Monday, July 09, 2007

Embrace the Chaos

***Note: If you have a growing attachment to the pictures on my flickr site, I suggest you copy them and save them onto a folder on your computer. I have reached the max for free postings (200) and I will slowly begin to delete chunks of pictures from earlier postings as I post more recent photos.***

June 8, 2007

9:00 AM

“So easy to love a place on the day you’re leaving.” – Craig Thompson

“Love it while you have it and leaving it won’t be so hard.” – Fiona

June 8, 2007

12:00 PM

I arrived in Osh city a few days ago and for the first time in a long while, I really felt like a tourist. I have done enough traveling around the lake and between the lake and Bishkek to feel at home there. I feel like I belong in my village, despite the obvious standout appearance (long hair, beard, blond hair, blue eyes, etc.).

I know my surroundings and I have learned to understand and expect a certain way of life on the lake. Arriving in Osh, I was immediately struck by something new. The immediate images were not entirely different, but in my head I knew that I had just flown over three or four mountain ranges. I knew stepping off the plane that I had just lifted off from a place I knew well and landed in a place I knew nothing about.

It was about at this point that I gladly welcomed back the invigorating feeling of traveling.

First arriving in country I was overwhelmed with life. Everything was new and different. I arrived wide-eyed and open-minded ready to take on the world. Everything I saw and experienced was soaked up knowing that it all was part of my new life. Nothing was shocking, but everything was new. A bottle of Fanta looked and tasted exactly the same as it did back home; but because it was a cold beverage in a new, hot, home for me, it was exciting.

Slowly as my life has progressed here, I began to settle in and lose the initial excitement. The wonder and excitement of my new home has refocused itself as my job. I know that every day, especially as my language progresses, I still learn and explore more about this new culture I live in. But I also know that my job here is not to just experience and enjoy without attachment. I must do so while also working and helping.

Sounds chessy or cliché, but that is what I am doing here. For so long the idea of giving all I have to help had been a mentality, an approach to life. Coming here, “giving all,” became my job. Every experience in my village is a way for me to help and learn: from a family friend receiving a fake winning sweepstakes email in English and translating it for him and breaking the news to him that it is a ploy to translating and checking up on the authenticity of medicine from China (written in English).

It is all part of my Peace Corpsish life.

Ever since I reached this point in my village the “exploring for the sake of exploring” mentality has left me a bit. My desire to need more is ever present, but the desire to explore for the unknown for exploration’s sake has faded a bit since I have been here.

Arriving down south here has brought the explorer feeling rushing back to me. From the moment I jumped in a taxi to travel from the airport into the center of Osh I saw and felt a new life and culture. In the north we have a Kyrgyz/Russian mix (in both culture and people). In the south, the mix is Kyrgyz/Uzbek.

Listening to the taxi driver quickly made me feel like I was somewhere new. The language has a different feel to it down here. In the north we use a lot of Russian vocab mixed in with Kyrgyz. Down here, the Uzbek vocab, accent, and dialect seem to replace the Russian feel that Kyrgyz has up north. There is also a heavy influence of Uzbek culture down here; from the foods and eating rituals to the clothing and greetings, the Uzbek influence is distinctly felt down here.

While being down here I have visited some popular sites (Suleiman’s Mountain, Arslanbob, and Jalalbad). By and large, though, the best moments have come visiting other volunteers in their sites. Visiting different villages and families where volunteers live down here has been the most rewarding part of my trip. Getting a brief glimpse into the life of other volunteers and the way they live has been inspiring.

Sometimes living and working in one small village can get frustrating and monotonous. It sounds weird to say this, but it’s true. Sometimes living in a small village in the tiny Central Asian country of Kyrgyzstan can be repetitious and stagnant. Inspiration can sometimes be hard to come by when frustrations shadow is looming over everything. At times the shadow can appear to be engulfing; inescapable clouds blocking the sun. The key to my life here has been understanding that it’s only the shadow of a cloud. It will pass; or if needed, I can always just go for a walk to get out from under it.

I may have not entirely known it, but something in me told me that I needed to step out of the shadow. The shadow was not overwhelming by any means, but it surely was making life frustrating in my village. Whatever is was in me that told me I needed to get out of my village, out of my Oblast, knew my senses needed the stir of something new.

Somewhere in the balance of finding the love I wish to spend the rest of my life with and the joy of summer’s weather arriving, my body knew it needed inspiration from somewhere else. I needed to get away from the complacent anchor of happiness. I needed to feel uncomfortable and odd again.

