Halloween, Random Thoughts, and a Dress Code

October 24, 2006

11:30 AM

Tea or dinner with new people in my village sometimes ends up being a battle of hilarious misconceptions and displays of false pride. There are people here who see me as a savior. There are people who see my presence as unneeded (unneeded in the sense that intentionally or unintentionally I bring to the surface their faults). Much like any newcomer to any place or situation, I have the ability to see the normal as beautiful and the common as problematic. The people in my village who have a tough time with my presence feel so because my role here is to help; and in order to help I have to in some way expose some parts of village life and school life that they are struggling with. If I mention that I am writing informative letters to book donation organizations, it could appear two ways to the village and school. One, I can spark a fire in teachers and villagers to want to join the cause and realize they can help just as much as I want to. Two, I could really anger some people because I have brought to the surface an issue with both resource availability and their efforts previously taken to solve the problem.

The balance between savior and an unwelcome outsider is a tough role to fill. In my village, and throughout much of the country, the idea of “manhood” is a big thing. To have it questioned brings out the worst in many people (men, to be specific). There are plenty of aspects of this in the States, but the main difference is that social gender roles are much more split and defined here. In the unwelcome outsider role, I unintentionally seem to question the “manhood” of all of the men who see no reason in having a young American here to do the things they can do (and imagine the role in which some female volunteers have to struggle with). To them, I am taking jobs away from their country and, indirectly, money away from their country. I have had many occasions here where I simply sit back and smile as I was told that just because I am American doesn’t mean I can do more than them.

This is never a point I would argue with because in many ways, I agree. I am not a savior and I will not spend two years in this country and leave as a prophet. But when the conversation turns into a dissertation on why “he” and his country are better than me and America, I sit back and smile and nod in approval. Not having the will or language skills yet to respond saying that it is sentiment like that that has brought many nations and civilizations to the ground.

Somewhere in between the role of savior and unwelcome guest is the role of student and partner. Many people here, the majority I have met, see me in this role; the role of student, listener, helper, and partner in development. I have done my best to patiently observe and learn all while trying to begin to help since I have been here. The majority of Kyrgyz citizens that I have met are wonderful people thriving in a beautiful culture rich which history and tradition. The people in this country here are living, breathing encyclopedias full of a history and culture that dates back to before the beginning of time.

Some of the most incredible conversations I have had here have been with people mutually eager and excited to learn about my culture as I am to learn about theirs. Conversations like these with the eager and wonderful people that I have met are what will make my two years here a time of wonder and exploration that no website or book could ever provide.



October 30, 2006

7:15 AM

I woke up this past Saturday with the knowledge that a few things were going to be happening that day: some way and some how I was going to help the school celebrate Halloween. I must be honest; I had no plans when coming to site to do anything for Halloween. In my head I figured I would work Christmas celebrations and songs into my lessons once December rolled around. By this time I figured I might have the language skills necessary to give a cultural session to my students. But within my first week of teaching at the school, I was approached by students and various teachers about celebrating Halloween.

Apparently a few years ago they had a Halloween celebration and the school loved it. They figured if it was fun without an American helping to organize it, it would a blast now that they had their volunteer willing to bend and mold to their requests. Not really knowing what I was getting myself into, I agreed to help them organize something. Keep in my, I am by no means the definitive source on Halloween. I know that in America we wander the streets at night eating too much candy and either scaring or being scared. Beyond that, I lack a whole lot of knowledge on this holiday.

I started in my English club (the students that were really interested in Halloween and are by far my most intelligent and enthusiastic kids) by using Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Raven.” I gave them a bunch of words from the poem that we could translate into Kyrgyz and then discuss. After working through the translation session, I then wrote four words on the board: Devotion, Happiness, Love, and Sadness. I told the students that these were some of the major themes (Темалар) of the poem. After grabbing their attention by the fact that this poem could actually be pretty cool, I told them all to come to the board and spend a few minutes writing what came to their head when they thought about each of these words (I told them to think about a synonym—Синоним—for each word). The result is posted up on the photo site. In short, I was floored; they really impressed me with what they wrote up on the board. We then discussed the idea of feelings and briefly got into that this was what the poet was thinking when he wrote this.

