суббота, 20 сентября 2008 г.

A Ecke Aly for My Grandmother

September 16th, 2008

Despite the physical distance California and North Carolina, I had a very close relationship with my grandmother, Ruth Mulllally (1913-2008). I was usually only able to visit twice a year, but thanks to phone calls, pictures, and email, she was constantly tuned into what I was doing, and my vast collection of Ninja Turtles only speaks for a fraction of the love and affection I received from her. Still, I think that it is almost unavoidable for a grandson to not know his grandmother as well as he might want to or should. Inevitably, I often viewed my grandmother through the prism of our relationship and so missed out on many important aspects of her character. I know that I have far from the whole picture, and I knew her for only a brief span of her long, wonderful life, it is clear to me that my grandmother was a remarkable woman.

My grandmother was still doing the New York Times Crossword puzzle well into her 94th year and was better informed about politics and world events then most people half her age. She was active in charitable projects throughout her life, and even took part in protesting against the Vietnam War when she was in her fifties. Finally, she went halfway around the world with my grandfather on numerous difficult journeys, and closer to home she calmly faced challenges that would have broken many others. She taught our family that if you are willing to take a risk and work hard, then good things will happen, and that the safe path inevitably leads to failure. While I may have gotten the idea of the Peace Corps from my aunt, it was from my grandmother that I got the courage to actually do it.

Ruth Mullally may not have been famous, but she left an indelible mark on all who met her, and presented a model of a life well lived. She had a loving marriage, three successful children, and the knowledge that she made a difference in the world. I can only hope to be so lucky. I dearly miss my grandmother, and in many ways I am still coming to grips with the fact that she is gone and I will never see or talk with her again. Fortunately though, I still have her memory and her example, and I hope that by living a life that she would be proud of, she will always be with me.

среда, 10 сентября 2008 г.

I Think It's the Glasses

September 8, 2008

School started last Monday, but like in American schools, not much got done during the first week. Partially this was due to the fact that the new students were still being introduced to the way the school works, but the main culprit in the huge waste of time was that we did not have a schedule for the first week of class. Instead, we taught ad hoc classes to whichever group happened to be free in whatever classroom was available. After about four days though, we got the permanent schedule and I was very pleased with it. I got all the classes I requested, including my comic book course and my American culture course and in great time slots too. I only have to come in super early two days a week, and my classes are back to back so I will not have to sit around for hours at a time between classes. As happy as I am though, I am kind of wondering why they were so accommodating. Do they really think that those courses are a good idea, or do I somehow exude some aura that makes people think I know what I am doing? If there is any trick involved, I would have to say it is the glasses. They must somehow make me look older and more experienced, because sometimes I feel like to my collegues I appear to be a 28 year-old M.ED with five years teaching experience rather than a 23 year-old with an art history degree and one year of experience. I mention this because whereas I got everything I wanted, my site mate who does not wear glass is having a hard time getting a schedule, much less a good one.

This sounds great I know, but before you any of you future PCVs out there go and buy a pair of specs, this quick acquiescence is not always great. It often hides misunderstanding or even disagreement, but they feel that it is more polite to do something else behind your back than say anything to your face. The reason I say this is that the other day I suggested to the chair of the department that the students elect their student dean this year, rather than the teachers choosing her as in years past. She said, “makul”, or ok, but that the dean would need to be from the third course instead of the fourth because they had responsibility for maintaining the room. That sounded fine to me, so I went ahead and began to prepare for elections. Yesterday, however, as I am putting up the sign up sheets and going up around to different classes encouraging kids to enter the race, two third students came up to me and said that the chair had already chosen them to be the Dean and Vice-Dean of the department, and that when the chair was discussing elections she thought they the students would just elect “helpers.” I guess the students could be lying, but I doubt it. It just drives me a little bit crazy, because if she did not like the idea in the first place she could have said so, it would not hurt my feelings. Also though, I feel like these kids should get a little practice running for office and electing leaders on the off chance that they actually get the chance to do it for their political leaders on the one day. Still I guess it was a good example of Kazak politics for me, because just as the chairmen appointed the student dean, the President of Kazakhstan appoints the Akim or Governor. Maybe one day this will not be the case, but it is hard to envision any alternative when young people only know the one system, and they are not even trusted enough to choose someone among them as a representative.

In all fairness, it is not that huge a deal. The dean does nothing except organize a few holiday parties during the school year. I guess I was just hoping that I could help transform it into a legitimate way for the students to bring the students’ grievances to the faculties’ attention and exercise some corporate responsibility. Also though, I am not a huge fan of the chair’s choice, and I was hoping that another girl would be elected. The girl I had in mind speaks better English, but also just seems more intelligent and responsible. I guess this is to be expected though; she wears glasses.

Fitting In

September 4, 2008

Well, it is that time of year again; school is back in full swing. I definitely enjoyed the summer vacation, but I have to admit that towards the end I was beginning to look forward to getting back to work. Frankly, I was getting a little bored, there is not much to do in Kyzylorda during the best of times, and with all of our local friends in their villages or visiting different parts of the country, it was becoming increasingly difficult to fill the days. Thus, on September 1st, Knowledge Day her in Kazakhstan, I eagerly put my suit on and headed off to school, grateful in the knowledge that the city population had returned to normal, and that I now had something to do for at least five hours a day. Of course, since September 1st is a national holiday, all we did that day was introduce ourselves to the new students and hold a small concert, but I still consider it to have been a momentous occasion because I realized that I was finally one of the gang. At last year’s ceremony the director of the Shamalgan gymnasium singled out the volunteers, and I kind of expected something like that to happen again. However, when the director came through with the Oblast Director of Education, they just walked right on by without a glance in my direction, and I realized that I was no longer special! I talked to my counterpart about this afterwards, and she laughed and said that I was no longer just the American volunteer, I was considered a member of the staff just like everyone else. No longer would I be paraded around on holidays and when special guests came to visit! I admit that this realization was a bit disappointing at first. I mean, those special guest parties were awesome, but I soon came to the conclusion that it was for the best. For one thing, my classes might actually run normally now because I will no longer be called out for so many special events nor be required to do so many pointless “open lessons” on the active board. Also, I am hopeful this means that I have integrated enough to gain a measure of public invisibility or at the very least inconspicuousness. Who knows, maybe now I can walk down the street without people yelling “hello!” every fifteen feet. I was hoping that it would happen sooner. After all, I stopped wearing the bright yellow backpack six months ago, but I guess these things take time.