My trip down south has helped me do just that. I came down here with the intention of discussing future plans and projects with some of my closer volunteer friends. Like I said before, though, my body and mind (and also Fiona) sent me down here for other reasons beyond my knowledge.

The south of Kyrgyzstan really is a different world. The mountain ranges I flew over to get down here split the South and the North. It is very obvious that life here looks and feels like someone split Kyrgyzstan in two. It would be tedious and nitpicky to go through all of the differences. They simply need to be felt. And they were. Whether it is the dynamic of volunteers or the slightly different cuisine; or whether or not it just because it is something new, my senses have loved the past week.

I have become inspired by the struggles and accomplishments of other volunteers down here. There is only so much that can be discussed through text messaging and random volunteer training gatherings. Actually getting out and seeing the lives of friends has brought random discussion topics into the reality of images. Eyes can deceive, but when all five senses are lit up and churning, the body can rarely be fooled.

I know this posting is jumbled, but it is what just came out in response to my time here down south.

June 20, 2007

11:00 AM

One year in Kyrgyzstan will be arriving in about three weeks. With the approaching arrival of this date I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. Not that I think I need a benchmark where I should start to think, but it has come on in large waves lately.

With summer in full swing here and regular scheduled classes at school completed, my time has opened up a bit. I have some plans for my time: mainly preparing for next school year, taking care of my garden, running, reading, and writing. All things that I need this free time for and greatly appreciate it.

But like most of life here, I don’t think I can give my free time the usual tag of “free.” It would be better to say that my time is a bit more flexible now that summer is here. That being said, the freedom of the weather and my schedule has allowed my mind to wander a bit in the past week or so.

I have taken a step back to look at what I have done since being here, who I have become, and who I still am. The first part was easy in a bulleted point type of way. But overall my mind has naturally stepped away the bulleted (APL style) breakdown of my past year.

I came here with the intent of challenging myself; the challenge of learning a new language, a new culture, and essentially a new life. I also came here to challenge myself to see who I could become and what I could retain of who I was. Leaving my family, friends, and comforts has been just as tearing and twisting as learning to live in my new life here.

I knew that coming here I would change, and that was the challenge I was looking for. I have changed, in some good and bad ways. Overall my usual positive approach and non-judgmental outlook towards life has taken the biggest hit. For the first time in my life, I do believe that I witnessed my descent into negativity and had little control over it. My will power was just not as strong as it needed to be.

The point I am at right now is that I believe I have regained some control of my will power and have begun to trudge out of the negativity. It is hard. I have spent many of days walking back from school with the thought in my head: “how can I help you all if you don’t want to help yourselves?”

I hate that I think that; it is a product of living and working. In my case, I sometimes feel as if I am trying to redirect the Mississippi River into an East to West river. Using a sand shovel. When this sentiment has come over me I allowed it to invade my thoughts and sometimes deter my work here.

I am not proud of it, but it has been part of my growth here. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to work here, and it will never be easy. What I need to do is get back to who I was, in some ways. In many ways my growth cannot and should not be reversed. I have learned first hand the joys and pains of experiencing a new culture. I have had my sensitivity lenses tested on full.

The toughest thing is that while my mind was being tested, I lost control of my calmness in other aspects of life. I caught myself judging people for little things, much out of character of who I pride myself as being. I would judge people for differences and things I didn’t approve of, but for all intensive purposes had no right judging.

I guess the best thing I can say now is that I have noticed it and I have begun to consciously try and return back to who I pride myself on being. I let the strains of life here get to me and I am glad that I have caught it before I lost control of it. I pride myself on being able to critically see life, while also being able to move with life’s natural flow. I need to find my way back to my center.

Once I find that, I can then take the lessons I have learned over the past year and use them grow. Only then can I say that I have found my way back to who I know I am; to who I need to be.

June 21, 2007

7:45 PM

Around the time that I was entering my junior year in college I started to think heavily about the cycles of life. I don’t mean on the grand scale, I mean on the individual level; the periods of our lives that we seem to cycle through as we grow.

I guess the major reason I began thinking this was that I had a heavy belief that my life was on a very simple cycle of tough, terrific, tough, terrific, etc.. That is very simplified of course, but that is what I narrowed it down to. I started back in my youth when I didn’t know better, and collected a mental catalogue of the momentous moments in my life.

Overall, the worse moments stood out a bit more because they left the biggest impact (in good and bad ways). I took the most out of the worse moments in my youth and learned from them; though, I had no idea I did so until much later on in life. Every mountain was followed by a valley, and it felt like it kept a steady course that way. I pretty much accepted that that was the way of life and I just had to be prepared to deal with the valleys when they came.

