Shortly after arriving back from my vacation I was on a 30 hour train to my new site, Petropavlovsk. I have to admit, at first I wasn't a big fan of the train but once you learn the system its pretty nice. I had 30 hours almost all to myself (aside from my cabin mates who would sometimes encourage me to eat with them) and not feel guilty about doing absolutely nothing because really, there isn't much you can do on the train. I was so wiped out from a busy vacation, the emotions of needing to move and saying goodbye to Dave that I slept a lot. When I was awake I read, listened to music, and did sudoku. Oddly enough, the train was just what I needed.

I arrived at site at about 8:30 in the evening and was greeted by 3 of my 4 site mates. They helped me drag my extremely heavy luggage off of the train and and took me to my very own apartment (see photos posted earlier). In my apartment they had previously made several pizzas and stocked my kitchen with some necessities to get me through until I had more time to shop and get situated. This was a Sunday and the following day was a national holiday and was looking forward to having that day to rest and get situated but I was told I was supposed to report the next day and meet everyone at my new organization. I was expecting this to be a quick meet and greet, have some lunch and tea, and then be allowed to go back home to rest. However, it was pretty informal and I was there for 5 hours basically meeting everyone and sitting there not knowing what to do. I was hoping after being here a year these initial meetings wouldn't be so awkward and uncomfortable but they still are. What was really nice though was that after work 2 of my coworkers walked me to my apartment to help me meet with my landlord and sort things out for my apartment. After that they took me shopping and helped me get food, towels, cooking utensils and all other things necessary for my apartment.

My organization is translated as “Youth Resource Center.” Even after over a month of being here I am still trying to figure out the various aspects that this center is compiled of. At first I thought it was like a community center where kids and youth could come to do various activities. Instead, its more of a organization for young adults to become active in civic affairs. My office is fairly small, with an office I share with my counterpart Natasha, a conference room, a bathroom, and an office for our secretaries. My director, Sergei, doesn't even have an office and uses the conference room but he is seldom here. I have discovered that this center basically encapsulates 8 other smaller organizations. Every day there are always groups of people coming in and out but never staying for very long. These people operate under the other organizations but we only have this one office building. These people that come in are mostly still students so they come by after classes, do some work, and then go home. It's all very confusing and I'm always feeling like I'm in the way or something.

Despite the fact that my work objectives are to assist my counterpart Natasha with projects dealing with gender issues, journalism, and tuberculosis, I have spent the vast majority of my time researching grants. I have found one possible one to work with and am currently drafting ideas but I can't say that this type of work thrills me. I have no experience with grants, so on one hand it would be a good opportunity for me to succeed in writing one. But I didn't join the Peace Corps to sit behind a computer all day, mostly work alone, and write grants. It's also not sustainable work for my  organization. We are supposed to be doing things that will live on once we leave- me writing grants won't achieve that. I'm hoping with time I will be able to do more. I have participated in a fair amount of projects though. My counterpart will always ask if I can do something and make it seem like something small so I agree. Like the time she asked me to be a judge in this “Lady of the City” competition which turned out to be more political. I hardly understood all the legal jargon and I was supposed to judge these women? Plus it was filmed for TV and I was asked on the spot to say something to the crowd...awkward. Then there was the time I was asked to attend this workshop for promoting social work in Kazakhstan. I was asked to say a few words at the end about social work in America. Next thing I know I'm sitting at a table with other speakers at the front of the room while a TV camera is in my face again and have to participate in all these small discussion groups. There was also the time I was asked to give a TV interview about the competition I had judged. I said yes but only if they gave me some guideline of what to say. Next thing I know its an hour before the interview and I am expected to memorize 2 paragraphs of really difficult legal words in Russian. On one hand I feel more confident after going through these things but I feel so uncomfortable while in the moment. I'm basically making a fool out of myself inadvertently on local public television.

Beyond that there isn't a whole lot to report. Living in a city, my life is less unusual compared to the village daily grind. I'm almost worried my Russian will get worse because I live alone, I shop at supermarkets instead of a bazaar so I don't have to wager anymore, and I'm fairly isolated at work. Not to mention the 4 other Americans that I socialize with fairly frequently. I will admit, the first night sleeping alone in my own apartment was a little frightening. But I'm actually not scared at all. It is a little lonely at times but it's nice to have my privacy and independence. Having Internet is great too though it does make my budget run really thin. I've started going to a Russian tutor twice a week which is helpful. Her name is Olga and she is almost 26. She is an English teacher at one of the schools and still lives with her parents. We have these lessons in her apartment and her parents have sort of adopted me just like every local who gets to know me does. It's ridiculous how people here, especially older women, just want to make sure you are fed...and I mean WELL fed. Even if she is not at home when I happen to come, I am expected to drink some tea and eat whatever food she prepared especially with me in mind. Since I live on my own its sort of nice to have meals prepared for me twice a week :) Though I recall this as the reason why so many volunteers gain weight, especially in the winter when everyone hibernates and you can't walk it off.

As for the city itself, I don't have too much to say about it. As far as Kazakhstan goes I think it is a really nice city. I actually prefer it to Almaty. It's smaller (about 250,000 people give or take) but you can walk everywhere. I love how much I get to walk. Even to work is a 15 minute walk one way. Add in errands or social events I add up some good mileage. Up north there is a much greater concentration of Russians but I see more Kazakhs than I expected. I still here Kazakh spoken occasionally but far less than I used to. I still get an occasional side glance from people on the street but much less than in the South; though in a village everyone knows everything so that caused more attention my way. Another volunteer lives in a village 2 hours north and we went to visit him one weekend. I can now say I have been at the northern most PC post in the world (I think it's pretty cool he has that claim).

One fun tidbit. Recently I had a small dinner party for some of my coworkers to help us get to know each other better, and outside of the office. The menu was lots of homemade pizza (crust and all!), salad, and applesauce. I know the applesauce seems random but one of my site mate's host mom gave me this huge bag full of tiny apples. I had no idea what to do with so many apples and I knew they would go to waste so I figured “hey, applesauce!” It all went fine but my counterpart (who is 23) bit into my pizza and lost a tooth! I have to say I was a little repulsed by this. The fact that a 23 year old girl lost a tooth biting into soft pizza lost a tooth is a little alarming. But the dinner went on and I still can't believe that happened. Just another entry in my novel of stories from this experience!

It really was a bit of a surreal experience seeing my mom after being in for a year. Her flight arrived around 5 am local time so I called a taxi to pick me up from the PC office at . The ride was interesting as always. The cab driver asked me the usual questions about marriage, what I think of the economy, etc. However, the great thing in all of this is that I got him to wait for me at the airport and then take my mom and me to the hotel together. This is huge because the airport is fairly remote and not exactly easy to get to. It's not as hard getting there as it is getting out because taxis line up, waiting to rip you off – especially if you are a foreigner. My cabbie gave me a discount of 1,400 tenge (its usually 1,500 with a registered cab) but the taxis waiting at the airport try and charge you 3000 TG – ridiculous. Granted this is $20 but for local standards that's horrendously inflated and I refuse to let myself be an example for all other foreigners that we will pay any price because locals want to exploit their ignorance. I have to say my nerves were all over the place waiting at the airport. I kept wondering, what if something happened, I hope she doesn't get bribed, is her plane on time (that much I could figure out at the airport). The airport was surprisingly tiny and I realized it had been an entire year almost to the day that I had last been there. Those early days of arriving in country are all a blur and I can hardly recount certain details. There is one gate that all international arrivals come from and everyone swarms this area. I was getting so frustrated because I couldn't see the people coming out and was jumping up and down and peering all around to try and get a glimpse of my mother. Finally, at long last! I saw her and aggressively pushed my way through the crowd and dragged her away from the mob. I think we both let out yelps of relief and joy, she was really in Kazakhstan! We lingered in a big hug and teared up a little bit, but wanted to make our way to the hotel before we really got situated.

I felt proud that I had managed to line up a cab ready for us and we went on our way. I was trying to point out certain things of interest but I also knew she probably wouldn't be able to retain any of it after the long journey and backed off. At the hotel we checked in, dropped off our luggage and got some breakfast. For Kazakhstan I was amazed to see a really good spread of both local and European versions of breakfast. One of the things I miss the most is real breakfast food! We ate and talked to our hearts content and both actually took long naps since we both were tired. The details of the rest of the trip are difficult to recount. Despite the fact that we had a week in Kazakhstan together it all just blurs together. Almaty, and definitely Kazakhstan in general are not very tourist friendly. Even in the big city you can do most things in a day, maybe two. There are other options for hiking and skiing but those weren't on our agenda. So essentially we did a lot of walking and catching up. As we walked we stopped occasionally for some ice cream, a coffee, or margaritas! (though not very good) but basically being spoiled by all the things I don't do on a regular basis, nor can I afford on a PC budget.

It was pretty cool being able to show my mom the country that has been my home this past year. I am by no means a pro on this country but I am savvy enough to know how things work here, how to get around, and how to get by with the language. It was both cool and awkward to speak in Russian around her. Here it’s so normal (I mean I HAVE to speak it and my friends speak it too) but no one from home knows me as a Russian speaker. What was frustrating for me is that we went to nicer restaurants than we volunteers normally do and I had issues being able to translate the menus at times. We usually go to very cheap, local places and always order any one of 4 main dishes offered everywhere. These restaurants were more elaborate and I realized my vocabulary for “finer dining” was quite limited. In some instances it took me a good 10-15 minutes to order! The word for restaurant in Russian is 'ресторан' which is pronounced “res-torr-AHN” but since their R's look like our P's and their N's look like our H's my mom read this is as “pek-to-pah” which gave me a great laugh.

