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.
суббота, 18 октября 2008 г.
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.
четверг, 28 августа 2008 г.
Kazakhstan: Year One
August 24, 2008
I am writing this entry to celebrate the fact that as of yesterday, I have survived one year in Kazakhstan. Furthermore, rather than being the worse for wear, I am better than ever. There were tough times to be sure, but overall the experience here has been a rather positive one. My organizational skills have improved, and I am much more comfortable in large groups. I now really do like teaching, and what’s more I think that my students are actually learning. Also, when I lived in America I hated studying new languages; I never thought that I was good at it, especially when it came to speaking. In only one year however, I am reasonably conversant in Kazak and am looking forward to starting to study Russian. Another positive change is that I am even healthier than I was before I left. My allergies have calmed down significantly, and while it might just be the fact that I live somewhere without much plant life, I like to think that the bad air was just the shock to the system I needed. The diet may also be somewhat responsible. Before I got to Kazakhstan I worried about eating so much meat, especially because I only at chicken and fish. While the diet is high in red meat and can be heavy, however, the massive increase in protein consumption, coupled with the fact that it is fresh food has done wonders.
That said, I think that the biggest change has been in my ability to understand and empathize with the people around me. There are things that drive me crazy about Kazak culture; men are often spoiled, women are sometimes overly submissive, and “cooperative learning” is second nature. Still, I have done my best to not let my aggravation seep into my personal friendships. I have come to realize that these flaws are not the fault of the individual, but the culture, and that if I had grown up in such a culture, I would probably behave in much the same way. When I first got to Kazakhstan, everything, the people, the clothing, the language, seemed so different that it was at first hard to imagine forming such close friendships and working partnerships with the local community. After a year among them however, while I have not totally mastered the language or the dress code, I am getting closer, and it is now easy to see that our similarities far outweigh our differences. This is the most important function of the Peace Corps. While much emphasis is put on quantifiable achievements like number of students taught, or liters of water purified, etc., the most important thing that Peace Corps does for both volunteer and host country national is that it forces each other to recognize their mutual humanity. We all have similar ambitions and dreams of success, we celebrate the same milestones, and we mourn the same losses. Perhaps we might do certain things in different ways, but that does not deny the fact that we both do it. I think the moment that this realization truly broke was a few months ago when I was at the wedding of one of my “cousins.” The bride was about to leave to go to her husband’s house and all the family was gathered to say goodbye. I looked over and I saw that the father of the bride, my “uncle”, a pretty stoic guy, was weeping. It was then, watching my uncle say good-bye to his daughter, and remembering similar scenes from past weddings, that I realized how universal our emotions and thoughts actually are. Think about it, what parent, no matter what country, does not cry at their kids wedding? Some people, including some fellow volunteers may believe that I am being to sympathetic to the locals and their often corrupt and chauvinistic behavior, but again I remind them that I do condemn that behavior, and I certainly do not emulate it. Furthermore, I know that one of my main responsibility as a PCV is providing a different example. Still I refuse to condemn the individuals themselves.
I am happy that I have done and seen so much in my first year here in Kazakhstan, but I am also a bit worried because I realize that I have so much left to learn and only one year to do it! I have several goals and projects that I want to see completed before I go home, a departmental newsletter, and an “American Corner” for starters, and I wonder how it will all get done. Ultimately though, if I have had half as much personal growth as I have had in this past year, I think it will still turn out to be a successful year. Just to let you know, I do miss you all, although I am no hurry to return to the States. I will just remind you that this past year flew by, and I know that this next year will go even faster. So do not worry. I will be back before you know it, and maybe even before you want it!
I am writing this entry to celebrate the fact that as of yesterday, I have survived one year in Kazakhstan. Furthermore, rather than being the worse for wear, I am better than ever. There were tough times to be sure, but overall the experience here has been a rather positive one. My organizational skills have improved, and I am much more comfortable in large groups. I now really do like teaching, and what’s more I think that my students are actually learning. Also, when I lived in America I hated studying new languages; I never thought that I was good at it, especially when it came to speaking. In only one year however, I am reasonably conversant in Kazak and am looking forward to starting to study Russian. Another positive change is that I am even healthier than I was before I left. My allergies have calmed down significantly, and while it might just be the fact that I live somewhere without much plant life, I like to think that the bad air was just the shock to the system I needed. The diet may also be somewhat responsible. Before I got to Kazakhstan I worried about eating so much meat, especially because I only at chicken and fish. While the diet is high in red meat and can be heavy, however, the massive increase in protein consumption, coupled with the fact that it is fresh food has done wonders.