What I didn’t know then, and what I am starting wonder now, is that if preparing for the valleys can actual keep life for me in overall positive manner. I look back on the past three years and I have experienced some of the toughest things I have ever had to deal with. Still, the earlier years stick out more.

In high school I remember crying in the corner of the library for an entire lunch period during my freshman year. The main reason: I felt as if I didn’t fit in. I was parting from a group of friends I had had my whole life without any where to go. Eventually, I found my way into a group of friends that I love to this day and thank them everyday (even though they may not know it) for being there when I needed it most.

But those tears shed in the library were nothing. Sure, high school can be a rough time, but in the end the problems are miniscule and when met with the right help (good parents and friends), they are but a scrape on the elbow.

Fast forward nine years and you will find me driving down 88 East crying so much I couldn’t see the road at points. When I got on the highway I was intending to head home, but eventually I ended up finding my way to the kitchen of one of my second-set of parents. The lid had just been broken on years of bottled up problems my parents were having. All of the worst words that surface during marital problems were tossed out and they stung. Each time the worst thoughts would cross my mind I would feel the sting trickle down my throat from my mind and choke me into moments of blank tears.

Oddly enough, though, the pain never felt as bad as that day in the library. Honestly. After having a year to think over a lot of it, I look back on the week or so when things got really bad. It never really felt like I fell into a valley and had to climb out. It felt more like a necessary bridge I had to cross.

I have thought a lot about this over the past year and have found myself with one thought that I trust: if in the right mindset, even the worst of life can be met head on. I have wondered a lot why the lingering pain between the two events varies so much. In the heat of both events, my mind was a mess. I faded into thought, cried myself dry, and hit moments when I wondered if they were really happening.

As I sit here typing this now, I know that one of the toughest periods of my life to date was very necessary. I don’t think I will ever be entirely ready for all of life’s dark rivers. But I have an overwhelming feeling inside me now that trusts my footing when crossing those rivers. I am beginning to understand the necessity of life’s faults. The beauty behind the ugly is beginning flower out.

I no longer really think life is full of mountains and valleys. That image to me seems much too drastic and ordered. I have changed my mural to a sunset rising behind clouds made of the people I love, and the people I hate.

June 21, 2007

8:30 PM

My new mantra for life:

Embrace the Chaos.

July 7, 2007

8:40 AM

Ok, I will begin by apologizing. The summer so far has been crazy; packed full of English clubs, caring for a garden and a summer camp. I apologize for not posting for the past month and for not writing for the past few weeks. I am apologizing to all who read this blog and to myself. I need this writing. It helps me find thoughts and clear out issues in my head. Being busy is no excuse to not write, I need to make time.

I guess I can start recovering time by simply explaining the past few weeks. Basically for the past two weeks I have been preparing and helping to run a summer camp for about 45 students in Karakol (a beautiful city on the east end of the lake). The camp’s main theme was Leadership and Gender Development and was open to students entering grades ninth through eleventh.

The camp was five very packed days of lessons (Leadership, Safe-Sex, Friendship, Nutrition, Hygiene, etc.), sports (Soccer, Football, Ultimate Frisbee), and activities (Tie-Dye, Talent Show). While the overall theme kept on target with Leadership and Gender Development, the overriding goal of the entire camp aimed at providing a week for the students at the camp to grow, to learn through lessons and activities they usually cannot get in their villages.

In so many ways that camp was an incredible success. The usual issues that come up during large events like this occurred, but overall this camp was organized (by Amy) and ran very smoothly and the students loved it. I had an incredible time working at the camp. Having a collection of twenty or so volunteers gathered for a week is a great way to get a lot of good work done while also having some good fun. By and large, though, my favorite part of the camp was the students (surprise, surprise).

The students at the camp were from a few villages around the lake. I invited eight of my students to attend the camp and students also came from three other villages and also from within Karakol. The balance of village students and city students (Karakol) provided an interesting dynamic. All of the students were split up in groups (five total) and each group had two counselors. All of the groups were split up so that they would have boys and girls from all different parts of the lake. My group (our name was Nine Stars and a Sun) was a nice balance of a few city students and a few village students.

What I loved most about the students at the camp was simply seeing the students open up. Seeing their eyes lit up during activities and hearing them talk about the lessons in the hallways after they were finished was invigorating. I loved making a connection with the kids and overall I loved being able to see some of the results of our work right in front of me. It doesn’t happen to often here to get a chance to see the growth of students over a straight five-day span.

July 10, 2007

One year in country.