I think the highlights of the Kazakhstan portion of our vacation were the trips we took to visit both of my host moms. First we went to Issyk where I had training and met with Irina #1. She was very happy to see me though also rushed to prepare our feast (I told her this did not need to be a big deal but they are known for their hospitality and cannot fathom giving a guest a simple sandwich. Another volunteer came with us who also knows Irina and lives in the area so we helped her prepare lunch while my mom waited in the next room. I could tell both Irina and my mom were nervous not being able to communicate with each other but this time I got to play translator! It is difficult at times because it does disturb the nature of a conversation but Irina marveled at how much better I could speak in Russian than the last time we met (I mean when I lived with her I was learning numbers and food, now I can actually conjugate verbs and make sentences haha). We had a very good afternoon and the food was great (she made these stuffed peppers with beef and rice inside which I love but never had anywhere else outside of her home). She then proceeded to congratulate my mother on how she raised me which was a little awkward because I was translating and was essentially speaking high praise about myself.

Our visit to my village was just as great because we visited both my organization and my host family. However, I need to provide you with the cab experience getting there. I've mentioned several times how cab rides always turn out very interesting from the conversations. This ride was a particular first due to the conversation topic. Normally I am asked about Obama, the crisis in America, how I like Kazakhstan, if I am married, etc. This time though, I was asked about Native Americans. I knew what he was talking about because the word they use for NA's is 'индеец', pronounced “in-DAY-ts” which is close to our politically incorrect “Indian.” He was asking if they still exist and when I said yes, he asked me about their reservations. I believe an exact translation of what he said was “tell me about these reservations, because I cannot understand them!” When I asked him if he had been to America he said no, but he had seen many movies with Indians. This always cracks me up because everyone thinks movies truly reflect America. So people think country western cowboy raids, gang banger thugs, and machine guns are common every day things. It’s funny but mostly sad that this is the impression our media influence is giving the world about us.

So back to the visit. We were greeted at my organization with one of our handymen waiting outside the gate and jumping up and down when we came within site. He then proceeded to yell to everyone else that we were there and I was ambushed by handshakes and hugs and eager glances at my mom. The afternoon was largely spent showing my mom around the facility and surrounding area, eating a very elaborate lunch, translating questions geared towards my mom, and catching up on the weeks I had been away. My mom brought some candy from home that was devoured in the end. People here love anything foreign and made exclamations like “Megan's mother brought American candy!” and someone else exclaiming, “Oh great! Make some tea and let's eat!” We eventually made it to my former residence and helped Irina #2 with various preparations. Irina also laid out a huge spread of food and we felt like all we did was feast all day. I think my favorite part of the host family portion was when my 86 year old Babula toasted to my mother (visual: everyone with cognac in hand, including my mother, while we go through the customary toasting process). Keep in mind my mother prefers margaritas, and the occasional beer and is not a hard liqueur drinker in the least. She was basically pressured to drink cognac which I felt bad about but it’s important for them to toast and honor her. So all of my host family is present (Irina, her two sons, their wives, her granddaughter, her mother, and another friend) and Babula shakily raises her shot of cognac (drips spilling out) and simply says, “da kon-sah!” (to the end!...much like our “bottoms up!”) Classic, priceless, awesome.

We managed to get maybe 2 hours of sleep (actually mother didn't sleep because she wasn't as used to the persistent barking of cats and dogs outside my bedroom window as I was) and my host brother graciously drove us to the airport at about . We check in and things are fine although security is really intense and had to go through about 5 different checks. I had one little scare where my Kazakhstan registration may not be valid and therefore would not be allowed out of the country but I called our safety and security officer who told me I needed to show him a card PC gave us that I never use but it worked in this scenario, PHEW!

In all honesty, Russia was a blur. The days were jam packed with events and history to brush up on and the days just flew by. I enjoyed Moscow a lot but St. Petersburg was definitely my favorite part of the trip. I didn't know it was situated amongst a grid of rivers and canals and is a very beautiful city. Even though we were with a tour it was fun to be able to still get by if I wanted to with my Russian. In came in handy for shopping, eating without our tour group, getting around, etc. It was a very big help on the metro. My favorite parts were the winter palace, Peter Hoff, and the hermitage museum. It was also really interesting to learn more about Rasputin, Count Stroganoff (yes, where beef stroganoff comes from!), Tchaikovsky, Tolstoy and more.

As the end of the vacation neared I became very apprehensive of all I had to face going back to Kazakhstan. My mother and I both flew from St. Petersburg to Moscow together but from there took separate flights to our respective destinations. I had to bolt from one flight to the next, only being allowed an hour to go through customs and everything which meant I basically had to do a hurried “bye!” to my mother as we landed. Trying to make my next flight was a nightmare because it was so difficult to figure out where I needed to go and once I figured that out there were endless security stops to go through. Finally I made it out and look for my gate only to find that none are marked and my ticket doesn't tell me anything. I ask other people where they are going and no one responds with Kazakhstan. I own up to the fact that it must have boarded already and missed my flight. As I run around like a chicken with its head cut off I stop various airport workers to help me and they kept telling me to listen to the announcements and not to worry. I'm not sure why they were telling me not to worry as it was presently the time my flight was supposed to leave but I decided to wait and make sure that it really was gone. After some time passed a woman asked me if I was going to Kazakhstan. I immediately perked up and said yes! Turns out she had the same flight number and told me the plane had been delayed and there was nothing to worry about. I almost started crying because I was so relieved. So I made my flight back okay and that marks the end of my vacation with my mom.

Due to the safety issue my former counterpart presented, PC wanted me out of my village as soon as possible. However, since I had an upcoming vacation already planned with my mother they didn’t want me to arrive at my new site only to immediately leave again. So that meant for 2 weeks I had freedom to basically do whatever I wanted as long as I was not in my village. For the first few days I stayed with a member of our PC staff who works with our budget and had offered her spare bedroom to me. I can’t even express how humorous those 2 and a half days were at her apartment. First of all it was HUGE! We’re talking wide hallways, 2 bedrooms, living room, dining room, workout room/study, nice kitchen. Here was one person living in what I would call a palace after living in an old cramped soviet apartment from anywhere from 2-5 people living in it at any given time. I had forgotten how we as Americans typically live and felt like a pauper coming in off the street to the rich folks’ house. My jaw literally dropped as I entered each room and rediscovered various things that I have gone so long without. For one thing, she orders food online from so had stashes of tuna, ranch dressing, velveta cheese (I definitely made grilled cheese!) peanut butter, kashi cereal…I was in food heaven! Then she had a treadmill, plasma TV, and not only a washing machine but a DRYER! The one and only one I’ve seen in this country. And my bed was huge and soft and comfy! I was like a kid in a candy store. I vegged and watched movies, ran on her treadmill, ate good American food, and slept like a queen. I almost forgot I was in Peace Corps because it’s so different from my daily life. The woman was a sweetheart to me too. She was a volunteer herself a few years back in after deciding to retire after a long and successful career with the Kodak Company. She was one of many motherly roles in my life abroad and she did me a world of good by letting me stay with her.

From there I went to visit Dave's village way up north for a week. Interesting story here because there is an option to take a bus or a train for this 18+ hour journey and I was told for a more direct, less troublesome route to take the bus. This, my friends, is how one of the worst decisions of my life was made! To start things off, the bus was to depart at about from Almaty. This meant I had to get up extra early to allow time to wait for the bus that would ultimately take me to this bus station, plus the 30 minutes en route.  I ended up waiting nearly 45 minutes for the bus and just barely made it to the bus station in time to catch the one I needed to visit Dave. Once at the bus station, I then had to buy a ticket to check my luggage. being the pristine model of efficiency, I encountered one cashier stand open with a line (or more like blob since a line is way too practical) of 20-30 people all waiting to do the same. The line system drives me crazy here because it simply doesn't exist. If you need to wait for anything here you need to be on-guard, aggressive, and well...rude. People will walk right in front of you if you aren't standing your ground which means you essentially need to be hugging the person in front of you who is also likely to be smoking and reeks of bad body odor. Once my mission was accomplished I watched in sheer astonishment as the bus pulled up. Knowing I had a 22 hour bus ride ahead of me I was expecting something that at least attempted to provide some comfort. Wrong, wrong, wrong! A small, rickety old bus pulled into our waiting area that I think came directly from the 1970s. When I found my seat, I could barely fit into it with the rows being crammed so closely together and then I had a tall male sitting next to me who spilled over into what little space I had to begin with. Awesome.

All things considered, the first leg of this trip was pretty cool. As we got out of the city and into the countryside I couldn't help but think back to how this must have been more like how my grandparents and other ancestors traveled. I was brought back to a simpler, humbler life and realized many people of my generation would never have this opportunity to reflect on how life was and how we take for granted what we have now. I would like to say this reflective attitude lasted the entire trip but it quickly went sour. As we got into the high heat of the afternoon the bus became sweltering hot and I being the smarty pants I am decided to wear jeans. Not only did this bus not have AC, but it had 2 very small openings on the roof for windows (think small slats as opposed to sun roofs). So the lack of ventilation combined with 30-40 people crammed on a small bus made this absolutely miserable. The infrastructure is also so bad that trying to read or do anything was virtually impossible and this bus was far too old to be equipped with a TV that I listened to music, stared out the window, and pumped benadryl to make me pass out. There was also the other kind of entertainment which I sometimes despise- the locals mustering up the courage to talk to the American about what I like here, do I like Obama? Am I married? Do I speak Kazakh? Do I like Beshbarmak? (Their national dish, which no, I don't) etc.... I don't mind these conversations as much when I have an option to escape. When this happens on a train or some long trip I have no such possibility and so it just gets awkward and uncomfortable. I would also like to mention that when the bus was scaling hills it went about 5 mph and every time I was waiting for it to bite the dust. By some miracle I passed out at only to be awakened after by my neighbor who is urgently telling me to get out my documents. I groggily realize that the bus has stopped and a policeman has boarded. Immediately my heart starts racing because unlike policemen back home, they are something I fear here. Usually they give foreigners a hard time, ask for bribes, and like to play out their power. Silently praying to myself I pass my passport over. I see him linger since most people hand over a card much like a driver's license and mine is clearly different. He lingers long enough to make me start sweating despite the freezing night temperature but then hands it back to me and proceeds with the rest of the bus. I wish I could put into words the relief I felt but as I was starting to regain feeling in my legs a friend I had made on the journey was being pulled off. This guy is Nigerian (so you can imagine the attention he gets) but lived several years in London, then moved to Kazakhstan for 2 years and was soon to be married to a local woman. He only had a copy of his passport and not the real thing and this did not suffice for the power-driven cop. Fortunately he had a local friend with him who also got off the bus to help him through. But all I could think about was that could've been me, and I wouldn't have had a friend to help me and I would be in some place I didn't know in the middle of the night and alone. Makes you think doesn't it? Finally, early the following morning I made it to Dave's site.

