January 18, 2007

8:20 AM

It’s been a while since I sat down and did some writing. I really don’t know where I left off in my last post, so I think I am just going to start typing:

After spending my first three months at site bunkered down and loving it, I have spent the past half month doing just the opposite. After New Years in the village with my family and Amy, I traveled with Amy out to her city of residence for a few days in the biggest city on the lake, Karakol.

A bunch of volunteers had planned a gathering in Karakol earlier in the winter and I thought it would be a nice opportunity to hang out with them all. We spent a few days sharing stories and just releasing the struggles of PC life that are many times inescapable. It was nice; this was really the first time since I had been in country that I just completely shut down. I stepped away from the world that had become my own and faded away for a bit for some recharging.

We talked about volunteer life, future plans for summer camps, watched movies, played games, and cooked a ton of food. By and large though, the largest step away from my life as a volunteer was our day-trip to the local ski-resort (yeah, you heard me right, I said ski-resort). There is a resort just outside of Karakol that is a fairly classy place run by some wealthy Russians.

When we arrived there on our ski day it felt very weird to see so many, well, rich people. Kazakhs, Russians, Europeans, and Kyrgyz; there was an eclectic mix of people who were arriving to the mountain in SUVs and all stepped out of their tanks in matching ski-gear. Suffice to say, this was very expensive trip, but it was worth it.

There are no ski-lifts at the resort; they have t-bars that pull you up a very long route to the top of the mountain. The t-bars aren’t that bad, except for the fact that a line for them takes about an hour and a half. I made it on one once, and then turned to the most logical next step with a few other volunteers: hiking. We hiked up the mountain a few times and let me tell you, you appreciate your ride down much more when you just hiked up the entire run.

I don’t think I mentioned yet, but they had snowboards at the resort, so I didn’t have to learn how to ride skis in Kyrgyzstan. It was a truly unique experience to be able to snowboard in the KG; it hit me a few times while hiking that I was hiking a mountain in Central Asia so that I may snowboard down. I surely never thought this would ever occur in country.

While the riding was fun, the best part of the day was, as I mentioned in a previous post, the feeling of family between volunteers. It was great to be out there with a few other volunteers and just talk, share stories of the past and present, and have a little fun. I love my village and the life I lead here, but I outside of my village I have a family that thrives on shared experiences and struggles. The ski-day was a fun way to fade away from life a bit and get a bit closer with my family away from home.

And one last thought on the ski-trip: the view from the top of the mountain was breathtaking. From where we were, we could see the lake in the distance and follow the exact valley from which it was fed. I will post some pictures up whenever this post gets up. This country is full of natural beauty, and one of its’ many treasures was revealed to us from the top of the mountain where we stood a few weeks ago.

Upon returning to my village from Karakol, I quickly turned around and packed for a trip to the big bad Bishkek. For this past week, we took part in IST (In-Service Training). This training was scheduled to be around our six-month anniversary in country and is meant to provide further training based upon our experiences in country since we’ve been here.

Before I went to Bishkek though, I decided I was going to stop by my PST host-family’s house for a night just to say hello. My PST host-family was incredible and played a very vital role in helping me transition from American life to Kyrgyz life. I felt I owed it to them to stop by and say hello. Plus, I genuinely missed them; I built a cool relationship with all of them, based largely off of non-verbal communication. I missed my two sisters back in the training village and, of course, my Apa (mother).

The drive up to the village felt really weird, it felt like returning home. I felt like I coming back to the place where I grew up. I remember the first time I walked back into Forest Elementary School after a few years. I remember looking at the playground, the classrooms, and the auditorium. There was a lot that I learned there and a lot of struggles that I dealt with. Strangely, this similar feeling came across me when I arrived back into my training village.

In a short two and half months I did a lot of growth in my first place of residence in the KG. A lot of emotion was brought to the surface there; there were ups and downs, pains and joys in Nurmanbet (the village). I missed the place and it felt good to arrive to my first “home” in Kyrgyzstan.

To top it all off, the best part came when I quickly realized how much more fluent I was in Kyrgyz from when I left. I arrived and quickly jumped into conversation with the family. We talked about my new village, new family, family back home, and teaching. I was able to ask them questions about their life, work, and school. The entire time that I was talking with them it felt so good to have a conversation with the people who knew me when I didn’t know one word in Kyrgyz. To know that they took me in as the naïve American only to watch me slowly grow felt really good.

