Before Man, There Were...

February 7, 2007

7:15 AM

I recently had the opportunity to watch the final of a basketball tournament at my school the other day. There was a boys and girls final. Each game was played with two fifteen minutes halves. The teams were separated early on in the beginning of the tournament by classes (i.e. 9-A, 9-Б, 10-A, 10-Б, etc.). During the final on Monday, there was a very popular high school phenomenon that was brought to light for the first time since I had been working at the school: student pride.

It may sound weird, but school is just one in many aspects to life here. School here is only half the day. By 1:00 PM, all of the upper grades are home and starting their work around the house. There are not many after school events for students to gather at my school. They don’t have the opportunities I had to gather with my class of five hundred students and start a “Seniors, Seniors” chant. It may sound cheesy, but that was a huge part of my high school career: class and student pride.

There are no sports teams at my school and certainly no pep rallies. So when I showed up to the activazal (activity room) to watch the basketball championship I had been invited to, I had no idea what to expect. Approaching the gymnasium, I started to hear chants of “Tow-Goss-Bu, Tow-Goss-Bu” (nine in Kyrgyz is towgoss—тогос; Б is pronounced “Bu.”). A huge smile came across my face.

Entering the tiny gym (you Forest Elementary School folk, think of the gym we had, but with only two basketball hoops), my smile grew even bigger. Students lined every wall except for the walls under the net. The boys final was being played between 9-Б and 11-A. In the tiny gym they stuffed as many people as could fit to watch ten boys get their game on.

Some boys were in warm-up pants and t-shirts; others were in dress pants and sweaters. There were no uniforms, many of them had just brought a change of shoes to school that day and then played in what they wore to classes in the morning (all students are required to dress up for school; they have uniforms, but most students after 8th form don’t usually wear them and instead just dress nicely).

The boys’ game ended with a champion (11-A won) and then the girls’ championship started up right away. This final featured an inter-class battle with 10-A going up against 10-Б. Like the majority of high school boys, the boys stayed around for the girls game, but we not as loud and cheerful. The girls’ game was just as exciting as the boys, and the girls that weren’t playing made up for the boys’ lack of cheering.

Overall, the afternoon was pretty fun and it felt good to see many of my students in a new light, and new role other than English students. I tend to gain different forms of respect for my students when I am able to see them at work in different parts of their lives. When I see students working at home, playing futbol or basketball, or dancing during a school celebration (i.e. New Years), it humbles me a bit. It keeps the realization in my head that my students have a lot of others roles and responsibilities in their lives. I gain all new forms of respect for them when I see them out of the English classroom. After-school events are good for me and them.


February 8, 2007

7:00 AM

Last night I had a very disturbing conversation with my host parents. Sezim, my cuteness-award winning sister, is probably going to go spend the next few months with my host father’s brother and wife at the farm in the mountains. I was crushed. I heard them talk about it a bit before, but I didn’t know that they were for real.

The reasoning basically came down to having only one person working in our family during the winter and that is just not bringing in enough money for them. My host mother, Gulnara, and host father, Juzbai, have decided that they need Gulnara to go back to work at the school (she works as an Art Teacher).

But unlike when my mom went back to work after brining me into this world, there are no day-care schools in my village. Sunshine Daycare does not exist here. If Gulnara is to go back to work, she needs to find someone to watch Sezim. There is the family we have across the street from us (another brother of my host father and his wife), but they also have a baby (boy) and also have to take care of Апа (Apa, which means mother; she is the mother to all of these brothers).

Then add in the situation the family on the farm has to deal with. They have a fourteen year-old daughter who cannot not live with them. She cannot live with them because the family farm is out in the middle of the mountains; which basically means there are no schools out there. So she lives with another brother and his wife in Балыкчы (Balykchy), where she attends school.

I have heard repeatedly from Gulnara that the couple on the farm misses their daughter and that they have asked Gulnara if they could watch Sezim for a while. Initially, Gulnara and Juzbai resisted, but recently they have changed their attitude towards the situation. Gulnara came straight out and said last night that she hates spending entire days at home caring for Sezim, cleaning the house and clothes, and making food. She wants to get out of the house. She wants to work.

I think now that Juzbai and Gulnara have realized that they will need some more money to get through the winter, it will be necessary for Gulnara to go back to work. I feel really helpless in the situation. Sure, I could offer to help with money, but that is not what I am here to do. I am not a rich American, and the last thing they need to be doing is relying entirely on my money.

Nonetheless, it is still tough to be an outsider on situations like this. I don’t want to see Sezim go away for a few months. I love my little sister, just as I have grown to love my entire host family. But there are too many factors here that point to life working out a bit better for the family if Sezim heads to the family farm in the mountains. Sure, it is only a forty-five minute car drive away; but that means my host parents (and I) may only get to see her on Sundays if we decide to take a trip to the farm.