While it was very good to see Dave I won't mention much about it since most of the trip was us discussing how he really should go home. He had been unhappy for a very long time and was grappling with the decision of whether or not to stick it out for another year under such circumstances or leave. I had always felt bad for him since he had no control over where he was placed, no volunteer does. Peace Corps chooses for you. But when I saw his experience from my own eyes I fully realized his situation.

The week I was with Dave went well. Mainly because it's just so good to see each other, we don't get a lot of opportunities. While I would say most of the week was uneventful in terms of reporting things for my blog, the day I was supposed to leave was jam packed with setbacks. First of all, during the week I had tried to purchase my return ticket, this time taking the train after my awful experience with the bus. However, I was not so lucky and was told the trains were SOLD OUT for the next few weeks and I could take my chances with standing room only. I thought to myself, by some small fraction the bus would be slightly better than risking having to stand for 24 hours on a bus if a seat did not become available. The reason why the trains were sold out is because August is a big travel month for families before children start school on the first of September. So then I make my way back to the bus station to buy my ticket there to find a huge line already waiting for me. Again I deal with the people trying to cut in front of me, the terrible odors, and try not to think about how much I hate life in these scenarios. Finally I make my way to the window only to be greeted by this extremely sour woman who was a total b**** if you will. She basically yelled at me to submit my order and threw my change back at me. As I'm trying to collect this precious Peace Corps budgeted money and put it in my wallet 2 other locals swarm in like vultures on either side of me, fighting for next chance at the window. I think I literally sang “I hate this place” to myself so that if people even understood my English they would not take it seriously. 

So now let's flash forward to the day I'm supposed to leave Dave's village. I have my bus ticket already scheduled and paid for and need to leave Dave's site in enough time to make it into the bus station in the nearest city (Dave is a 2 hour bumpy bus ride away literally passing nothing along the way). Problem is a bus only goes to and from Dave's village 3 times a day at weird times like , , and . Since my bus was leaving in the evening we figured I would take the bus to maximize time together. At we are walking the 3 blocks to the bus stop only to see it whiz by as we are just out of reach to be able to stop it. Dave says, “That couldn't have been it. It's never that early.” So we walk the 30 minutes to the bus station in his village only to learn that yep, that was the bus. Dave proceeds to yell at the attendant that it was 20 minutes early and seeing as there is limited transportation people rely on the bus schedule tremendously. The lady basically shrugs and gives us this apathetic look of “sorry.” We walk back to the main road and try to catch a gypsy cab, a common practice in the south and I have done it several times. Problem is, in the north it’s not so common. What’s even more is that it’s so isolated that cars would be separated by 5-10 minute stretches of nothing. So there we were sitting like bums on the side of the road with my suitcase, standing up and sticking out a hand every time a car went by only to be denied. We did this for almost an hour and a half and just when I was about to give up a car pulls out of a local street and waves us over. It was a young Kazakh guy who said he wasn't going all the way into the city but could take me part way and drop me off where some taxis usually wait to take people there. I had a very small window to make this decision since I didn't want to keep this guy waiting and I was terrified about putting my faith into him, being alone, and being in the middle of bufu. I decided just to go with it since I really wanted to catch my bus and make it back to my site to wait for my mother's arrival. I first jot down the guy's license plate number in my phone and get in. I have to admit, this might have been one of the most terrifying moments of my life because I did not know the surrounding area at all and I was at this guy's mercy to trust he would get me where I needed to be. Turns out he was one of the nicest people I've met here and had a girlfriend himself so wanted to make sure I was okay as he knew Dave was worrying about me. He not only dropped me off to a taxi stop that went to the city, he bartered for a good taxi price for me and went on his way. It's amazing how things can work out sometimes. I had to wait 30 minutes for the taxi to fill up with people but I made it in the city with 45 minutes to spare before my bus would depart. By some miracle this all worked out! By this point I was so happy to be where I needed to be that it didn't matter what sort of vehicle awaited me. However, I was pleased to find still an old bus, but probably 20 years newer than the first. This one came with a TV, was much bigger, and I was not crammed in like a sardine. The weather was also cooler so it wasn't very hot. I made it back to Almaty in enough time to do some laundry, pack for my vacation with my mother, and get a night's sleep! And I definitely needed it because these adventures certainly wiped me out. Just another day in the life I guess. 

My final week in my village was an emotional one. I already knew I was fortunate to have a great organization and a great community of people to be surrounded with but it really came through this week. Everyday people stopped in to see me, to express their regrets of me needing to leave, and to thank me for various things. Many times I would just sit on the steps leading to my organization and just take some time to soak everything in and appreciate it. I had all sorts of people supporting me and wanting to do whatever it took to keep me here, but PC made their decision and there was no changing it.

I had a variety of "ghosties" which is basically an invitation into someone's home for usually supper, dessert, and tea. They are always interesting and good language practice. I had to end my soccer club/camp 2 weeks early and my girls gave me some small gifts and even laid out a picnic for me the last day. It was so sweet! There were about 12 kids ranging from 4-14 years old and they had made all this food themselves and brought drinks too! One of the most endearing things I have ever seen. My organization had a farewell lunch for me on Thursday and that was extremely emotional. There were about 12 people there, and our cook made this huge delicious meal in my honor. Not surprisingly, the power was out like it frequently is in my village so we ate by candle light. Once I was able to calm myself enough to speak, I gave a dialogue about how great it had been working there, and how my coworkers have really had an impact on my life. In a lot of ways they really became like a second family and I thanked them for all their generosity and kindness. True to my nature I cried through this and acquired quite the stack of tissues which of course turned into a great joke. Then, one by one, everyone else went around and said something about me. It really was touching. People commented on how open and friendly I am that made it easier to get to know me despite the language barrier, my love for children and wishes for me to have my own great family someday, appreciation for the work I did and my willingness and responsiveness to whatever came my way. The lunch took almost 3 hours altogether and I was deeply touched by how much me leaving was affecting others, not only me. Some coworkers even teared up which of course set me off again too.

After lunch we took a series of photos which are already posted on this site. I was showered with lots of gifts: jewelry, toilettries, souvenirs, cards, etc. My favorite gift though came from my directors which is a formal thank you letter for everything I have done written in English and Russian and framed. Some kids I have worked with also made me bracelets and gave other small gifts. The patients at the drug and alcohol rehabilitation center that I teach English to 3 times a week also all said something for me, sang a song, gave me some roses and some small souvenirs. I really feel blessed to have had these experiences.

On Friday Peace Corps sent a driver to come and collect my things so my directors drove me home from work around 2. As I left work there were a lot of tears parting ways with everyone and it was sad to drive off. Irina, my host mom, was also sad and choked up a little bit. But we both knew we'd see each other again, probably a few times so it wasn't too depressing.

That weekend I spent with another volunteer who lives near Issyk, where I had training my first 3 months here. It was really peaceful to be out there again and another volunteer and Dave joined us so we had good company. We went for long walks and hiked around and I very much enjoyed the solitude. I then stayed with a PC staff member for a couple days and I feel like I'm already on vacation. Her apartment is in the middle of the city and HUGE. I have my own bedroom, with a big comfy bed, my own bathroom, she has a nice big tv with lots of movies and tv shows on dvd, she has a treadmill, and has food ordered in from America! So for about 2 days I got to relax, get a good nights sleep in her wonderful bed, took nice long showers, and ate good American food. I even used the treadmill! I caught up on some reading and watched some movies. I realized that I have turned a new leaf in my life. I went through something really sad and abrupt having to leave my village and still have no idea where PC will put me. Until then my belongings are in a pile in our PC office and I am traveling here and there till my mother comes on the 16th. Despite all of this I feel very calm and thankful that I have had these past few days to relax and rejuvenate myself. I am handling each thing as it comes, not getting too far ahead of myself and I have realized how much healthier I am about taking on the bumps in the road. I thought I would be a mess but I'm still trucking. Though knowing I'll see my mom in less than 2 weeks sure does help!

Despite some last minute hopes (especially on the part of the locals) it has definitely been decided that I need to leave. There were some waverings on behalf of Peace Corps and locals of possible solutions to my issue but to no avail. Yesterday we had a staff meeting at my organization to alert people of my situation, but they were waiting to hear from PC to make the final verdict. Today my regional manager called my directors early in the morning and when I came to work I could tell everyone knew by the looks of sorrow I received. I immediately started to cry (as I'm tearing up now even writing this) because it really hit me how much work I have put into this community and how great a place I have made for myself. I started to reflect at how much I've accomplished from not just from a life lesson, but from what PC wants us to attain and accomplish here. I was told numerous people called my regional manager to act as an unofficial bodyguard for me. People offered to do whatever they could be it walk me wherever I need to go, beat Ruslan up, or strike a deal with the police. I can't really put into words how this has affected me. This place really has become like a home to me. People have cried with me at the thought of me leaving. All day I have heard what a pity this is, how boring it will be without me, how the children will be losing a great role model, how I have become like a real member of my host family. The response of me having to leave earlier than expected has made me realize what an impact I have had here that I didn't previously recognize.

