the wind shifts this way. At least I’ll have something to look forward to.

I’ve really been bad about updating since summer. Part of it was that I was traveling pretty much nonstop for several months, but part of it is that things just aren’t as new and exciting as they used to be. Life has become fairly routine. Well, routine in the very loose sense that has to be applied to routine here.

However, in an attempt to not be a pathetic excuse for a blogger, I present this latest post of Kazakhy goodness.

I went to Pavlodar over the weekend. Had a slight dental issue. Seems the permanent retainer I have on my bottom teeth decided it didn’t want to be permanent on one side any longer. After checking the other side and seeing that it had no intentions of giving up its position in my mouth I decided a call to one of our Peace Corps Medical Officers was in order.

At first we thought that I wouldn’t be able to get it repaired, only removed, locally. I was OK with that. Better to have no retainer at all than one that’s botched, right? Did I mention that things have gotten fairly routine here? Nothing exciting or exotic about this at all.

So Saturday morning I head to Pavlodar to get this wayward piece of metal taken from my head. Except the guy says he can fix it. Peace Corps doesn’t cover dental stuff, so I had to foot the bill myself. Luckily it was a very small bill. So I got everything more or less fixed. My investigation into the holding ability of the still-attached side seemed to have bent the wire a bit, so it’s not quite like it used to be. Ah well. Guess if my teeth start to get really crazy I’ll try to have it removed.

After my adventures in Kazakhstan dentistry it was off to explore the city. I met up with Emily, one of our Pavlodar-dwelling PCVs, and we cruised around a bit. Had lunch in a cafeteria. It was cool. Food was cheap and tasty and the décor was a rocking old-school Soviet theme. They loved them some Lenin!

Then we checked out a few shops. I was looking at clothing options – might have to buy a pair of pants soon – and Emily was looking for clothes hangers. I still remembered the Russian word for them, a word I learned nearly a year ago in my own hanger search and a word that I haven’t used since, so that was kind of cool. Also saw some neat watches that were made in Russia.

I’d been looking at mechanical watches online lately, and I recognized one brand as being the company that used to produce all the watches for the Red Army. They were not too expensive, so I thought I might buy one. And I did. That was kind of cool. All the writing on the face is in English, but everywhere else it’s in Russian. Pretty nifty, I think.

Later that evening it was off to a café for Jeffrey’s going away party. He’s not leaving for a while, but his organization wanted to have a party for him and they invited all the other volunteers in our oblast. It was a fun dinner. Among the many dishes we had that night was sturgeon. Yeah, the caviar fish. It’s also the Tsar’s fish. It’s also ugly as sin. But it’s quite tasty! We stuffed ourselves on a ton of other stuff as well. Then we danced a little. Then we called it a night.

And that, folks, is the latest and greatest from my neck of Kazakhstan. Tomorrow the Ministry of Education is paying a visit to our school. I think it has something to do with the school’s attempt to get certification as a school for gifted students. Should be interesting. Hope it works out. My director is certainly putting in the work to make it happen. Latest addition to our curriculum – Chinese. We also have a new zavuch (sort of like a vice principal) who will oversee our polylinguistic program. Jealous?

It’s been an eventful summer. Like the entire Peace Corps experience it was full of ups and downs. And tomorrow it all comes to an end as I go back to school to start the scheduling process.

Summer kicked off with school not ending. What? Classes stopped, but I kept going because we had a summer camp at my school that lasted the entire month of June. There were two parts to the camp – an overnight camp for younger students and a day camp for older students. The younger students had more of what I would consider a camp experience. The camp for the older students was a “subject camp.” Apparently what that means is that teachers from every subject are present at the school for a month to teach lessons to students who said they would come…but may or may not actually do so. Sort of like non-credit summer school with no attendance incentive. It has some room for adjustment.

I enjoyed the last two weeks of camp because that’s when I started working with the younger kids. Activities for them were much more fun for me, and it was hilarious the things that we (Kevin came down for week 3, Lindsey for week 4) had happen during the time with the little ones. At one point I think I must have had half a dozen or more 5-year-old kids hanging off of me. Kevin thought it was hilarious. I thought they were getting heavy.

After my escape from camp, it was off to Almaty. All the Kaz-20s had mid-service medical in July. On the way down, Lindsey and I made a brief stop in Astana. Her time in Kazakhstan was running out and she still hadn’t seen Astana. Mostly, she just wanted to see Baiterek – a Sunsphere-looking monument that is a fairly famous national symbol. Once we’d had our fill of the glories of Astana it was on to Almaty.

My doctor for the mid-service exam was the one and only Dr. Victor. He’s a really awesome guy. He was an officer in the Red Army and served in Angola. He also really loved the Soviet Union. Still does. To this day I believe that Dr. Victor’s stories about his life and experiences, as well as some great stories about what life was like in the Soviet Union, were some of the most culturally enlightening portions of my training. Long story short, clean bill of health.