I was nearly brought to tears, and held back with all my might, last night after we were talking about this and I caught Gulnara holding Sezim and just looking at her, playing with her hair. She held a look of someone who has been forced to face the reality of her situation. There is no way she wants to give up her daughter, not for any period of time. I would be stretched to find any mother on this planet who could give up a child for a few months. But then Gulnara is hit with another dilemma, she has two other children who also need to be cared for. Two other children that need to eat, need clothes, and would like to eventually attend University.

I am choked up right now writing this. This sounds like such a simple situation, but this seems to be hitting me very, very hard. I am suddenly acutely aware of the challenges faced by parenthood, the pain and joy of life found in the raising of children. So many people around this world are forced to make decisions that they have little control over. My host family’s situation is tame compared to so many others around the world. Parenthood, motherhood, fatherhood; they such beautiful things that inevitably are filled with many, many tough decisions.

My parents were very proud of my decisions to join Peace Corps and eventually move my entire life to the other side of the planet. But I know it couldn’t have been easy. The son they watched grow up for twenty-three years made a decision to go discover himself, and do so for two years in Central Asia. Our goodbye at the airport was a very brief one, to not allow for either side of the departure to struggle too much. My parents watched me leave, and I know there was a part of them that walked through those sliding doors of the airport that morning.

I understand it now more that I ever had. I don’t know where it came from, but suddenly I am more aware of the love, joy, pain, and struggles that are involved with parenthood. Another recent piece of news I received from back home has also brought to the surface the realization of parenthood. One of my many bosses and friends at Aurora University recently received news of the death of her son. Her son had been struggling with his health for a while, and before I left, seemed to be improving and doing much better.

But in a very sad turn of events, her son recently took a journey to the next world. While I was struck by the sadness of the death, I was hit very hard by the pain I know the mother is now dealing with from the loss of her son. There is not much consoling that can be done in a situation like this. I would have no idea where to start. I could never imagine losing a son. It has been said many times before me, but is just seems right to say now, “a parent should never have to bury their child.” I have passed on many prayers to my friend at AU and her son; and right now I am truly at loss how else I could help.

There are so many struggles and challenges that come with parenthood. Thank you, to all of you. You are an inspiration to me; all parents, mine, my host family, my friend at AU, or the rest that span the globe, thank you to you all. I respect you all, all of you that dedicate your lives to creating a better life for your children. Thank you.


February 8, 2007

9:20 AM

The Others

Do you think they watch us?
The others we cannot see.
Do you think we see them?
The others we see, but don’t understand.

I feel them sometimes,
checking up on me.
They want to make sure,
they want to help us.
I know they cannot.
They know they cannot

Do you think we know them?
The others we do not know.
Do you think they know us?
The others we know, but don’t understand.

JAL


February 9, 2007

10:15 PM


Fiona: What do you see when you look at the stars?

Me: The beautiful unknown.

Fiona: But everything that you can see with the naked eye is known in our universe. What you see is the same sky that Galileo saw. What is it that you see that you believe to be beautiful and unknown?

Me: The unknown is the beautiful part to me. When I look up into the sky, I am always hit with the realization of where I am. My head runs through the scientific part knowing that I am standing on a planet that revolves around a simple star, a star that exists in the arm of just one galaxy of millions. I then also travel through that fantastical possibilities of what I am looking at, knowing how much could and probably is out there in the depths of what we cannot yet see or discover. I love when I hear facts about the Amazon Rainforest and the amount of new species discovered in there each day. I love the unknown of the universe in the same way. I love knowing that there are things that we as humans still do not know. I love that there is knowledge that the human race has not yet discovered. It’s a reminder that we are simple creatures living in a reality that is much bigger than we may ever understand.

Fiona: The Amazon Rainforest still exists?

Me: Yeah, I think so; I haven’t seen a satellite shot of it in a few hours, I’ll check back in a little bit.

Fiona: Do you think there are answers in the unknown?

Me: I think that part of the unknown hold answers to the spiritual and physical world that we do not understand. But I also think that the beautiful part about the unknown is that much of it will never be uncovered.

Fiona: Would I be correct is assuming that you believe part of the unknown to be the carrot for all you ‘donkeys’ that roam the blue earth?

Me: Kind of, I don’t particularly like donkeys, but yeah, the mental image fairly right. There will always be a part of the unknown unobtainable. I will stick to this belief steadfast and true. There are parts of reality and the world beyond reality that humankind will never know. I love that. It’s what keeps me striving to find more, because I always know that there is more, some where.

Fiona: What do you have against donkeys? I think they are cute and get a bad rap. You are just mad that you don’t have any donkey friends.

Me: You would think donkeys are cute. I bet you also like their screaming hee-haw.

Fiona: You don’t?

Me: You suck, go to bed.

Fiona: I suck? You’re the one talking to a flower.

Me: True, maybe it’s time for me to go to bed.



February 10, 2007

5:40 AM


The moon is out.

The clouds are thick.

My coffee tastes

like chocolate.


A glass of wine

would be nice, but

the moon is out,

the sun is comin’.



Febrero de 2007

8:30 AM


Rippity tat, titity tat.
A rhythm is this,
a rhythm is that.
A rhythm is bliss.