I did learn that my organization will be getting a male volunteer come November after the new class completes their trainging as I did last year. This makes me feel better, that they will still have support and I envy that volunteer. He is one lucky dude. Peace Corps is coming to pick me up at 3:00 on Friday and then I am out of here. I still have no idea where I will be moving to and most likely will not know until then end of August after I get back from Russia. In the mean time I am going to visit some volunteers including my boyfriend way up north until my mother arrives on the 16th.

I know when the time comes I will meet this new site with optimism and work to make it like a home as I have made Almalybak. I fear that it won't be able to compare but I will always remember this place, these people, and their overwhelming kindness. It has not been easy, but in the end I will never forget my time here. I am blessed to have had this experience and a much better person for it. For that, I will always be grateful.

I decided just to copy the mass emails I sent out regarding my recent situation. Not only am I exhausted and don't feel like retelling the story from scratch, but I wrote these in the midst of everything so you can get a better sense of my emotion. So some of you may have already read these next few blogs.

I had a meeting with 3 PC officials today and it has been decided that I will be getting a site change. I basically have a week to tie up loose ends and get "closure" with my site. I'll try and give you the scenario without too much trouble.
 
This move is not my choice. I have realized after interaction with other volunteers that I have one of the best sites in Kazakhstan. There are many OCAP volunteers that either don't have work, their organizations are terrible, or their directors and coworkers make life miserable. Many teachers also feel the same. I on the other hand, have a great organization who have become to be like a second family to me. I have work that is meaningful and I am appreciated, something not every volunteer can say. I also have a great host family, I'm close to the city, etc. I think you get it how lucky I am in terms of PC situations.
 
So what happened? Some of you may remember my creepy counterpart from my first organization. He was socially awkward, locals didn't like him, and he was of no support both for work and adjusting to life in Kazakhstan. After two months of frustration I asked him why he asked PC for a volunteer and he replied that I was here to marry him and take him back to the states. I was removed from that org and then found my current (wonderful) org.
 
However, since March Ruslan (my former counterpart) started visiting me at work, attending local events involved with my org, and random run-ins on the street. He was told by my org to never come there, and that I never wished to talk to him. Despite these warnings he thought it suitable to check in on me about once a month. I started to feel more and more uncomfortable after each visit. He's never touched me or threatened me, but every contact has become more persistent and obsessive. The most recent time was this past Tuesday. He came to work, was told to leave, but then waited for me on the street and followed me home. Luckily I was with a counterpart but she was just as afraid of him as I was. We took a detour and ultimately lost him, but it frightened me more than I had ever been before. I started to doubt my previous thoughts of him being uncapable of attacking me, and thats not how I want to live my life here. I didnt become a volunteer to be threatened and terrorized by locals. So I brought the issue to PC. After deliberating over the issue all the officials decided the only solution was to move me since we cannot actually charge Ruslan with any misdemeanor. There was no other possible solution we could think of that would remedy the situation enough to change his behavior and know this would no longer be an issue. As much as I tried not to I broke down during the meeting. I've been here a year and only these past few months have I truly felt like I have fully integrated. I have great supportive people around me and work that I enjoy and this a-hole has ruined it all for me. I am not looking forward to starting over in a new town, with new work, that could very well be awful like it seems for too many volunteers. I am actually trying to stay positive about this, just getting the rest off my chest.
 
I was told to be out of my site by this coming Friday, and since my mother will be visiting soon they will not move me until after my vacation, but I must be out of my site. So in the meantime I think I will travel to help with other volunteers' camps, or an official offered me her spare bedroom in the city. I'm not sure what I will do yet, I have a few days to think it over. I also don't know where I will be moved to since both the country director and my regional manager were out of the office. All I know is that I will most likely stay in the east somewhere as that is the region my regional manager is responsible for and they think it will be easier if I stay with her. As soon as I know more I will update you again.

Once again PC has thrown me a tough situation to swallow. I know I will grow from this, and that I can handle this. But I have to say I'm really bummed. I'm not ready to say goodbye to these people. If it was because I was returning home, that's different. But its because of a very unpleasant, unstable man that I have to leave and start all over in a new city, in a new organization. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers.

I'm sorry it's been so long since my last update. A lot has happened and I'm not sure I can remember it all! To start, my laptop died so that has made it difficult to stay updated. I think my mom will bring one of those small notebooks when she comes on August 16th to get me through this next year. Speaking of a year...I can't believe I've been here almost that long. August 21st is the official day though I'm pretty sure I left home either the 16th or 17th. Mom comes the 16th and I really can't wait. I need a BIG hug and a familiar face! She will be in Kazakhstan for a week and then we are going to Moscow and St. Petersburg. I must admit I'm really excited to leave the country for a little bit.

My boyfriend Dave and another volunteer Casey came to my village for two weeks to help work in a drug and alcohol rehabilitation center. It was really nice to have visitors and in the evenings after work we would walk around by this big river in my village. On the weekends we came back to the city since a lot of volunteers have been coming through for travel or the mandatory medical and dental check-ups for my group. I just had my visit on Friday and everything is ship shape! I've lost some weight but in my opinion its all muscle weight since I think I still look about the same. The pap smear was interesting. I won't go into detail with that for obvious reasons but let's just say it was uncomfortably LONG! I recieved compliments from the dentist for my sparkling white pearls :)

I had a great moment at the bazaar recently. Normally buying anything there is this big song and dance. Normally what you want is not always within reach so you have to ask for it. Then you want to compare t with similar things so you get the best quality for the price. And then there's this haggling process about the price. Well I went to buy another towel and previously I would just point to things and ask "skoilka stowet?" (how much?). Now I am able to call most things by name, ask about similar items, and feel much more comfortable in the transaction. I am also finding that more and more people lower the price automatically for me, without me needing to hassle them. I may look foreign, but once I speak they know I'm not a sucker. It's great! Once at the bazaar someone asked if I was Georgian (country not the state). I was wearing a polo shirt and jeans so I'm not sure how this lady thought that but hey!

I also finished up the kindergarten where I taught them English everyday. It was a very interesting experience trying to discipline 3-8 yr olds in Russian and Kazakh. Some days they made me want to pull out my hair, other days they left me smiling for hours. I especially loved when I would arrive and have 10 youngsters run at me with arms wide open screaming "Miss Megan!" That never got old. I would say they understood and retained the English pretty well too. I got a lot of compliments for my teaching methodologies which is pretty funny basically having no experience with that before.

All in all I have to say the summer has been great. I've been busy and have a lot of freedom to start and work on my own projects, as well as having the structure to follow in my organization. I've been able to do a lot of things with kids and always growing and adjusting in this culture.

 My travel plans didn’t exactly go as expected and I am now back at work at week early. I was touched to receive such a warm welcome when I showed up at work early, greeted by my coworkers with smiles and energy and telling me how boring it was around without me and how much they missed me. I must admit I’m a little bummed to be back early. The week I was gone was busy and draining and I find myself exhausted and a little sad I have no more trips to look forward to till mid August. The thing is with the OCAP program, we are only allowed to leave site for 30 days while the TEFL (teachers) only have to stay at site for 30 days since school is out till September. Moreover, I am doing a soccer program from June to August and an English school for 7 weeks so I am bound to my site with those commitments. I am excited about these projects but there are so many great things other volunteers are doing at their sites that I would love to help with, allowing me a change of scenery as well as being around friends. I’m trying to snap myself out of this, think I’m still “train-lagged” if you will.

Unfortunately, Dave got really sick the day we were supposed to depart which left me alone on the train. Everything worked out, I was really nervous about doing this on my own, in a foreign language but I found my way and now feel more empowered for it. I got coupe, which is like middle-class on the train. I was in a private car of 4 beds, one of which was never occupied the entire trip. There was a woman with a sick 2 yr old (that was fun…) and a man maybe in his mid-late thirties whose second question to me was “are you married?” They were both very nice and I must say it was wonderful to have so much free time to simply read, listen to music, do some soduko, and sleep sleep sleep. I also got some good Russian practice. Being a 23 hour train there was lots of available time to sleep. I had no problem with this during the day, taking cat naps here and there but at night was very difficult. First of all peoples’ stops are at all hours of the night so there are people opening and closing the door to our car, getting settled, babies crying, etc. I’ve noticed here that people take no attention to being quiet for other people. If they are awake and someone near by is still sleeping, the person still sleeping is SOL. At first I thought this was rude, and then I realized everyone does it and I guess it’s just how it works here. The first say the scenery was pretty cool with rolling hills, mountains, and wild flowers. When I woke up the next day I saw flat, dry land with small dying shrubs. I was instantly grateful to not live in the steppe. Cho, the volunteer who lives there and put on the HIV/AIDS interactive training seminar picked me up from the train station. He gave me a few fun facts about the town (I guess it used to be the former Soviet capitol of ) but the weather is really what struck me. Not having many trees around, dirt and sand gets blown everywhere- and it gets really windy there so you can imagine the sand storms. Cho was telling me that when people walk inside a store the first thing they do is wipe the dirt from their eyes so they can see. I had never seen anything like it. You can take a shower, walk outside and in 2 seconds you will be covered with dirt again. However, it only took me about a day to adjust to this and just say “screw it” and learn not to care about it. Also, its one of the hottest parts of . I believe it got up to mid 90s the last few days I was there and there were LOTS of bugs. Somehow, my last two days there I got a terrible allergic reaction. I suddenly realized I had bug bites all over my arms and legs and they itched like crazy. They became large and inflamed and seemed to multiply by the hour. At one point I had 46 bites on my body with 5 on one finger alone. Wind, dirt, sand, extreme heat, bugs…so glad I don’t live there but it was fun to visit and be a part of the conference.