Obviously, this veered a bit away from Halloween, but that was fine. I had initially planned on discussing the darkness of the poem and mentioning ghosts and all of the Halloween-type things in the poem. The English club students guided this lesson down and little bit of a different path and I let them. They loved feeling like they had some control in the classroom. I got wonderful feedback from them (non-verbal, but I could tell by how much they got into the lesson). Overall, this was an incredible start for my introduction to Halloween for the school.

We then decided later on that, with my counterpart, that we would have a Halloween party on Saturday, October 28. This would be the last day of the first quarter and the start of a ten day break. We agreed it would be a good day and then set into order setting up plans for what to do that night. Little did I know, this Saturday would hands down be my craziest day at site yet. The following is my best description of the entire day. Excuse me for the jumbled mess that will follow, but that is exactly what they day felt like. Here we go:

I had previously headed into town to make an abnormally large purchase of candy for the celebrations. On the Wednesday before I had decided with the students that we would try and pull off a Trick or Treat type celebration in the morning. They would dress up and then go around to each classroom as if they were different houses. I showed up to school around 8:15 on Saturday and went around handing candy off to various classrooms asking the teachers to give the students candy if they came to their door and said “Trick or Treat.” Insert here the first mess of the morning. I was told by the Zavooch (vice-principal) that the students would be allowed to go around the school at 9:30 and go “Trick or Treating.” I agreed and started going around telling the students (my counterpart and I decided that it would be easier to just have the 9th, 10th, and 11th grades dress up and take part). While I was walking around telling the students I noticed that there were no teachers any where in the school; students were bouncing around the hallways outside their classrooms.

I chalked this up to nothing at first, but started to really question it when a half hour rolled around and I saw a total of one teacher, and she was leaving the school. I decided to make my way up to the teacher’s lounge where I found all of the teachers having an impromptu meeting. Apparently the director of the school’s sister had died the day before. I didn’t know at this point, but would later find out, that my director’s family is hands down the most influential family in the village. They are very well respected and that meant that this day (Saturday) there was going to be a huge “funeral.” Upon finding this out, I pretty much just accepted that the trick or treating in the morning would not happen. But to my surprise, the teachers agreed that we would do that with the students and then cancel the rest of the day of school.

So I frantically went around trying to prepare the students to get ready to go around. In this frantic phase, I saw a bunch of students already eating the candy I had passed around. Problem one: After a little investigation, I found out that the majority of teachers I had given candy to had just given them to their class once I left and then continued their lessons. Problem two: Then once I got the students in order and ready to go around for “Trick or Treating,” I realized that only five students has dressed up and the rest were just going to “watch.” Obviously these weren’t really problems; they just meant that “Trick or Treating” was going to have to be adjusted a bit. At this point I had called the morning a failure and was ready to try and start preparing for the evening’s events to make sure one part of the celebration was going to work. But in true Kyrgyz fashion, things some how found a way to fall into place. Out of no where, my extended counterpart (the English teacher for the lower grades, who knows a little English) showed up and helped get all of the students organized.

Apparently the students had a plan the whole time. Their plan was go around the school and just barge into classrooms and scare all of the little kids and tell them to hand over their candy. Well hell, if traditional “Trick or Treating” doesn’t work, you can always resort to the bullying method (I was just hoping the eggs and toilet paper wouldn’t come out). As we made our way around the school, the scene turned out to be hilarious (a good hilarious). We would sneak up to a classroom door making as little noise as possible. Then on the count of three, the students in costumes would barge into the classroom scaring, literally, the students in the classroom and then demand they hand over their candy. If it sounds like madness, then I am getting the point across. It was pure madness and ended up being pretty fun. We did that for about a half hour, and then agreed to meet at 4:30 later that afternoon to set up the auditorium for the evening Halloween party.

