The Amazing Adventures of Kyrgyzstan and Col

Chapter Two: I just waited 20 minutes to post this...

16 December 2005

I think posting from most recent date first is best. I'm in Karakol this afternoon with C-Belle. We have a plan to hit up Zum and check out the basement's supply of fishing gear. I don't think we could get any cooler.

15 December 2005

I finished Holidays on Ice. I take it back. Sedaris’ imagination is more messed up than it is awesome. The first chapter was by far the most hilarious. Dead babies in dryers and the theme of “Christmas means giving until it bleeds,” are not, on the other hand, my cup of tea.

But you know what is? Black tea. I’m still a coffee girl, black, no cream, no sugar, but tea has really been a nice substitute for the time being. I brought a French-press and a bag of hazelnut grinds from home, but that will only last me so long.

I finally sat down and read the World Series magazine my parents sent me. I have to admit, it brought tears to my eyes at 2:30 this afternoon. I don’t know what it is about baseball, but I love it. I pretty much love everything about it. Even the designated hitter.

I wrote three e-mails today to three good people. Well one of them was to five people, but collectively those five make an amazing person. I’ll leave it at that.

“As pretty as a song, a song could ever be, like Christmas in the river, without a bow or Christmas tree, this afternoon with you was something like a letter, the kind that someone writes but never sends, and when you look at me like that, I know someday it’s gonna end, and when you get old, I bet you miss your friends.”
-- Ryan Adams “Friends” --11 December 2005

14 December 2005

I passed out last night around 6 PM. I woke up at 11 and thought it was the new day. When I got home from school, I had the worst headache ever, so like all chemically dependent Americans, I downed 2 extra-strength Tylenols, Target brand, 1 Benadryl and began to read some Dostoevsky. Within 20 minutes I was out.

When I woke up for good this morning, my Apa told me that she knocked on my door for tea around 8. All I know for sure was that I woke up starving and ate a load of potatoes. There’s nothing quite like a Kyrgyz meal during winter. Meat and potatoes. Then some more meat and potatoes. Some pasta, and then more potatoes.

When I was getting dressed this morning, I looked at my closet door and saw my Advent calendar, quickly remembering that during my haze, I forgot to open yesterday’s box. I don’t know what it is, but getting to open two boxes is somehow better than one. Even without chocolate. No matter how old you are.

I always think “Narrow Escape” by Ray LaMontagne is Ryan Adams when it first comes on. Always.

Against my Apa’s orders I went to school today. The children need me. Well, that’s what I tell myself anyway. I was feeling fine really, but that didn’t stop the herd of teachers from coming up to me throughout the day, asking about my health. The Kyrgyz think tea solves everything. I’ve had about ten cups today.

Wednesdays are my roughest days. Yesterday I was in the crankiest mood ever that I actually had to take a time-out and pray to God to calm me down and give me patience. It worked. When I went to school this morning, I was determined to remain optimistic and an enthusiastic teacher. Because who wants to sit in a class with a lame-ass teacher? It wasn’t really my fault that yesterday sucked so much. One of the younger teachers must have asked me for 4 favors within 3 hours. I realize I’m here as a volunteer, and by definition, according to my Microsoft Word dictionary, a volunteer is somebody who does something, especially something undesirable, without being forced to do it; however, on a day when I felt like crap, was working in a icebox, and students were knocking on my door every 5 seconds and asking me over and over again whether they could come in and touch everything I had in the room, those 4 favors were a lot to ask. And that was only Tuesday. But today, Wednesday, things went well. Until I looked at my schedule in the teachers’ lounge and realized I have exactly the same amount of classes tomorrow.

I started reading David Sedaris’ Holiday on Ice during my break this afternoon. That’s some good stuff. One of the K-12s lent me his Sedaris collection. I plan to keep it indefinitely.

“I had two people say that to me today, “I’m going to have you fired.” Go ahead, be my guest. I’m wearing a green velvet costume; it doesn’t get any worse than this. Who do these people think they are?” (34).

The power went out about 10 minutes ago. I am fairly certain it was my fault. I was distilling water and warming my room with not only my PC heater, but the extra one my host-family left in my room. Oops. When I unplugged one of the heaters, the power came back.I spent the weekend in Kyzyl Cyy doing things with the other PCVs. Officially, we were conducting “a warden weekend,” gathering each other’s information, and doing other responsible stuff. I like Kyzyl Cyy. It seems bigger than Jety Oguz, but not in a bad way. They have two bazaars. We have none. We had dinner at a café, and as far as I know, we don’t have one of those either.

I’m in a village that’s small enough to give you the feel that once you spend enough time here, you’ll feel like you belong to a large family. I’m also close enough to the bigger city, so that if I need to escape, check my e-mail, buy something clutch, I’m taken care of. Being the only volunteer in my village, and the second one ever, depending on how you look at it, I’m lucky as well. I get to sort of pave my way.

When my time is up here, I hope to look back and see the road I’m making. I imagine it to be quite curvy with some detours, but from one end, the other end can still be seen. I have visions. I have goals.

