December 15, 2008
We just got back from our Mid-Service Training in Almaty, and while it was not strictly a vacation, it was a very worthwhile break. As was the case with IST it was just nice to hang out with the other volunteers and get some new ideas about classroom games and community projects. More importantly however, MST allowed me to compare general experiences with other volunteers. From my last couple of posts you may have noticed that I have been a bit frustrated with life here. Little things kept piling up and I just got angrier. This really bothered me because I genuinely like living here, and I considered myself open-minded and culturally sophisticated. Furthermore, while Kyzylorda is not gorgeous to be sure, it is a nice enough city, and I’ve got local friends and very supportive colleagues. Why then, did everything that I liked about those people for last year suddenly begin to drive me crazy? I think it was because somewhere along the line I forgot that just because I understand and respect a culture does not mean I have to like all of it. There are many things that I love about Kazakhstan, particularly the food, the close-knit family, and the bazaars. However, I do not have to like the fact that young men live with their parents well into their 20s and often cross the line between respectful sons and “mama’s boys,” or that it is perfectly ok to cheat on an exam. My mistake was to try to force myself to like everything about the country, even those things that were antithetical to my own upbringing and values. Since MST however, I have come to realize that I can be a lot more Zen about it. I will continue to respect Kazakhstan’s opinions about education and gender relations, but I do not have to give myself an ulcer trying to see those opinions as correct or equally valid. I guess what I am trying to say is that I have definitely given of hope fully integrating, but I am perfectly happy here going along with the idea of live and let live.
среда, 17 декабря 2008 г.
The Crazy Weather of Kazakhstan
December 3, 2008
I do not think that Al Gore has ever visited Kazakhstan, but in November we have had enough crazy weather to definitively prove his global warming thesis. I was struck at the intensity and implausibility of the weather witnessed. Furthermore, the speed at which the weather transitioned from one type to another was incredible, often taking only one day or even a couple of hours. The first week was five days of heavy, sometimes even torrential rain. This would be nothing unusual if Kyzylorda was not located in the desert/steppe of Kazakhstan, but I bet that we got our due of rain for an entire year. The following week brought a dense cold fog in the mornings that slowly disappeared in the mid to late afternoon. I figure that this could have been the result of the warm afternoon sun sucking water up off of the river that was then trapped near the earth as the temperature quickly dropped at sundown. The fog was so thick that I thought I was walking through a humidfier, and it was sometimes hard to breathe. In a city so flat that I can almost see my school from my apartment two miles away I could barely see five feet in front of me. Next came the Indian summer. When I went to work in the morning it had been in the high 30’s Farenhiet, but by the time I walked back to my house for lunch it had gotten up the high 50’s. As I mentioned before these weather patterns moved in with astounding speed, but the November heat week developed the fastest.. I have to admit that I was so caught off guard that I first thought I had caught a cold and had a fever. This “heat wave” has persisted even into the first week of December with no end in site. It looks like one of the coldest winters on record will be followed by one of the warmest.
I do not think that Al Gore has ever visited Kazakhstan, but in November we have had enough crazy weather to definitively prove his global warming thesis. I was struck at the intensity and implausibility of the weather witnessed. Furthermore, the speed at which the weather transitioned from one type to another was incredible, often taking only one day or even a couple of hours. The first week was five days of heavy, sometimes even torrential rain. This would be nothing unusual if Kyzylorda was not located in the desert/steppe of Kazakhstan, but I bet that we got our due of rain for an entire year. The following week brought a dense cold fog in the mornings that slowly disappeared in the mid to late afternoon. I figure that this could have been the result of the warm afternoon sun sucking water up off of the river that was then trapped near the earth as the temperature quickly dropped at sundown. The fog was so thick that I thought I was walking through a humidfier, and it was sometimes hard to breathe. In a city so flat that I can almost see my school from my apartment two miles away I could barely see five feet in front of me. Next came the Indian summer. When I went to work in the morning it had been in the high 30’s Farenhiet, but by the time I walked back to my house for lunch it had gotten up the high 50’s. As I mentioned before these weather patterns moved in with astounding speed, but the November heat week developed the fastest.. I have to admit that I was so caught off guard that I first thought I had caught a cold and had a fever. This “heat wave” has persisted even into the first week of December with no end in site. It looks like one of the coldest winters on record will be followed by one of the warmest.