I decided to retreat to my classroom to do some final grading for the end of the term grades. The Kyrgyz school system grades their students using a 1 through 5 (1 = F, 5 = A) scale and then uses a Journal to keep track of the grades. The Journal is essentially a large book for each class in the school (e.g. 11a, 11b, 10a, 10b…) that has a section for each subject. Every teacher is required to keep track of their students in this book. It can be kind of an overwhelming book right off the bat, but it’s not that bad. I personally believe that this system of grading shorts the students of some key feedback and grades that could aid in their development. But when resource availability is factored in, this is probably the most efficient method they may have at this point, using as little resources as possible.

So there I am organizing my practice copy of a journal (that Peace Corps had given us), with the intent of transferring it to the real books this week (October 30, 2006). Then my extended counterpart comes into my room and tells me that we are going to the funeral service. I was not about to turn down this invitation and hopped up to follow her out. We arrived at the house where there was already a good seventy-five people gathered around the house. Apparently, our first visit now was simply to go in and pay our respects to the male relatives who would be standing facing the Bozie (Yurt) crying to reveal their sorrow. We, myself and another man I was told to walk with (whom I had never met before), walked up to the relatives and shook all of their hands as a sign of our respect. I was then guided into the house where we had a few quick cups of tea, and then made our way out. We then headed back to the school where I had planned on resuming my grading and planning of the evening. Little did I know, the day had barely even begun.

After being at the school for a half hour, another teacher came barging into my classroom. This time it was the school’s Kyrgyz teacher (who has begun to give me lessons) telling me that we were all heading back to the house for the “actual” events of the funeral. This time I was kind of skeptical of what I was heading into, but never once considered not going.

Upon arriving back at the house I found myself standing around with the other teachers and now a crowd near one-hundred and fifty people. At this point in the funeral, all of the men were outside the gates, while all of the women were inside taking part in their mourning rituals. We ended up standing outside of the gates for a good hour and a half waiting for something. At that point I had no idea what we were waiting there for. Then all of the sudden I see the body being carried out on wooden planks with a blanket covering her. All of the men quickly drop into a squat and in a matter of seconds the crowd of men turned into a large prayer session.

* As a side note, this crowd of men was incredibly unique. There were “white beards” hobbling around on their canes, stand-out Russians dressed all in leather, and field workers still covered in dirt from their morning work (at this point it was noon). *

We prayed for about fifteen minutes and all rose to make a procession down the road to the cemetery. As the male relatives picked up the wooden planks holding the body and hoisted it to their shoulders, all of the women started their loud wailing to show their sorrow. The whole scene was really surreal, especially when we made our way to the main road (literally walking down the middle of it) and I could still hear the women wailing. We essentially put traffic to a halt; no one was about to try and past seventy-five men walking behind a “casket.” Once we made it to the cemetery there was a large hole already dug out. But what was unique was that they had dug out a tunnel in to the hole where the body was slid into. Once the body safely laid to rest in the tunnel, all of the men then came to the pile of dirt and each man grabbed a handful, said a prayer, and placed the handful into a shovel being held by a relative. In all, their were seven shovels that were ready to start filling the hole. After each man had placed in handful into the shovel, they then began filling the grave entirely. The men started rotating, taking their turns at shoveling some dirt into the grave; eventually the entire grave was filled. We then again got into a squat position for more prayers to complete the grave ceremony session.

Following the prayers, we once again dominated the main road and made our way back to the house, where all of the women were waiting for another session of prayers, this one all together (men and women). Then, like any Kyrgyz gathering, we were ushered into a nearby house for food. While walking to the house we passed the large kazaan (pot) cooking all of the meat and I was taken back by the thirty or so bowls filled with cooked meat and plov. Apparently they had slaughtered a cow for the funeral (a huge honor); there so much meat it was incredible. All of the teachers were grouped together in one room and we then took part in a quick, yet incredibly filling meal of beef and plov. I was really hungry at this point and welcomed a nice meal. Finally, around 2:30 PM, I was herded back to school and told that the events of the day (for the funeral) were completed. I thanked everyone for bringing me along and letting me experience a Kyrgyz funeral for the first time.