The conference went really well. There were about 40 teachers from the surrounding villages that came to learn interactive teaching methods to talk about HIV/AIDS with their students. We made a CD for the participants with game ideas to help gain interest. The conference took up most of the time I was there but in the evenings we made tacos and other nice dinners which was really nice. I am getting tired of the 4 dishes people serve here over and over again. It was also nice to see other volunteers but sad that Dave wasn’t there and that I wasn’t allowed to see him because of PC medical policy.

Since Dave was ill that also meant I couldn’t go to his site to help with his sports camp which was also then canceled so I had to catch a train back to Almaty. This time I decided to buy a plats car ticket which is the cheapest ticket you can buy. Instead of having private cars the entire wagon was open with beds everywhere. Most volunteers buy these tickets because of the price. Don’t think PC would allow us to afford first-class! I was fortunate enough to be around really nice people again, practicing both Russian and Kazakh this time. There were screaming children all around and I was sweating on my bed it was so hot but it’s amazing how many comforts I’m become used to living without. What surprises me a lot is people’s ability to withstand heat here. I am literally sweltering in this train and at least half the windows are not opened and people are wearing pants, sweatshirts and drinking hot tea (naturally AC is not an option here). Add the fact that I still have bites all over me and people are staring and it was not the most comfortable of trips but it could’ve been worse.

Dave was sent to Almaty to be evaluated by our staff so when I got in on Saturday we at least got to see each other for a day and a half. It wasn’t exactly the two weeks we were hoping for but at least we got to see each other at all. On Sunday we went to the zoo which was a very fun experience. To get to the zoo you must first walk through this big park that then turns into an amusement park and then eventually you get to the zoo. There was a lot of stimulation and it was really fun to have the day together and just walk around. The zoo itself was better than I was expecting, but it was also very sad. As far as the animals go, there was nothing I hadn’t already seen. Though the yak was the second animal we saw which I took many pictures for my Dad since he made abundant yak jokes before I left for this country J What was sad was the maintenance of the animals which seemed very haphazard. For one thing, many animals were in iron cages with little or no foliage. Many animals were in cages way to small and on many occasions we saw animals literally pacing back and forth as if they were losing their minds being inside those god awful things (and with good reason!). Perhaps the saddest sight of all was the grizzly bear. As you all well know this animal is huge and it had the smallest cage of all. The cage was probably only 4 times the size of the bear and it too was pacing back and forth madly in its tiny cell. What also saddened me is that people threw all sorts of crap into the cages. We’re talking sugar puffs, cotton candy- things totally unnatural to the animals and there was no one around to stop them. I can’t tell you how sad I felt for these animals. What was also ironic were signs telling people not to make too much noise around the animals yet there were vendors all over the place selling these obnoxious noise makers that kids blew insistently right into the animal cages. There was also lots of glass tapping and even smoking right near the cages. As the day wore on it just got ridiculous. When we finished with the zoo we decided to go on the Ferris wheel in the amusement park. We got a really cool view of the city and I took a lot of pictures from this day to share with you all.

For the past two weeks I have been experiencing some dental pain/sensitivity. Never having any problems before, I didn't really know how to act about it, especially with being in Kazakhstan and not at the access of my usual dentist. Gradually the pain became worse and I realized I couldn't wait to address it til July when we will have our mandatory medical and dental check-ups. So I called our PCMO and he arranged an appointment for me the very next day.I woke up early to make the bus trip into the city and one of our medical assistants went with me to the clinic (we have a great doctor and medical assistants but no dental staff). I was really nervous on the car ride, not knowing what to expect, and fearing I was putting myself in some danger. I've heard some stories about some of the medical practices here (like doctors buying their degrees) and even though I knew PC would do a full evaluation before partnering with just anyone, I couldn't help but be apprehensive. When we arrived I was pleased to find a clean, sterile office, much like any you'd find in the states. I was ushered into a room for x-rays where the techician asked me if I was pregnant (in Russian of course) which for some reason I found funny. Same practice, but I'm still scared because of the language. After about 5 minutes we followed the technician to talk to the dentist. As we walked I passed 3 other patients being drilled on right before my eyes. Everyone was in one big room, seperated only by small dividers. So much for privacy! The dentist (who was female and I was impressed for this country's standards) looked at it and all I could comprehend from her ponderings was "root canal." My heart lept out of my chest as I thought "What?! I thought I was getting a cavity filled! I'm too young for a root canal!" Luckily, this was not the real issue. Turns out the gums on the upper right side of my mouth have eroded back to the point where the "neck" of some teeth are exposed. Thus causing pain and sensitivity. I was quickly chastized for brushing my teeth incorrectly (brushing horizontal and not vertical) and she set to work. It was nice having the PC medical assistant with me to help translate but everything happened so quickly I was always on edge. For starters they gave me local anesthesia which made me nervous, again, you never know about the hazards with different medical practices! And I rally had no idea what she was going to do to remedy the situation. Turns out she put these little "shields" on two of my teeth that had the worst gum erosion. The whole process was pretty funny though as I didn't understand all the things being said to me. Even something simple like "close your mouth" had to be conveyed by the assistant grabbing my lips and shutting them on the tube that sucks out your saliva. It was hard not to laugh when that happened. It was painless (though it hurts now that the anesthesia has worn off) and they blend in with my teeth pretty well. I was told they should last anywhere from 1-5 years and advised to stay away from soda, lemons, and too much sugar for a while. Part of the issue too is that I'm not getting as much calcium as I used to since I don't drink much milk (only in coffee and sometimes when I have cereal). I don't drink the milk because the smallest fat percentage I can find is 2.2% Guess I'll just have to stop fighting and drink the fat stuff more.

When we were finished I took a look around as Aliya was filling out the paperwork. I noticed that all the assistants were wearing hot pink scrub tops with black dress pants and heels. Quite a difference from the Sponge Bob Square Pants scrubs and Crocs we see people wear in the states. I was shocked to see staff wearing heels in a dental office! But at least for the time being it seems like the doctor did a good job, PC footed the bill (I have the best medical insurance I'll probably ever have. I don't have to pay even for chapstick, bandaids, sunscreen, and then the supply us with everything else you can imagine for free too).

The taxi ride back to the office with Aliya was interesting too. She asked me if I was married and seemed to be crafting some matchmaking ideas when I told her no. She then got even more excited when I told her I was 23, a prime marriage age in her opinion. She then remarked that I am very beautiful and will have no problem attracting a husband. She went on to say that 17-25 is the time girls need to find a man to marry. If they don't they will be too old and ugly and will have to compete with younger, more attractive girls to find a husband. I wanted to tell her I don't base a potential husband by his looks, nor do I want that to be the only factor in my selection either. But it is such the mentality here. It usually works out with two people meeting young, being phsyically attracted to one another, going through a brief but really passionate dating period, and then getting married. They then pop out 3 ore more kids before the age of 30 and complain about how their husbands are lazy and drink too much. As tempting as that sounds I'll stay with my American boyfriend, marrying when I please, not because of what age I am. What a day!

I've come to terms with the fact that my service as a volunteer in this country will always have it's ups and downs. It will never be fully consistent, though I am trying to make better efforts to encourage and allow that to happen the best it can. There are days when people blatantly and rudely stare at me, language abilties I still don't comprehend, food that makes me nautious. And then there are days I am greeted and hugged by kids on the street, making a difference and setting examples to my students that I don't even realize all the time, making others see Americans in a positive light. You never know what kind of day it's going to be. Sometimes I feel like I really am making a difference, somedays I think not. What's difficult is always trying to stay positive, to make things happen.

I had been in a slump for a couple of weeks. I try to take each day as it comes but sometimes it's hard not to think about how much longer I will be here. I decided to be more deligent about running. It's good for the mind as well as the body and it's something I used to do practically daily so it was high time I brought that back to my life. Part of what made me stop is the fact that running is not the trend here as it is in the states. I've probably seen 5 people legitimately running for exercise since I've been here. So with that said, I get a lot of looks and stares...more than the normal ones I get just walking around. My village consists of a skewed grid of paved and dirts roads, with pot holes and unevenness galore. Mix in the element of stubborn drivers that yeild to no one and dogs that want to tear my flesh apart given the chance this in not exactly a "peaceful" experience. Oh, and there's also the burning trash and exhaust fumes that I inhale which really helps my breathing.... So I usually run around 7:30 in the morning to try and avoid as many obstacles as possible. I try to take the back streets and carry and rock in hand in case I meet a wayward dog.

Last weekend I decided to explore some countryside I was not too familiar with. Everything started off great, I found this dirt road lined by great big trees on either side, the sun was shining. But after some time the road dead-ended and not wanting to stop, I proceeded unto actual cultivated farm land. Not knowing how trespassing is handled here I was on guard, afraid some angry farmer would pop out with a gun or something. Luckily, I had no problems but I need meet another sort of obstacle which I hadn't thought of- cattle. As I was winding my way through fields I came across a grazing herd of cattle. One spotted me about 30 yards away and maintained eye contact. As I neared, more and more cattle stopped to look at me. As I got about 5 yards away there were roughly 12 cows staring at me! I was really nervous, not wanting to be attacked as I ran by. Again I managed to get by unscathed but I had a humorous thought about how different my work out routines are these days. It's a far cry from Bally Fitness that's for sure but at the same time it was a beautiful day, it was quiet, and the mountains here really are beautiful. On my run I was pleasantly surprised to find a decend sized pond. I stopped at sat down for a while, clearing my thoughts and soaking in the refuge. I came back feeling renewed. I got some exercise, cleared my mind, and even got a little much needed sun!