That said, I think that the biggest change has been in my ability to understand and empathize with the people around me. There are things that drive me crazy about Kazak culture; men are often spoiled, women are sometimes overly submissive, and “cooperative learning” is second nature. Still, I have done my best to not let my aggravation seep into my personal friendships. I have come to realize that these flaws are not the fault of the individual, but the culture, and that if I had grown up in such a culture, I would probably behave in much the same way. When I first got to Kazakhstan, everything, the people, the clothing, the language, seemed so different that it was at first hard to imagine forming such close friendships and working partnerships with the local community. After a year among them however, while I have not totally mastered the language or the dress code, I am getting closer, and it is now easy to see that our similarities far outweigh our differences. This is the most important function of the Peace Corps. While much emphasis is put on quantifiable achievements like number of students taught, or liters of water purified, etc., the most important thing that Peace Corps does for both volunteer and host country national is that it forces each other to recognize their mutual humanity. We all have similar ambitions and dreams of success, we celebrate the same milestones, and we mourn the same losses. Perhaps we might do certain things in different ways, but that does not deny the fact that we both do it. I think the moment that this realization truly broke was a few months ago when I was at the wedding of one of my “cousins.” The bride was about to leave to go to her husband’s house and all the family was gathered to say goodbye. I looked over and I saw that the father of the bride, my “uncle”, a pretty stoic guy, was weeping. It was then, watching my uncle say good-bye to his daughter, and remembering similar scenes from past weddings, that I realized how universal our emotions and thoughts actually are. Think about it, what parent, no matter what country, does not cry at their kids wedding? Some people, including some fellow volunteers may believe that I am being to sympathetic to the locals and their often corrupt and chauvinistic behavior, but again I remind them that I do condemn that behavior, and I certainly do not emulate it. Furthermore, I know that one of my main responsibility as a PCV is providing a different example. Still I refuse to condemn the individuals themselves.
I am happy that I have done and seen so much in my first year here in Kazakhstan, but I am also a bit worried because I realize that I have so much left to learn and only one year to do it! I have several goals and projects that I want to see completed before I go home, a departmental newsletter, and an “American Corner” for starters, and I wonder how it will all get done. Ultimately though, if I have had half as much personal growth as I have had in this past year, I think it will still turn out to be a successful year. Just to let you know, I do miss you all, although I am no hurry to return to the States. I will just remind you that this past year flew by, and I know that this next year will go even faster. So do not worry. I will be back before you know it, and maybe even before you want it!
вторник, 19 августа 2008 г.
A Note on Peace Corps Fashion
August 18, 2008
I know that it is a little late for this note to be of much us to the incoming Kaz-20 group, but maybe it will offer a brief example of how the Peace Corps gives pretty useless advice. I remember going around to REI, Eddie Bauer, and Wal-Mart this time last year to get the clothes the Peace Corps said I needed for Kazakhstan. Now, I know that part of the problem may have been my own images of what a Peace Corps volunteer should look like, but following that list, I ended up with lots of khaki’s, a couple of collored stripped shirts, and no blue jeans. Basically with the clothes I brought with me I look like I am either ready to go hiking or ready to go to the country club, neither of which helps me a whole lot. Kazakhstan may be a developing nation, but the people here have a fully formed sense of fashion. People here dress really nice, and not just on certain days and occasions, but everyday. At my university in America it was normal to see my female classmates role into class in sweatpants and a t-shirt, but here in Kazakhstan no girl would be seen wearing that outside the house. In fact, clothes like that are explicitly referred to as house clothes. All of my students come to school in the latest styles, and I often feel underdressed next to some of my male co-workers, many of whom wear a suit and vest to everyday. Ultimately, the only real good piece of advice PC gave about clothes was the suit. It is indeed a necessary piece of equipment. However, in their haste to include such items as zip off pants and boots, they forgot to mention that you are probably going to want your stylish jeans and leather jacket too. While it is true that after two years of hand washing those clothes are going to be shredded, but I promise you that the sense of wellbeing you get from fitting it just a little bit more will be worth it.
