The Amazing Adventures of Kyrgyzstan and Col

Chapter Four: Spotlight on Christmas

2 January 2006

I came into town this morning to check my e-mail, send some out, take a much needed banya and to try and find J. The cell phone service in the county this weekend has been crap, so all attempts to reach her and invite her to the post-New Year lunch celebration at my home were utter failures. If I can manage to locate her before noon, I’ll consider myself a success.

There’s a reason I didn’t go into too much detail in terms of Christmas and New Year’s. Actually, I just re-read everything, and even though my writing kind of sucks, I did a pretty good job, but there’s more. Since I never got a chance to complete my “Month of October,” I’ve decided to lump those 31 days into just Halloween and then combine the major American holidays up to today and do an “Ode to Holidays in Kyrgyzstan” type thing. Hold tight. It might be interesting. Might not. It might just be pictures.

1 January 2006

Authentic


Wow, it’s 2006. I got a text message that toasted to “rabid dogs, open manholes and crappy firecrackers.” Including friendly people, that pretty much sums Kyrgyzstan up. Happy New Year, everyone.

At midnight, I had to give a toast over champagne. I think I mumbled something along the lines of, “To giving toasts in English and the hope that maybe next year I’ll be speaking in Kyrgyz.” It was short and sweet, and then I was quickly ushered out of the house to help set off firecrackers. For someone who’d much rather watch than participate in this specific event, it was kinda fun, even if I feared losing a limb the entire time.

Before the final countdown, my “siblings” made me bundle up and go outside for and I quote, “a walk.” Ignorantly and enthusiastically I acquiesced, following the clan of three. Next thing I know, I’m being shoved down onto a miniature sleigh and pulled rather swiftly on the snow-covered path, around the block, over the bridge and then down the hill. I really don’t’ care that I was hanging out with an 11-year-old and the neighborhood kids either. It was so fun. I can’t remember the last time I went for an authentic sleigh ride.

Today was spent entertaining my ata’s family members and eating horse meat. It was delicious, and I didn’t have any issues whatsoever about eating Seabiscuit.

When the party ended, we all helped clean things up, but the boys, being boys, managed to knock over the tree and break two ornaments. I was just walking out of my room when it happened, and glancing at my apa’s face, I could tell she was waiting to get angry with them but it was a bit ackward with me being in the line if fire. I took her steadfast glare as a hint to very obviously retreat back into my sanctuary. She then let loose. I guess it was nice to at least hear her express any emotion other than sheer joy. She’s an incredible person, and it’s hard not to be happy with her around. I was beginning to doubt whether she was real or not, but thank God, she took care of that. My worries are now flushed, or I should say, thrown down the outhouse hole.

31 December 2005

It’s New Years’ Eve, and I’ve been in my pajamas for the entire day. It’s been marvelous. I decided to stay in Jety Oguz for the celebration and really soak it all in as authentically as I can.

I helped make borsock and some other bread creation. It’s hard to believe that bread only reached Kyrgyz tables in the 19th century. I’ve been oddly thirsty the whole day. And now I have a sore throat.

I watched Seabiscuit with the family this afternoon in English. After that, they made me sit in front of the television all day, watching Russian singers try to sound good. All I wanted to do was finished this Christopher Buckley novel, but I kept getting interrupted and dragged back into my host family’s social scene.

This is the first night in four days where we’re not leaving the house to go eat vast amounts of food at a neighbor’s home. I look forward to not feeling ill by the time I go to bed.


29 December 2005

It’s Thursday night, and I am getting ready to go guesting again. My family here loves to party. I like that they include me, even if it means I have to stuff my face full of carbohydrates for four hours straight and down shots of vodka.

The other day I was having an identity crisis, wondering what I was doing here. I’ll leave it to Dave to solve my issues.