That same day I was invited to a barbecue the rehabilitation center was having. It was the 2nd year anniversary of their opening in my village and invited their supporters to come for some activities and food. Meanwhile, there was a group of about 15 Korean-Americans that were visiting to help at my organization for a mission trip. They were only here for about 5 days and I got to speak with them a little bit but not as much as I would've liked because of our schedules. However, at the barbecue I got to talk to a lot of them and they are such nice people. They were intrigued by me being here and asked me lots of questions. It was really nice to get their support and interest. Later I met another Korean couple that lives in Kazakhstan and we talked for a really long time. The woman mentioned that I made a really good impression and that I'm different from other Americans she had seen or met. When I asked her how she said that I was like a diamond...that out of all the people I was a jewel. I'm still not really sure what convinced her to make such a statement, but it was one of the nicest compliments I have ever received. It really hit home because Peace Corps' third goal is to create a better understanding of Americans for local people. All of a sudden I realized how to this woman, I did my country proud. It's pretty powerful when you think about it. So much as volunteers we focus on the first goal, to transfer skills of need to other countries, but we do a lot intentionally with the third goal as well that I hardly realize (the 2nd goal is to create a better understanding of locals for Americans). It definitely was a good day to lift my spirits!

So spring has officially established itself in my village. I’ve actually been surprised about how chilly it’s been. For some reason I expected it to be pretty hot but it’s been pretty fair and really no complaints about that since I hear summer gets pretty hot. I will say though that there has been a ton of rain. I mean rain that doesn’t stop for several hours, days on end. I also discovered that the area is accustomed to nightly wind storms which I have heard quite often through the night. Many people make fences out of old scrap metal and during these storms I hear the wind trying to penetrate these fences and gates causing them to sway and clash with one another creating a sub par sleeping experience. I also challenged one on my way home one evening as I had to shield my face from flying dust and debris into my face at a rapid pace. Sooooo pumped about these! (That would be my sarcasm in case you didn’t catch it).

On the 26^th I experienced my second wedding here and feel like quite the seasoned expert. While the first was a blast, I enjoyed this one even more for several reasons: 1) I knew more of what to expect so I wasn’t as uneasy or uncomfortable; 2) It was the wedding of my host cousin as opposed to the first being for my host brother and so there was less obligation of me or Irina as not quite immediate family members (they really do consider me like a sister, quite touching actually); 3) I wasn’t invited to pre-reception shenanigans which meant I didn’t have to show up till 5 which was A-OK by me; and 4) well, I mean, it’s been almost 6 months with this family. I’ll always be a fish out of water but to a lesser extent these days.

For a little background recap- Rustam is the nephew of Irina, ipso facto my host cousin. His bride-to-be is Ika, the sister of my recent host-sister-in-law Anelia. So the family on her side was exactly the same as the first wedding I attended. Rustam’s family was virtually the same to, with the addition of his mother’s side of the family and his own friends. So really, it was much like wedding déjà vu. When I first arrived I got a few curious glances by those that were unaware a random American would be attending this event. But as more familiar faces arrived I was greeted by smiles and excitement to see me once again. The wedding took place in Almaty near the mountains and the restaurant was at a higher elevation so there was a really cool view of the city. The weather was also nice so we enjoyed some cocktails outside while we waited for everyone to come.

As we found our seats I suddenly heard my name called into the microphone by the maetre D. Turns out there are these fun little categories they name out like “best dressed” or something and I got the “most beautiful!” I was so shocked but flattered. I’d like to thank my Old Navy dress and a black shirt I purchased at the local bazaar for $8. I was seated in between two older cousins of the family which worked out splendidly. The cousin on my left, Alec, was amazingly cordial and kind. He knew a little English and lives in the capitol city of and was really good company. On the other side of me was actually the good friend of the eldest cousin who moved to 15 years ago and this was his first visit back since. His name is Sergey, his friend’s name is Renaux who was born in but also lives in . So I had a very interesting, cultured evening. I gave my toast in Russian this time but it still went well. When it came time to give my toast, the maetre D called forth all the cousins on Rustam’s side. Initially my name wasn’t called but Irina pulled my by the arm to join them saying “Megan, you’re practically a cousin. Get out there!” which got a lot of chuckles from the guests and my name was actually then called out on the speaker. Beyond that there is not much else to entertain about the wedding. It seems “over the top” is normal for weddings here but this was a little more tasteful. I wasn’t forced into any crazy games this time or have to dance in an Arabian costume which was nice.

After the wedding is when things got very interesting. Sergey was all about keeping the party going after the wedding, despite the fact that it was a wedding, and I was encouraged to attend with all the other cousins. After some persuasion I decided to join. However, after more of the older guests had left a fight broke out in the parking lot between one of my host brothers and one of Rustam’s friends. I’m not really sure what caused it since most people made sure I was preoccupied with other things but it was broken up fairly quickly without much damage. We ended up going to a dance club called “Esperanza” which was oddly crowded for a Sunday night. It had an interesting mix of old people, foreigners, the provocative crowd, and creepy dudes. What’s amazing is that we stayed there until about in the morning…insane! I sort of regretted my decision to go out after the fight happened but Irina had already left so I was stuck. We stayed in the apartment Sergey had rented for his stay that night. The following morning as we all woke up Sergey asked me if I had “pulled a sicky.” Startled, I tentatively said “no.” Wondering if I had done something in my sleep that had managed to surpass me (side note: I only drank a little at the wedding so this surprised me that he was asking this question). Turns out in British talk “pulling a sicky” means calling in “sick” on Monday due to partying to hard on the weekends. It got a good laugh between him and his friend.

One more interesting thing worth mentioning before I wrap this up is a situation that happened recently at work. As I mentioned it rains a lot here in the spring so there’s been quite the flow of water accumulating everywhere. I walked up the second floor of my organization which is where our teaching classroom is to find huge puddles all over the floor and sever water damage on the ceiling. I went downstairs to find our “handyman” and explained the situation to him which his reply, in an annoyed tone, was “Megan, this is .” It was strange because he said this like I was some spoiled princess to want this to be repaired. I realize things are old and decrepit here, but I think a leaking roof demands some attention unless you want the entire building to suffer. I know this is life for many people here, but it’s still a problem. It was the first time I feel like it was blatantly made apparent by another individual that I’m used to having a nicer quality of life living in . I’m sure others think it, but it was never insinuated like that before. Needless to say I cleaned up the mess and strategically aligned the desks to avoid water drippage while I taught to the soundtrack of plastic buckets catching water droplets. The very next day after this abundance of water I wake up to realize there is no water in the apartment. When I get to work I am told there won’t be water for a few days because they are “cleaning” it. This is simply ridiculous because even locals are disgusted by the water here and many refuse to drink it. So I went without water at all for 2 days, being careful about going to the bathroom and using basically a bowl of water to complete my daily hygiene tasks. Man!

I had somewhat of a revelation recently. A realization if you will, that yes I have in fact contributed work here. So many volunteers stress over "work." We stress because for so many months, we really have no idea what is going on around us. We can hardly express our physical state let alone our thoughts on how to promote HIV/AIDS awareness to teens in schools. So in the meantime we turn to teaching. It's something we don't need Russian for, and it's desperately wanted all over the country. It's an easy fix to our work dilemma. Initially you think, "hey, I'm teaching. This is alright." Then you tire of this. Thinking, "teaching is great and all, but I'm not an education volunteer and I am here to work with NGO development." It's great because it keeps you from wasting your life away sitting at a desk doing nothing and feeling ashamed, but it also makes you think you're not doing what Peace Corps expects of you.

It wasn't until I had my first conflict with a co-worker about a week ago that I realized I do more than I give myself credit for. We had a misunderstanding (CRAZY given the language barrier right! :)) and I felt she didn't understand my intentions and my values. I won't get into details because it was quickly resolved (and I was right, YES!) but it made me look at what I have done from a new perspective. I work every day from 10-6, give or take, plus 2 English clubs outside of that. I spend my Saturdays going to the PC office in the city to do more supplemental work because there I actually have good access to decent internet. It's a day off technically, but as well all know we need technology to get certain things done and for me that means doing in on weekends. During week days I teach advanced English to the men in our local rehabilitation center for drug and alcohol abuse. I work with a boy twice a week who is learning disabled. I teach my staff english every day. And presently I am almost single handedly working on a grant proposal for a summer school project that may not be accomplished in time since I have never written a grant before and am trying to teach myself as I go along. Unfortunately it's still not completed and the project would like to start in June and you also have to account for 3-4 weeks to get the money once the grant is submitted. Then I have 2 English Clubs outside of work and I have initiated a women's running group 3-4 times a week in the morning before work begins. This last one is more for my pleasure but almost everything a PCV does is a project. Inbetween lessons I am trying to get to know my coworkers and other community members better, practice my Russian, and help with some technical computer issues. For the summer I will be teaching youth about fitness and healthy life skills and will also initiate a soccer club. Much of this is still not what I expected to be doing, but the truth of the matter is I never really knew what to expect. Instead of being so hard on myself I've realized how I have helped people in small ways and have created a caring environment around me.

My most rewarding moment came about a week ago. I boarded the local bus that goes into the city and when I got on I was excitedly greeted by the little boy I work with twice a week. He has difficulty pronouncing words and says my name like "May Gee." So I see this little head bobbing up and down in his seat yelling "May Gee May Gee!" I find an open seat in front of his and he proceeded to play and giggle with me for a while. Eventually he squeezed through some people to come to my seat and sit on my lap. I was filled with such love and tenderness. Not only can he attempt to say my name now, but he also recognizes me in a different environment and is also excited to see me. That was a very good day.