Next it was off to the Kyrgyz consulate to get a visa. Good thing the majority of that happened after medical, otherwise my blood pressure would have been highly elevated. Let’s just say things were less than smooth. Within months of my travel group’s intended departure date it had been possible for Peace Corps Volunteers to get a Kyrgyz visa for $15 within 24 hours. Apparently the rules changed before we arrived, though. Now the visas (single-entry tourist) are $90 and require 3-4 days to process. Oops. After submitting our payment and paperwork and sitting outside the consulate for several hours (all the time thinking we would have to pay a bribe to get the visas), the consular officer told us that we would be able to get our visas the next day. And there was no bribe required. Once again showing what happens when you assume!

Once we had visas in passport it was off to Kyrgyzstan! We went down the pricey way – taxi – but it turned out to be a nice, albeit expensive, ride. Our destination was Karakol, a small town near the southeastern shore of Lake Issyk-Kul. It was a cool town and we stayed at a nice hostel. In the town the three big attractions were the Dungan mosque, the Orthodox cathedral and the animal market. Check, check and check. We took a day trip to the lake and then it was off to the mountains and a little hot springs community called Altyn Arashan. Our hostel there was also owned by the same folks who owned the one in Karakol. There we spent some time relaxing and soaking in the natural beauty and soaking in the natural hot springs! Then it was back down to Karakol for a night and then back to Almaty by bus.

Then it was off to Taldykorgan. I spent a few days doing some work for my secondary project, and then Lindsey and I went to a nearby city for another camp. This camp was with Bastau, a private school that several of the volunteers in Taldy work with. The school does great work and Igor, the director, is one of the coolest guys I’ve met in Kazakhstan. He’s got a great vision for the school and he’s got the drive and determination to see it through.

Bastau camp was challenging but fun. And it lasted two weeks. After those two weeks the whirlwind continued. The next stop on the summer tour was exotic Pavlodar. OK, it’s not all that exotic. But I had to come back because Maher, one of the Kaz-19s in Pavlodar, was getting married. It was my first wedding, and it was a great time. Maher and Vika looked amazing, and it was fun for everyone who came.

Next, I took a breather. Just kidding. Then it was on a train to Almaty. Lindsey was on her way out of the country and my mom and brother were on the way in to visit. They actually got to meet as mom and Aaron were arriving and Lindsey was preparing to depart. After saying hellos and goodbyes – it was a crazy morning – the family and I headed back to the hotel, had breakfast and got ready to see the sights. We didn’t see many, though, before we had to head to Shemalgan and visit my host family from PST.

That was a fun visit. My family got to meet, well, my family. We had a wonderful time and they got to learn a little bit about Kazakh culture. I think it also helped them both to have a better understanding of what my life here was like those first few months. The next day we flew to Pavlodar and continued on to Aksu by taxi.

After trying to regain a little lost sleep we all headed off to Pavlodar to meet Jeffrey, who gave us a tour of the city. We hit the high points and called it a day. The next few days were spent in Aksu. There was a tour of the city as well as dinner with my second host family. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to visit either my director or my first host family as they were busy with a wedding almost the entire time my family was visiting. Kazakh weddings take several days and the timing was just off. My counterpart also was at the wedding, but on the last full day in the Aksu area we were able to have lunch with her family in Pavlodar. That was fun because we had beshbarmak. It wouldn’t have been a complete Kazakhstan experience without it. Plus, there was horse sausage (қарта) and fermented mare’s milk (қымыз) – two other traditional food items.

Once back in Almaty we finished sightseeing and souvenir purchasing and it was back to America for mom and Aaron. A few hours later, back to Pavlodar for me.

I took a few days to rest and then went to Bayanaul to watch a teacher training seminar that Mary organized. I want to host one in Aksu, and I wanted to get ideas and take notes. The seminar was great, but a bit hard to follow. The volunteers who held the seminar did the entire thing in Russian. It was really impressive.

Another cool part about Bayanaul was getting to hike in some beautiful country. The area has Kazakhstan’s first national park. In fact, it was actually a park before Kazakhstan was a country. It was the Soviet Union’s only park in Kazakhstan. It’s amazing there. Took two really great hikes and got to meet and stay with a really cool local. I don’t know his real name, but everyone calls him Forest Brother. He’s a ranger in the park. His father was a ranger, too. The guy is a blast and a great guide…but he walks REALLY fast. He showed us some great spots and also helped arrange a trip for us to one of the nicest camps at a nearby lake. He also made us fresh shashlik one night.

And that’s my summer in a (very large) nutshell.

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.