One of the Karakol volunteers made fun of me because I said that I didn’t want to give grades or homework. He said something like, “Ahh, I can see it’s all about the kids.” I understand what he’s saying; it’s just that grades don’t really reflect anything, especially if in the end they’re changed anyway. And as far as homework goes, a lot of these kids wont do it, and if they do, it’s probably going to be wrong. I’d then have to spend the next class going over the homework, and these classes are short enough as it is. If someone says something, maybe I’ll look into it, but I like my style. Granted it’s new, but I like it. Right now I am more concerned with learning the names and faces of my students and where they stand in terms of their English levels. Once I have these down, then I’ll expand my lesson plans. I think I’ll write up a test and make them do a fill-in-the-blank type thing. I always liked that stuff. Wait, or did I hate it? I can’t recall.

13 December 2005

Last night I read The Alchemist instead of watching the film. That book is amazing. C-Belle lent it to me and said it was the deciding factor in her pursuit to join the Peace Corps. I wish I had read it in Spanish first. Some things are just better that way. To me, Spanish is poetry.

“But the sheep had taught him something more important: that there was a language in the world that everyone understood, a language the boy had used throughout the time he was trying to improve things at the shop. It was the language of enthusiasm, of things accomplished with love and purpose, and as part of a search for something believed in and desired. Tangier was no longer a strange city, and he felt that, just as he had conquered this place, he could conquer the world” (75).

“He still had some doubts about the decision he had made. But he was able to understand one thing: making a decision was only the beginning of things. When someone makes a decision, he is really diving into a strong current that will carry him to places he had never dreamed of when he first made the decision” (82).

“He watched the hawks as they drifted on the wind. Although their flight appeared to have no pattern, it made a certain kind of sense to the boy. It was just that he couldn’t grasp what it meant. He followed the movement of the birds, trying to read something into it. Maybe these desert birds could explain to him the meaning of love without ownership” (119).

“You old sorcerer,” the boy shouted up to the sky, “You knew the whole story. You even left a bit of gold at the monastery so I could get back to the church. The monk laughed when he saw me come back in taters. Couldn’t you have saved me from that?”
“No,” he heard a voice say. “If I had told you, you wouldn’t have seen the Pyramids. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” (197)

Between my 9th A and 3rd G class, I came home and watched Kill Bill V. 2. Quentin Tarantino can really make an amazingly f-ed up movie.
12 December 2005

Today I got up and was supposed to teach three classes. I taught my first one, and then another teacher asked me to cover for her, so I did. My counter-part walked in halfway. I silently rejoiced, knowing that I’ll finally have one of those, too. After that class, and a short tea break, I taught my 7th graders and was ready to teach my 8th graders, but no one showed up. Turned out, today was duty-day, meaning the boys got to go home and the girls had to stay to mop the halls and clean their classroom. No one told me. I was sort of pissed because I had planned this whole lesson on “The Avian Bird Flu,” but I only have the 8th graders once a week, so it looks like that’ll have to wait for another 7 days. Luckily, I got to teach it to my 5a and 7v class. It went well. I don’t think they quite understood the severity of the situation if the virus spreads between humans. I didn’t want to scare them or anything, but we were warned by PC to take care of ourselves, and part of that is making sure my students don’t come to class ill. I told them to do things like wash their hands frequently, cook their eggs and chicken thoroughly, and not to play or sleep in the chicken coup. It sounds like I’m joking, but many of the families make their money off of poultry and other various agricultural products, so the possibilities exist. I just hope they don’t run home and tell their parents that the American told them to slaughter all their animals. For the record, I told them to do the exact things I plan on doing, which I hope are the exact same things all of you plan to do, regardless of where on this crazy planet you are now.

I think we all should read Albert Camus’ The Plague again if anything does happen. Death is inevitable. Relax. Do something about it. Or not.

After school, I was bombarded with about 15 11th grade girls, asking me all sorts of questions off-campus. It was the best mix of English-Kyrgyz ever. I’m coining it Englyz. Wait, that sounds too much like English. Maybe Kyrglish is better. Any takers?

So after 20-Questions, I made my way to the local post office to check my mail. Before I got to the door, one of the postal ladies stopped me and asked me if I had my passport. Damn. Back home. She told me to bring it tomorrow, I guess for logistical reasons. Fine by me. So yeah, no letters or anything. I have to get on that and write some more.

But I have Kill Bill Volume II. The letters will have to wait.

Oh, and I got text messages from two people. Only one of you signed your name. And as far as the other dude, I’m pretty sure it was Smoot. “There is snow here, but players and catchers report on Feb. 14th!!! That’s soon!!” If I’m wrong, sorry. But who else would text me ½ around the world just to tell me:

A) There is snow
B) Baseball’s preseason is starting in two months

?

Just remember, if you bother to send me a text, know that I can’t text you back, but I am getting them. And they’re free. Hit me up. Sign your name, bi-otch.

posted by C @ 1:17 PM