Also, here is an interesting link to a video by Edward Said - The Myth of 'The Clash of Civilizations.' It's really long and I only got a chance to skim it. But if you have the time check it out.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-6705627964658699201

Sunday was the actual holiday of Nauryz as well as the day of the legendary horse games. Sadly it was super cold and rainy but we were bound and determined to see these games. We headed to the stadium which is called the “Hippa Drome” and discovered it was much like a festival you’d see in the states. There were people everywhere walking around eating and drinking. Vendors were making food on the spot and selling it. We gathered inconspicuously in a large group so no attention was drawn to us whatsoever and waited for the games to begin. First was a game which translates to “kiss kiss” where a man and woman both race on their own horses down a straight-a-way. The objective is for the man to catch up to the woman and kiss her while riding their own horses. The catch is that if the man fails, the woman gets to whip him on the way back! I was told this used to be the marriage custom. If a woman had more than one suitor, they had to “play” for her in this manner. If the man didn’t kiss her, he couldn’t marry her. We thought it was more entertaining when the men failed; it was so funny to see the women whip the men! Afterwards a large group of men came out on horseback and lined up facing the crowd. An official stepped forward on his horse and summoned two players forward. The two men then took off their shirts to reveal a cloth belt tied around their waists (I should also mention this is the first time I’ve seen Kazakh men with muscle since most people are so lean). The goal is for these two men to sort of wrestle and try to pull the other off their horse. It was extremely masculine and dangerous. I definitely would not want to be stuck with any of these guys in a dark alley…After that a small derby took place with younger children. And then finally kokpar! It was pretty funny to see this dead goat carcass missing a head be plopped in the middle of a field. Two teams had to face each other and the mission is to get the goat off of the ground in your possession and bring it to these receptacles at each end which count as points. The most bizarre part is when someone manages to get a hold of the goat; he secures it under his leg so it is dangling next to the horse as he tries to get to the goal. Because it was so cold we didn’t see the end, which some large prize is usually given to the winner. But it was all very cool to see and very, uh, interesting. We joked about bringing Kokpar to the states and imagining how that would go over with animal rights activists… Monday night most of us headed back to Almaty for our conference on another overnight bus. It was somewhat odd to think of 30 some Americans traveling on one bus across together. I can only imagine what the other people on the bus thought. The trip home was much more uncomfortable for some reason. Perhaps it was a different route but we were trekking on uneven land for a large portion of the trip. I sometimes forget how the infrastructure is in this country because where I am is some of the nicest. Other volunteers talk about how the road just stops traveling between cities and you just off-road sections.

The conference itself was good but nothing really worth mentioning in this blog. A lot of policy and updates really. It was nice to have everyone in one place and go out together though. Saying goodbye again was in some ways easier and harder. The first time I cried my eyes out after our swearing-in ceremony. This time I didn’t cry but I was sad not to know the next time I would see everyone since our next mandatory conference is not till December. This country is so big that it’s difficult (and expensive) to travel a lot and I’m also limited with the amount of vacation days I get. In a strange way I was ready to go back to my site and have things calm down again. I loved seeing everyone but no one really slept much since the days were filled with work and the nights with socializing. No one wanted to miss out on anything!

Saturday was our big trip to , which is the holy city of . 3 pilgrimages to are worth one to . Unfortunately I don’t know a lot about the city since we went ourselves and not with a tour group but I heard the mosque itself is over 700 years old if not more. Here’s a link if you’d like to know more:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hazrat-e_Turkestan

We rented a big commercial bus to hold us all and on the way (the trip takes 3 hours from Shymkent) we stopped at two other sites. The first was an ancient burial site which again, I don’t know many facts about, but was really pretty and cultural. It was so nice to be outside and explore, something I don’t get to do very often when alone at site. As I’m sure many of you know in the Muslim tradition women need to cover their heads to I almost felt like a real local walking around with my head scarf. We stopped at some well which was supposed to be sacred and 3 sips of its water would bless you. Though I had been sick I still wanted to partake and the water was awful! But maybe I was blessed! Before we got back on the buses we stopped at the bathrooms and presented with an issue immediately. Everything was written in Kazakh! It was actually quite hilarious because they had the letters for each side (like we have “M” and “W” but the alphabet is different and we had no idea which was which. My friend Ken jokingly said, “Are we ‘eh’ or ‘ugh.’” We had to wait for people to come out to know which side we needed but it provided a good laugh.

The second stop before was an excavation site that we sort of just stumbled upon. It was really cool because there were bone fragments everywhere and I’m not sure what they were trying to preserve or build, but again it was a new experience and so fascinating. It was really peaceful and tranquil because we were the only ones there and it was so fun to explore. Sadly by the time we got to we didn’t have much time to explore with all our stops and still having a 3 hr trip back. We didn’t get to go inside the mosque but it is absolutely beautiful from the outside. The place was HUGE! As we walked around we saw some camels in the distance and walked over. A Kazakh man and his young son were tending them and my friends Joe and Dave asked if they could get on the camels. Of course they had no problems but when I asked the man suddenly shouted “Zshok! Buldamun!” Now, I know enough Kazakh to understand that meant “no, that’s enough.” I was about to get really mad, knowing this was because I was female, when we realized he didn’t feel comfortable throwing me up on the camel. He didn’t want to be inappropriate so my friends volunteered to help me and he was okay. Again, I’m shattering gender roles slowly but surely here ;)

On the bus ride back we all passed out from being so tired. But it was my favorite day of the whole trip and so much fun!

So the trip to Shymkent was typical to that of regular travel in this country. About 10 of us purchased tickets for an overnight sleeper bus and we barely made it to the bus station on time because of traffic. Our bus was huge and inside it consisted of three rows of bunk beds. They were fairly small, but big enough for an average sized person to lie down and sleep. Unfortunately, I got the bottom bunk and for some reason most of our seats were on the top which meant instead of being by friends I had a large Turkish babushka next to me who snored loudly the entire night. There was a man diagonally from me whom I liked to watch for entertainment because he kept falling asleep with a beer in his hand which would spill all over him as he relaxed. With any large commercial bus movies were played but they were incredibly awful movies dubbed in Russian that if anything made it more difficult for me to sleep. The bus would stop every so often for people to go to the bathroom which pretty much meant finding any place to drop trough. Around (we boarded at 6) the bus stopped at a “rest stop” and no one was allowed on the bus for 30 minutes which meant we had to get off. There were about 15 other buses full of people doing the same thing so it was almost like some crazy night party in the middle of nowhere. I head to the bathrooms and see this monstrous line for the women and no line whatsoever for the men (why is this universal!?). Before entering I had to pay 20 tg for a measly square of toilet paper and as I neared the entrance I was overwhelmed by nasty stench. I finally get my turn and I realize there are dividers between the stalls but no doors in front! So I try to lower my eyes as I head to my stall as to not watch others go to the bathroom. So then you have to strategically align yourself to squat in the whole in the ground while making sure others don’t see your jewels as they walk by. What’s funny is you look to either side of you and you can see heads because the dividers only go to about chest height. Upon finishing your business people run out as quickly as they can. Now you’re lucky if you find water, let along sinks in these situations. This stop happened to have some weird water contraption outside, but no soap. So we volunteers learn to have tissues and hand sanitizer on us at all times! Still having time to kill we head to the restaurant which is bustling with travelers. Some people ordered shashlik which is like a meat only shish kebab. My friend Joe bites into his to find it is still raw in the middle but there’s nothing he can do since you can’t really complain to a manager here so he was forced to pay for something he couldn’t eat. We head back to the bus and I woke up around 6 in the morning to find that we were stopped somewhere. I thought it was a bathroom break and went back to sleep. An hour later I realized we hadn’t moved at all and it was freezing! I pulled back the curtains to see it had snowed and we were stuck in a snow drift! We were not happy at all to see this since Shymkent is the warmest part of KZ and we were expecting temperatures in the 60s! Definitely not snow! So after waiting for a few hours a “tow truck” arrived except it was no tow truck at all. This rickety old farm tractor from the 1960s strolls up and I’m thinking there’s no way this thing is going to pull out our monstrous bus but it did! After a painful 15 hours on a bus we finally made it to Shymkent.

Once we arrived some local volunteers helped us navigate around and meet up with other friends and yes Dave!). The details get a little hazy here since for a couple days all we really did was hang out around the city, meet more volunteers as they got in each day, ate at restaurants and hung out in the apartments we rented. To save money we cram about 8-10 people in two room apartments so sleeping is very interesting. But it was so fun to see friends again no one really seems to mind. Shymkent is a really nice city. In my opinion it’s a lot more user friendly than Almaty. You can walk around and see cool shops, places to eat, and parks whereas in Almaty everything is really far apart. It is known that more Kazakhs live in the south and more Russians live up north but Almaty is such a big business hub that I see a lot of diversity. However in Shymkent, people are virtually almost all Kazakh. We were afraid about being given a hard time for speaking Russian since it’s like a pride thing to speak Kazakh, the national language. But people were very humble with us and we didn’t have any problems. Shymkent also had some really nice restaurants that had pizza, sandwiches, coffee, etc. Usually I think about how bad it is that American culture like fast food and pizza is infiltrating this country but when you go without it for so long it’s so nice to see!