пятница, 14 ноября 2008 г.
Not Broken But Certainly Cracked
November 13, 2008
Teaching here in Kazakhstan has been a very enriching experience, however as I said before it has not been without its problems. What bothers me the most is not the problems themselves, but that many of them seem so fixable. For example, the source of much of my classroom frustration can be directly traced to Kazakhstan’s educational system that forces university and college students to determine their profession/major before they have even taken their first class. I guess doing this makes sense from a bureaucratic standpoint, because it makes it easier to assign students into neat, manageable groups. From a teacher’s standpoint however, it is a ridiculous idea. In Kazakhstan students begin college when they are around fifteen or sixteen years old, right after the 9th grade, and most of these kids are not prepared to make that kind of irrevocable decision. Hell, I was not prepared to make that decision until I was twenty, and I am still second guessing my decision. If I had been stuck with my first choice of major I would be a miserable seminary student right now instead of a happy-go-lucky Peace Corps volunteer. Furthermore, the major written on your diploma carries much more weight in Kazakhstan than it does in the United States. For example, I have been here for a year, and I am still explaining that while yes, I did study art history at university, that does not necessarily make me an art historian.
When I discuss this with other teachers they say that its not that big a deal, if a student decides later that they do not want to be an English teacher or psychologist, they will just finish their college or university studies and then go to another University and study something else. This frustrates me to no end because not only is this a huge waste of the student’s time and money, but it is also a major waste of the teacher’s time. I cannot tell you how tired I am of teaching a class of thirty students where at least a third of them cannot speak any English and have not interest in learning it. They will never be teachers or translators, they just sit there doodling or text messaging their friends, waiting for the college to give them an unearned diploma and send them into the ranks of taxi drivers, waiters, and housewives. Most days I do really enjoy teaching, but having to stand in front of a class of thirty students when fifteen of them are totally apathetic is really depressing. I know that there are lazy students at American universities, but there are far fewer totally apathetic ones because they are able to wait and see what sort of subjects they are good at and interested in before making a decision.
According to my colleagues, Kazakhstan is planning a major educational system reform to be initiated in 2010. The plan would have students attend school for ten years followed by two years of general education at a college after which students will choose their professions in preparation for four years of university study. This is a good start, but only time can tell if it will mean smarter and happier students. Perhaps all this is partly nostalgia for the American Education system, but I still think that major changes need to take place if Kazakhstan is going to be a nation of successful fulfilled students; a nation ready to take its place among developed nations by 2030.суббота, 18 октября 2008 г.
Why Am I Here?
October 14, 2008
Lately, I have been asking myself “what am I doing here?” It is not that I am tired of living in Kazakhstan or that no longer enjoy what I am doing, it is just I have not been finding as much fulfillment regarding the reasons that I joined the Peace Corps in the first place. I joined the Peace Corps because I thought that I was providing the Peace Corps and Kazakhstan with important service, and would figure out who I am and what I want to do with my life at the same time. Unfortunately, I am beginning to realize that my presence is not really that necessary and I am more confused than ever as to my life’s vocation.
To be honest, Kazakhstan does not really need Peace Corps Volunteers. There are plenty of local English teachers, and most of them are quite skilled in both language and pedagogy. I may have a sunnier view of Kazakhstan’s education system because I work at a truly excellent college, but in general the local teachers do just fine. I know that as a Peace Corps volunteer and a native English speaker, I provide an important source of alternative and modern teaching methodologies, critical thinking, and English practice, but Kazakhstan’s education system will certainly not collapse without us. That said, both the people of Kazakhstan and Peace Corps volunteers get a lot out of our work together, and Peace Corps should remain present in Kazakhstan as long as possible. The fact remains however, that Kazakhstan will soon be developed to the point that we are no longer necessary, or more to the point, it is no longer financially feasible for the U.S. Government to support the program.