I then began to make my way back into school go grab my bag and head home for an hour break before I came back to school to start preparing for evening’s Halloween party. As I was about to enter the school, my phone rang. I picked it up to find my parents and their friends on the other end. They had taken a long weekend trip to Vegas with their “group” and decided that they would pick up a calling card and give me a holler. It was nice to hear from all of them. I talked to everyone (six people in all) for about a half hour hearing about the Circ de Sole (spelling?) show and that the St. Louis Cardinals had won the World Series. After getting in a word with everyone, I said my goodbyes and told them all to have fun.

By now, it was 3:00 and I had time for a quick break (and some coffee) at home. I journeyed home, brewed (poured hot water over instant powder) some coffee and set up a schedule for the evening’s events. After the craze of the morning hours, I had no idea what to expect come the evening and wanted to be as prepared as I could for the worst.

I arrived at the school at 4:30 to find none of the students who told me they would meet me there. I figured they were running a bit late, that was a gross understatement. By 5:30 PM, a half an hour before the festivities were supposed to start, five students had arrived, and none of them had showed up with what they were supposed to bring. I had posted a sign previously in the week near the entrance to the school asking students to bring apples (for apple bobbing) and pumpkins (for a pumpkin carving contest). I knew this was no large task to ask since the majority of students have apple trees in their backyard and pumpkins are all over this village. I was informed endlessly throughout the week that all of the students had collected the apples and pumpkins and they would bring them Saturday night. Well, by 6:00 PM, the time we were slated to start, we had one pumpkin, twenty students, and ten apples (with no buckets). Finally I decided to take a bit more charge and gave the first orders (rather than suggestions) to the students. I sent a group of students to get apples, a group to get pumpkins, a group to get water, and a group to get buckets/bins. At this point, I was hopeful that the party might happen, but still had readied myself to call the evening a failure.

Again, in true Kyrgyz fashion, a theme I’ve come to love, things started to magically fall into place. Both of my counterparts showed up out of no where (a half hour late, but they showed up) and started ordered students to get things into order (they had more power and control since they were able to use Kyrgyz words I don’t yet know). Between 6:00 and 6:30 PM, I found myself running around setting everything up as more and more students arrived with materials, friends, and Halloween joy (cheesy, I know). In the rush to get the apple-bobbing table set-up, the pumpkin carving tables organized and knives in order, and the music system running (an act that could have earned myself and a student of mine a degree in electronics), I had not even noticed the room slowly begin to fill up. Around 6:30 I looked up and saw that the room was filled with two-hundred or so people (students, graduates in town for the weekend, parents, and teachers) all ready to watch the evening festivities.

Eventually by 7:00 PM we got things under way with the pumpkin carving contest (which came naturally to these students who, like most Kyrgyz people, are very skilled with a knife). As the contest was happening, My counterpart and I lined up four students behind four basins of floating apples (five apples in each basin) for an apple bobbing contest.

The kids watching loved it as the students bobbing for the apples struggled and soaked their faces trying to retrieve apples. Eventually, we turned the apple bobbing into game worthy of XGames by placing a bucket on the other side of the room and requiring the students to grab and apple (with their mouth) and run across the room with it (in their mouth) and drop it into the bucket. By the time we finished the apple bobbing game, the half hour I gave for the pumpkin carving contest was up and it was time to judge the pumpkins. Overall, the pumpkins were incredible and very creative (see the photo site for some pictures). I chose a winner and gave the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place prizes (American coins).