“I am who I am, who I am, well who am I requesting some enlightenment? Could I have been anyone other than me? And then I sing and dance, play for you tonight, the thrill of it all, dark clouds may hang on me sometimes, but I work it out, and then I look up at the sky, my mouth is open wide, lick and taste. What’s
the use of worrying? What’s the use of hurrying? Turn, turn we almost become dizzy.”
Dave Matthews “Dancing Nancies”

27 December 2005

As far as I know, my winter break has started. I was told to leave school around 12:30 this afternoon, before my last scheduled class. I guess that’s how they do things around here. Another thing that’s most likely unique to these parts, is taking shots in the middle of the school day. The Ajays and Baekes were going to town on a few bottles before noon.

People are always sneaking me fruit. It’s so unexpected. At least once a day either a student or fellow teacher whispers to me and then hands over an apple or orange. Looking over my left shoulder, I can see my collection is building quite rapidly. It’s like a mini holiday fruit basket from one roofing company to the next. I should start eating them. I need the fiber.

I got two letters today. One of the teachers/vice principals/janitors called me over to his desk. I would have put some money down in the anticipation of more fruit, but I didn’t have any coms on me at the time. It’s a good thing, because as he opened his top drawer, I spotted the letters sitting right on top. He gave them to me and sent me on my way. I guess that means the post office lady figured he’d see me later that day before I had a chance to swing by. It’s definitely a different way to do the mail, but it works.

This past weekend, I went up to Karakol to celebrate Christmas with the volunteers in the area. On Saturday, J and N and I went up the mountain to board and ski. While the snow and mountain itself was awesome, I quickly found that the resort most definitely does not cater to the snowboarder. Next time, I’ll be skiing. I learned my lesson, three bruises, a half an hour in chest-deep snow and countless sore muscles later. As shocked as I was, the problem was in going up, not in going down the mountain. If I had the pocket change, I’d invest in chairlifts, because a 20-minute T-bar ride up to the top of the Ala Too mountain range has left me aching for days. It’s not that I want to complain, but being locked in by both my bindings and straining my arms so as to stay connected to the malicious device was plain brutal. If I can’t be with my family for the holidays, the mountain, however, was where I’d want to be, despite the possibility of not being able to bare children anymore.

If I can’t have my coffee and pastries the way I like to buy them in the States, then by God, I’ll just make them myself. And that’s exactly what I did on Christmas morning. I got up and went to the bazaar and bought everything I needed to make my first batch of homemade coffee cake. And it was good.

I stopped by the Russian Orthodox church while waiting for the store to open, but it scared me a little, so I peaced out of there rather quickly. I was already 45 minutes late, and due to the slight difference in the Orthodox calendar, they weren’t celebrating Christmas either, so I didn’t feel that bad leaving baby Jesus out in the manager all alone on his birthday.

Later we had a bunch of other people over to enjoy the holiday and a phenomenal roast. I made everyone suffer by cooking my self-proclaimed “famous” rice pudding and listen to two of my Christmas albums. No one wanted to join in for the group sing-a-long like I had hoped, so I quietly hummed along solo and ate the pudding straight from the bowl.

When I got home, my host family had made a sweet Christmas meal for me and invited some friends over to meet me and congratulate me on my country’s holiday. It was really nice. They even bought a mini Christmas tree and put it up a week early so that I could have it around. Their New Year’s is a lot like the commercialized version of our Christmas, so on the 31st, the festivities here in Kyrgyzstan will begin. They’ve got Santa Claus and the whole shebang. Well, not Christmas lights Chevy Chase style, but enough decorations to recognize the similarities.

The Magic Hat


"But don't forget that what kept them aflow
Floating through the desert doesn't take a boat, no
Don't forget that what kept them above is unconditional love

And, you can measure it in blood, you can measure it in mud
Let us say for these twelve days, put the measuring away
Cause it's Christmas, and the spotlight's shining on Christmas"
-Rufus Wainwright "Spotlight on Christmas"-

posted by C @ 10:02 AM