Furthermore, Peace Corps service has not yet been enlightening experience I expected it to be when I joined. I hoped that serving in the Peace Corps would provide me with some direction regarding my future profession or even just life in general, and while I have had a few personal and professional realizations, my future seems just as uncertain as it was before I came. I guess the problem is that I was expecting a burst of clarity, and instead have only been given a few cracks of blue in an otherwise very cloudy sky. For example, I have come to realize that while I enjoy some aspects of teaching, many others I do not. For example, I am not a huge fan of teaching new vocabulary words or giving grades, but I like leading my students in discussions or asking them questions that make there heads hurt. Thus, while perhaps teaching is not my ultimate vocation, if I could find another profession that involved asking people difficult questions that they did not want to answer and did not require living in a cardboard box or somewhere with ivy-adorned columns, it would be great. Still, as important as this little bit of self-awareness was, I am still totally undecided on a future graduate program or career path, and given that my service will be over in a little over a year, this is a worrisome problem. I cannot go back to Waco, TX with absolutely no idea what I want to do next.
Perhaps this sounds as if I have become disenchanted, but that is not the case. I do really like working as a volunteer, and believe it or not, most days I think that I make some kind of difference. I also enjoy living in Kazakhstan. The culture is very different to be sure, but I find it very interesting and attractive. At the same time there is much about my site, Kyzylorda, that reminds me of the city where I grew up. I think that it is this combination of the new and exciting with the familiar that has allowed me to achieve the self-awareness that I mentioned before. It is as if I am seeing my everyday life through a slightly tinted lens that allows me to recognize those things about myself that I was oblivious to before. So perhaps I know why I am here after all. I do not know if I will leave a lasting impression on Kazakhstan, but it is certainly leaving a lasting impression on me.
Lately, I have been asking myself “what am I doing here?” It is not that I am tired of living in Kazakhstan or that no longer enjoy what I am doing, it is just I have not been finding as much fulfillment regarding the reasons that I joined the Peace Corps in the first place. I joined the Peace Corps because I thought that I was providing the Peace Corps and Kazakhstan with important service, and would figure out who I am and what I want to do with my life at the same time. Unfortunately, I am beginning to realize that my presence is not really that necessary and I am more confused than ever as to my life’s vocation.
To be honest, Kazakhstan does not really need Peace Corps Volunteers. There are plenty of local English teachers, and most of them are quite skilled in both language and pedagogy. I may have a sunnier view of Kazakhstan’s education system because I work at a truly excellent college, but in general the local teachers do just fine. I know that as a Peace Corps volunteer and a native English speaker, I provide an important source of alternative and modern teaching methodologies, critical thinking, and English practice, but Kazakhstan’s education system will certainly not collapse without us. That said, both the people of Kazakhstan and Peace Corps volunteers get a lot out of our work together, and Peace Corps should remain present in Kazakhstan as long as possible. The fact remains however, that Kazakhstan will soon be developed to the point that we are no longer necessary, or more to the point, it is no longer financially feasible for the U.S. Government to support the program.
Furthermore, Peace Corps service has not yet been enlightening experience I expected it to be when I joined. I hoped that serving in the Peace Corps would provide me with some direction regarding my future profession or even just life in general, and while I have had a few personal and professional realizations, my future seems just as uncertain as it was before I came. I guess the problem is that I was expecting a burst of clarity, and instead have only been given a few cracks of blue in an otherwise very cloudy sky. For example, I have come to realize that while I enjoy some aspects of teaching, many others I do not. For example, I am not a huge fan of teaching new vocabulary words or giving grades, but I like leading my students in discussions or asking them questions that make there heads hurt. Thus, while perhaps teaching is not my ultimate vocation, if I could find another profession that involved asking people difficult questions that they did not want to answer and did not require living in a cardboard box or somewhere with ivy-adorned columns, it would be great. Still, as important as this little bit of self-awareness was, I am still totally undecided on a future graduate program or career path, and given that my service will be over in a little over a year, this is a worrisome problem. I cannot go back to Waco, TX with absolutely no idea what I want to do next.
Perhaps this sounds as if I have become disenchanted, but that is not the case. I do really like working as a volunteer, and believe it or not, most days I think that I make some kind of difference. I also enjoy living in Kazakhstan. The culture is very different to be sure, but I find it very interesting and attractive. At the same time there is much about my site, Kyzylorda, that reminds me of the city where I grew up. I think that it is this combination of the new and exciting with the familiar that has allowed me to achieve the self-awareness that I mentioned before. It is as if I am seeing my everyday life through a slightly tinted lens that allows me to recognize those things about myself that I was oblivious to before. So perhaps I know why I am here after all. I do not know if I will leave a lasting impression on Kazakhstan, but it is certainly leaving a lasting impression on me.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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