I know that it is a little late for this note to be of much us to the incoming Kaz-20 group, but maybe it will offer a brief example of how the Peace Corps gives pretty useless advice. I remember going around to REI, Eddie Bauer, and Wal-Mart this time last year to get the clothes the Peace Corps said I needed for Kazakhstan. Now, I know that part of the problem may have been my own images of what a Peace Corps volunteer should look like, but following that list, I ended up with lots of khaki’s, a couple of collored stripped shirts, and no blue jeans. Basically with the clothes I brought with me I look like I am either ready to go hiking or ready to go to the country club, neither of which helps me a whole lot. Kazakhstan may be a developing nation, but the people here have a fully formed sense of fashion. People here dress really nice, and not just on certain days and occasions, but everyday. At my university in America it was normal to see my female classmates role into class in sweatpants and a t-shirt, but here in Kazakhstan no girl would be seen wearing that outside the house. In fact, clothes like that are explicitly referred to as house clothes. All of my students come to school in the latest styles, and I often feel underdressed next to some of my male co-workers, many of whom wear a suit and vest to everyday. Ultimately, the only real good piece of advice PC gave about clothes was the suit. It is indeed a necessary piece of equipment. However, in their haste to include such items as zip off pants and boots, they forgot to mention that you are probably going to want your stylish jeans and leather jacket too. While it is true that after two years of hand washing those clothes are going to be shredded, but I promise you that the sense of wellbeing you get from fitting it just a little bit more will be worth it.
One Last Interlude
When I got back to Kyzylorda, I was glad to be home. It had been almost a month since I had left for Ust-Komen and I actually like my desert city, most of the time at least. Once I got there though, I realized that I should have been careful what I wished for. It had been pretty hot in Kyzylorda when I left, but once I returned the heat quickly became almost unbearable. The temperature was regularly in the mid 45 degrees Celsius, and the wind did nothing to help the situation. All it would do was just blow dust everywhere and make the heat even worse. Luckily, Kyzylorda has a nice big river, the Sidaria that has a man-made beach where we all go swimming every afternoon. On a side note, the locals call this the “Jewish Beach” because, and this is a direct quote, “its free.”
Still, as much fun as I was having staring at the ceiling and cooking in my own juices, I was glad when my friend from Zhezkazgan invited me to come up to one last camp before classes started up again. Unfortunately, he only gave me the heads up a few days in advance, but it was all right because a bus goes from Kyzylorda to Zhezkazgan daily and it was not that hard to get a ticket. The bus was an old soviet type school bus, although an all-terrain vehicle would have been more appropriate. The bus did not so much follow a road as a really bumpy dirt path, and it was even forced to leave that at times and just drive across the open step. To make matters worse, the bus kept stalling outwhich not only extended the trip from eight hours to twelve, but was rather scary because there was absolutely no sign of life between Kyzylorda and Zhezkazgan, and if we had gotten really stuck it would probably have been a full day until a replacement arrived. Ultimately however, all of the trouble was worth it I guess. Zhezkazgan was hardly the hole in the ground that I expected after hearing Robert complain about it for eight months. In fact when I finally got there, the second thing I said to Robert was “what the hell were you complaining about?” Zhezkazgan had, unlike my beautiful Kyzylorda, clear evidence of urban planning, and a fully functional downtown. Zhezkazgan has its drawbacks to be sure, even disregarding its isolation. Zhezkazgan also has a great deal of air pollution due to all of the copper mines and processing plants in the city. In fact, some days it was so bad that when I blew my nose I thought pennies were coming out.
The camp in Zhezkazgan was a lot of fun and a great success. It was a nice middle ground between the crazy schedule and counterparts of Alga and the apathetic students of Ust-Kamen. The camp schedule was busy but not super overwhelming, and the kids were interested and active in both lessons and sports. In fact, it turned out that I had four students in my class who showed considerable talents in Ultimate Frisbee. Another great thing about the camp was that it was one another chance to meet and hang out with other PCVs. Not only did I get to see my friends from training one more time before school started, but I also got to meet Robert’s site mates from the Kaz-18 group, Dusty and Valerie. Both were really nice, and it was good to see that all of the Zhezkazgan volunteers got along pretty well. Of course, with the next nearest volunteers being eight or twelve hours away, they had better right?
All in all, it was a great two weeks and I was glad I had that one last trip. I feel that I have fully recharged my batteries and am ready for the coming year. Also, I am happy that I got the chance to see a lot of Kazakhstan has to offer. It is kind of funny actually, despite their similar size, it took me much longer to see as much of America as I saw of Kazakhstan this summer. My family traveled a lot to be sure, but it was usually on the East or West coasts, rarely the middle. Now though, I am back at site, this time for keeps. Summer is officially over, but I have to say it has probably been one of the best ever.
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