I felt like they were proud of me, they loved that I had made strides in my language and cultural understanding. They repeatedly told me how good they thought my Kyrgyz had become (which can be deceiving; if I spoke two Kyrgyz words to some people in this country they would tell me that I had perfect Kyrgyz). Nonetheless, it was great to see them all and was nice to head back as a guest, and be treated as a guest, rather than a needy American.

The next day after my visit to the PST host family, I grabbed my things and made my way to the big bad city of Bishkek. For the first time in my life, I felt like a country boy coming to the city to the first time. Yeah, I had been to Bishkek before during PST, but that was different. All of those trips were with Peace Corps and we were guided around. Approaching the city, building started to appear, traffic picked up a bit, and the trolley-bus wires become visible overhead.

I felt like Crocodile Dundee arriving in New York City. I was starring out the window of our taxi wide-eyed. So many people, so many buildings, so much noise! It’s amazing what living in a village for three months can do to your memory of city-life. It felt weird and exciting to arrive in the KG’s capital.

We made our way to our hotel (where all fifty-six of the K-14s would be staying for a week) and checked in. We dropped our bags and then headed into the city. Our first stop was Beta Stores, a very large Turkish owned supermarket that was kind of like a Target with four floors. The first floor is food, second floor is electronics and the café, third floor is clothes (with a North Face store and more), and the fourth floor is furniture. Simply put, this place was breath-taking, there was so much here; stuff I had not seen for six months was in large quantities on the shelves (i.e. Salsa, Soy Sauce, Mustard, Tortilla Chips; the list could go on for a while). I was in so much shock; I just looked around and then made my way out of the store with the few volunteers I was with. I knew I would be back.

We left Beta Stores and headed for a popular American Pup in downtown Bishkek called the Metro. Word had spread that this was the meeting point for all of us coming into town and we were not about to miss out. Essentially, this place ended up housing all 56 of us. People would arrive in waves and every time a new set of people would arrive our crowd would erupt. It was the first time many of us had seen each other in three months and we were letting know the entire bar that this was our reunion.

To top it all off, this pub served international food and Guinness (!); my first meal in Bishkek: a quesadilla and a Guinness. I didn’t head to Bishkek searching out anything, but once I arrived at the Metro, I realized that the one thing I had truly missed was dark beer. All I needed was one, and that one felt so, so good.

For the week that I was in Bishkek I spent four of the nights out for dinner. I had Italian two nights, and cheeseburgers the other two nights. The meals were wonderful and felt good to let my body (and my wallet) splurge on some fine dining for a few nights. By and large the best night was when Amy came to Bishkek for an evening.

She had a meeting in Bishkek and after the meeting we headed out for dinner. She knows Bishkek much better than I do (being here for over a year) so she knew a great little Italian restaurant. Literally it was a tiny little place tucked away in the corner of a park. The place was named Edgars’ (Эдгарс). Inside it was a wood paneled and candle-lit and set up with booths, tables, and a tiny bar in the back. After we had sat down and ordered our meals (I got lasagna and friend spinach!), the Russian jazz/blues band set-up in the corner and started to fill the tiny place with some smooth sounds. The atmosphere was incredible and it was a nice to place to be able to actually head out on a date with Amy.

After dinner we headed out to walk around the town for a bit. All of the sudden it all came rushing back to me. I forgot how good it felt to walk around a city a night. I love walking around Chicago at night and heading out to wander Bishkek brought all of that love back. Bishkek is a pretty lively town, so there was a ton of people out of the town. We just wandered, mingled, took some cheesy pictures, and had a nice evening out on the town. An evening “out on the town;” another thing I thought I would never say in Kyrgyzstan.

I have no idea when my next time in Bishkek will be, but I know that I will not spend as much time (and money) on the town; but it felt good to spend my fist time out and around and enjoy some little glimpses of life back home.

As for the real reason I was in Bishkek, the training was wonderful. PST (Pre-Service Training) had its good moments, but came off disorganized and ineffective sometimes. IST was a complete reversal to any of the issues that I had with PST. The organization was impeccable and I honestly loved all of the training sessions that were put on by PC and guests (K-13s and some international organization guests).