Next up was a game of Halloween charades (thank you Tim) where my counterpart and I had one student from each class come up on the stage and act out what we told them. Their classes below were instructed to guess what they were, like any other charades games. But in this case, my counterpart required them all to answer in English (a formidable task when I gave them Goblin. But we let them get away with answering monster—which is an English/Russian cognate). After charades we moved into the final event of the evening, the costume contest. I tried to get all of the students to dress up, but that just didn’t stick with them. Instead, they chose one student from each class to show up in a costume and act as their class’ representative. The costumes, like the pumpkins, were amazing and very well thought out. I chose a winner (again, posted on the photo site) and told her that she could win costume contests in America.

As the festivities wore down, I sat back and watched as the students were allowed a 20 minutes discothèque (given permission by the extra-curricular activities Zavooch). I smiled watching them all awkwardly dance around in groups because it reminded me of my junior high dances. But I also had to smile because some how, some way, things worked out. I learned some valuable lessons in regards to planning and how to organize the students. I will surely take note of some of the things I caught on to (I found some much unexpected leaders among the students) and employ the next time I plan a “culture sharing” event.

The only real sour point in the night came at the very end when a few of the male teachers, who had obviously met before the party to share a bottle of vodka, started screaming at the students to leave, for no real reason in particular. This was really tough to watch because I knew that the teachers making a scene were some of the best the school has. And the saddest part is that it seemed like nothing new for these students to see their teachers drunkenly screaming. It was very hard to watch and ended up being, sadly, the most impressionable moment of the evening.

The teacher-student relationship is a very different one that what I grew up with, and I am still trying to get used to it. All of these students know their teachers personally, they live in a village of just over two-thousand people and see them all of the time. They have seen them drunk, seen them at holiday celebrations, and see them all of the time on the streets. I remember when I was in elementary and high school; if I saw my teacher outside of school I was floored, it was weird to think that my teachers had lives outside of the school. But this by no means is the point that stands out the most for me. Even with my obscure view of teachers outside of the school, I was raised in an education system that tended to avoid at all cost the authoritarian form of teaching. In my village, and I would have to suspect throughout a lot of Kyrgyzstan, the role of teacher and student is a very authoritative one. The students are the subordinates that will have the information driven into them through a dominating teaching giving drills and orders. I do not want to make it sound like a boot camp, but in my opinion I do not believe this to be most conducive way to educate a student. There are some incredible teachers at my school, but they think I am nuts if I shake the hand of a student, or if I ask a student how s/he is doing. It is not that the teachers don’t care about the students, it is just a combination of a culture, where the youth respect their elders, and the remnants of the Soviet style education (which all of the teachers were raised in).

The toughest thing for me to try and get across to the students, and hopefully share with some teachers, it that you can show respect for your elders (in this case, teachers), and still have a very informal and relaxed relationship. I may be miles off base here, but I believe I will be able to get the most out of my students if I make them feel comfortable and accepted in my classroom. I don’t want them to be scared of me, but see me as a person they can confide in. Some of my best teachers (Mrs. Lightfoot, Mr. Bosold, Ms. Awad) still linger in my mind because they allowed me to be who I was and grow in their classrooms. I now know that I was able to see them as a guide, rather than a leader with authority. Because of that, I confided in them and found myself opening my mind up to a world I never knew existed.

I still have a lot of learning and observing to do at my school. But for now, I know that my biggest hurdle to clear is going to be building an environment where both the students and teachers respect what I am doing. And in the level of respect, the students see me as a friend they can confide in and the teachers see me as someone who has a lot of information to share. The challenges are a plenty, but that is what makes it fun!


Random Note:

In honor of Andrew Paul Lewis, Joe Skorczewski, and my father, I would like to inform you all that as of this past Friday (October 27) I have worn a tie to work (school) two weeks straight. This may not be a huge accomplishment for many people, but as the previous three people I honored this comment to know, this is moving at leaps and bounds for me. I have some how found comfort in shoes (the cover my entire feet) and in my casual wear I have all of the sudden found myself wearing jeans, a dress shirt, and a sweater. In two years of this, I might return to the States and appear to be out of high school. APL and Joseph, this moves light years beyond t-shirts from the fifth grade!