We had TEFL sessions, grant writing sessions, advanced language lessons, and culture sessions. Overall, my favorite was the language lessons. PC had brought in many of the LCFs (Language and Cultural Facilitators) from PST to run our language lessons. It felt really good to have a group of language teachers who are used to teaching native English speakers and have a better knowledge than most as to how English speakers learn Kyrgyz or Russian respectively.

Overall, the IST training sessions were very well ran and passed on loads of information to us to take back to our sites and put to use. I loved theses sessions for the information they gave us, but also because many of them were very open and informal and allowed us to share our accomplishments and struggles. I loved the sessions like this; in many ways they work as inspiration to hear how other volunteers have succeeded and to know that other volunteers are dealing with the same problems.

Then when the sessions became a bit more formal and guests came into speak, I became even more inspired when they would pass on new tips, ideas, and stories of success. In all, I left IST feeling very confident about my trip back to site and the plans I have made for the remainder of my time here. IST was great; it felt really good to see everyone in my group and the training was very helpful. I had a great time in Bishkek, but I missed my village and host-family, so it feels good to be back at site.


January 19, 2007

10:00 AM

I recently received an email from a Peace Corps invitee to Mongolia by the name of Joshua Shapero. In response to one of my first conversations with Fiona, he quoted Fiona and then wrote to me:

Fiona:
"You must realize my young tangible friend that it may appear that the world functions on a selfish order; but you need to look not where the shade lies, but where the shade was created. Look beyond the beauty of the object being outlined and find the source of the light. It is here where you will find your vehicle for understanding."

I can't tell you the luminescence with which these words resonated within me calling up shades of experience, understanding and feeling which I've somehow alienated myself to in the time between applying to PC and waiting to find out where I'm going. It echoed in me in the same way as the words of Milorad Pavic about the artists who draw not the outline of objects but the outlines of space left behind by objects... I must say, I had tears in my eyes reading these words. And suddenly I'm re-aware of many things and I feel much less concerned about the decision. I still have not made up my mind, but I feel that the most important thing is this vision that resides in me... or in which I reside... and that it permeates all of existence... what does it matter where I go then?


As always Fiona was reading this email over my shoulders, which lead to a great conversation between us two:

Fiona: “Jason, do you think Joshua, or anyone else on this planet, has a course predetermined for them when they are born?”

Me: “I honestly don’t know. I mean, sometimes I would like to believe that things happen for a reason, but to believe that our entire life is already planned for us kind of sounds like we are mundane creatures stumbling along a path we can never change.”

Fiona: “Do you think you are mundane?”

Me: “In comparison to the world that exists beyond my realm of understanding, yes. But I like to think that at some point my actions or decisions are my own.”

Fiona: “They are always yours if you choose them to be. Think about is this way: every living thing is heading for a destination. There is direction and purpose to where we are all going. Many living creatures have a seemingly simple path to follow for satisfaction, while it may appear that others have a battle in front of them to reach happiness. But where many humans go wrong is thinking that they must fight a battle to reach inner peace. Many times, the most obvious and mundane path chosen is the most rewarding and beneficial. I don’t think for you, or our new friend Joshua, that your decisions have to be made in struggle. Your direction will come in the form that you allow yourself to see it. If you want your future to be a battle, then it will be. If you want you your future to take the simple and most obvious path, then you can. You may or may not have a predetermined future; nonetheless, the way you get to your destination is entirely up to the way you choose to see it. See not what seems right, see what feels right. Do not what looks right, do what can be right.”

Me: “Is Joshua’s destination different from mine?”

Fiona: “Joshua’s destination, and everyone else’s in this world, is unknown to most. If we all knew our destinations at birth, our lives would never really exist. Our role on this planet is to search out that which we believe is our destination. If Joshua believes one of his stops on his way towards his destination is Mongolia, then he should go there. But that does not mean that Mongolia, or any other stop he or you may choose, will lead to your destination. You may never find your destination in this life. But you must believe that you can and will. The life you lead now may be your only one you ever get; or you may be living just one rung of a very long ladder. Which ever it may be, you must believe in what you are doing and do it. Trust yourself and go.”