I have some time before my bus leaves for Shymkent to celebrate the holiday Nauryz and I am so excited! I wanted to share with everyone my exciting St. Patrick's Day I experienced here...and by exciting I mean really messed up! First of all, the obviously don't celebrate it here with the holiday having Christian roots, nor have they heard of it. Another volunteer came to stay with me before we all left for Shymkent and so we decided to make some mac n' cheese as a nice reminder of home. You can buy boxes of it in the city, though they are off brands. Nothing is as good as Kraft! But anyways, we had a great time hanging out. I showed her my village, took walks, she had her first banya experience. But after eating the mac n' cheese life was not okay for me. As you all are very aware, I have been having gastro-intestinal issues from the day I entered this country. I had such a bad reaction to the mac n' cheese I spent all of St. Patrick's Day at home, running to the toilet every hour. Even threw up a couple times. Our medical officer thankfully advised me to stay home. What's worse is that I was afraid this would prohibit me from being able to go to Shymkent! And of all the issues I've been having here, how does "American" food set me off worse than the local food! My friend luckily had to go into the city so she didn't have to hang out with my exciting self. But Christmas, St. Patrick's day...I'm afraid what may happen on Easter! I think I may have to start the raw food diet here, this is getting ridiculous! I'm also thinking about swearing off red meat when I come home. I have way too much of it here and I do not feel good after eating it!

Can't wait to share all my great stories with you from Nauryz!

The 8^th of March is an international holiday, Women’s Day. Since this holiday is recognized as international, people were shocked to find we do not celebrate it in (and might I add disappointed since people LOVE to contrast and compare). I explain that we have Mother’s Day and then they understand, but I must admit I like the notion of celebrating all women, not only mothers. What is interesting about experiencing holidays here is that I experience them from the angle of the admired. Students make or buy me things, and the adults are eager to show me the best aspects of their holidays. It’s weird being the “adult” in these situations where usually I am used to giving my gratitude to others of higher respect and instead it is being given to me. I don’t have much time to shop during the week and if you want anything other than food you need to travel by bus to get to it. The bazaar closes around 6 and I am only getting off work then. So when I realized I needed to get gifts for Irina, Babula, and my “sisters-in-law” I made a mad scramble at the last minute trying to find suitable gifts. The drug and alcohol rehabilitation center invited me to attend their celebration on the 7^th as their special guest. I teach some of the guys English 3 times a week and they wanted to show their appreciation. I arrived to find all the men hard at work; cooking, decorating, arranging furniture, etc. To my relief, there were 4 other women there, wives of some of the staff and patients, and was seated near the director and his assistant, who always want to practice their English. The men prepared greasy chicken and oily potatoes, wouldn’t have expected anything less since the women always cook. But I thought it was great they made the effort to cook. I’ve also discovered my love of Korean food while here. Many people make or buy Korean salads and they are delicious! After the meal there were plates of cookies, candy and the like. The men were very attentive to my tea cup and filled it every time it was empty. Think I literally drank 8 cups of tea! And then they arranged skits and musical performances which were really funny. My favorite act was one of the patients did a traditional Russian dance (with a staff member playing the accordion) to which he did the squat dance where the man kicks and pivots with his hands touching the opposite elbow out in front of him. It was really cool. I have seen some old Russian films on TV that show this and it fascinates me. I would love to see a professional do it sometime. Afterwards they gave out cards and flowers to the women. There tends to be a cycle to every type of gathering here that I experience. I think it’s quite humorous now. When I first go to an event, it’s usually a little awkward as in I don’t know where to sit, stand, who to talk to, what to say etc. Then I get comfortable and everything is really fun and interesting. And then a few hours pass and I get bored, tired, and uncomfortable. Like I have this threshold to where I just want to be alone after too much stimulation. But I had fun.

On the 8^th I was surprised to find that the women still did everything as normal. I cooked pizza by request, and also baked cookies. I had to help clean, set the table, and prepare all the food. I guess I was expecting it all to be more like Mother’s Day where the men cook or take you out and it’s usually a very relaxing day. I mean I got some gifts which were nice, but I can’t help but think people are missing the mark here. Sometimes I get frustrated at how I don’t think the men realize how much the women do and how much they expect of them. For instance, Rustem has hepatitis B and every year needs to take special medicine. So for about a week he was home every night so a doctor could come over and give him his medicine. Since Irina works later than I do, it fell to me to prepare his dinner, set the table, get his tea ready, etc. And every night he would describe all of this as my wife training! What’s worse is that one day Irina told me she needed to make lots of plov (a rice and meat dish) for Anuar because his wife had been working late and therefore couldn’t cook for him! He’s a married man and his mother made him food to take home with him, good grief haha. But on Women’s Day I got a nightgown from Irina, sweat pants and a sweatshirt from Anuar, and hair gel and nail polish from Rustem. We exchanged gifts at work and I got shampoo, a student gave me a notepad, and my host uncle gave me a towel and soap. I was so shocked to receive so much. What is also interesting is that “Men’s Day” passed without me realizing it (people joke that everyday is Men’s Day). But the 28^th of February is still somewhat recognized as Soviet Army Day which I guess also translates to Men’s Day. Even though the has obviously collapsed, everyone remembers the holiday. Many don’t celebrate it, though some do, but all are aware of the day.

In the past month most events have revolved around the wedding of my host brother. Relatives are still in town, people are invited over for dinner, and I mostly make myself scarce as much as I can. I am blessed to be placed with such a wonderful family, but I find myself burnt out from all the stimulation. It’s exhausting to always be “on,” and that’s something that is much more challenging for me here. It’s hard to be charming when you are at a loss for many words. Moreover, many people don’t realize how quickly they speak. I am eternally grateful to those that humble me and slow the heck down when they talk. Add in alcohol (consumed by others not me, I actually don’t drink much here) and Kazakh and my head starts to spin. There’s also the fact that everyone and their brother is interested in my love life and I am asked about it constantly. I am asked when I will get married, if I want to meet their son, nephew, grandson, cousin, etc. At first I thought it was a little endearing but now I just want to scream at them to leave me alone! And when company comes over that means I’m spending the day in the kitchen, cooking with all the other women in extremely small quarters while the men socialize, watch TV and drink. I like to cook but not when 15 people are coming over. I sometimes resent the gender roles here. And then of course I’m the one to do the dishes afterwards because everyone wants to chat and hang out. Most days I am happy to do all of this, I think it’s just because there’s been so much going on before and after the wedding that I desperately need a break from it all. Just need some me time! There have been days when I think of the libraries and coffee shops I would go to if I needed a moment of space. Here, there’s really no out. It’s been freezing outside and slick with ice, sloppy with muddy puddles, and I can never really “get away” – eyes follow me everywhere. Still, I don’t mean this as a complaint. I am enjoying work and life in general. I’m really just ready for the relatives to head back home.

I thought I’d write about the small cultural differences that I’ve noticed over time but never have been huge things to write about. I’ve been spending a lot of time at the Kazakh school between helping with English lessons and having my English Clubs. There have been many times I become frustrated about the extreme lack of materials to promote any sort of creative activity or educational aid in the schools. Even paper is a crapshoot. When I ask for markers I get a highlighter. Even the chalkboards hardly hold any chalk. So I find myself getting even more insightful on how to demonstrate certain things with lack of supplies. And when I do make things, people are astounded at my artistic skill. For instance I made homemade valentines to show my English Club how Americans celebrate the holiday. My coworker happened to see me making them and was like wow here’s Michelangelo! I asked him if they did such things in school and he just laughed and said, “Pfff, I went to school during the .” One of my students showed me her artwork after class one day and I asked her where she learned. She said she was self taught and does it in her free time. I asked if they do any art in school and the answer was an immediate “no.” Sometimes it saddens me how much lack of expression is seen here. The former is still very much present in certain things. And I think the stark nature of life here is one example. Another interesting discovery is that girls have to attend a class very much like “Home Ec” in the States except that theirs translates exactly to “labor” where they learn to cook, clean, and manage a home. The boys attend a shop class and screw around (from what I hear). I realize this is just the way things are here, but I can’t help but get mad at their predetermined expectations of gender. Then there’s the issue of scheduling. I help with lessons every Tuesday and Thursday mornings at the school and you would think I would see the same exact classes and teachers each time…wrong! Sometimes there is no class, I’ve been with multiple teachers and classes, and it is not uncommon for a teacher to barge in the middle of a lesson and drag the kids away to some other lesson. Every single day the teachers need to go to their lounge and check their schedules because they are constantly being revised, changed, and dropped. Not even classrooms are consistent. It’s something I’ve learned to adjust to, but the American in me can’t help but feel how inefficient it is. One day I was helping a teacher do reading comprehension tests. One student completed hers and suddenly, just like that, the schedule was changed and the students had to go somewhere else and miss the test. The teacher I was with at the time just shrugged and said “that’s our life.” They say Americans are sometimes overly uptight when it comes to schedules, but it’s definitely true that people here are not ruled by time tables. They are used to last minute changes and are generally much more laid back than we are, sometimes too much. I get annoyed when students stroll in 15 minutes late to a lesson. You can count on at least 4 students coming in late which makes it difficult to teach. I’ve already gone over so much material with the rest of the class and now have to go over it again for the late ones. It’s a battle I know I’ll never win but it still frustrates me nonetheless.

I’ve also noticed people here are just about as wasteful as we are, they just don’t consume as much as we do and therefore have less quantity of waste. But the practice is there all the same. If anything I think it is worse because they have no concept of recycling and trash cans are small and scarce. Therefore bottles, paper, plastic, food, etc. are strewn about outside. A common and unfortunate pastime is drinking. It is recognized as an issue, but little is done about it. The farther north you go apparently the worse it is. As the temperature drops the quantity of alcohol consumed increases…what a way to deal with winter boredom. also has a law against opened containers in public, but it is not enforced. So it is common to see people drinking outside frequently. Sadly, I see this at any part of the day- from to 2 in the afternoon to . One afternoon, I ran an errand for my Babula when I had a down period at work. It was 2 in the afternoon and I passed a group of guys, probably in their late twenties, gathered around a car. As I got nearer I saw that they were drinking and their faces were red and puffy. Suddenly one shouted to me, “Eta Amerika!” (meaning, ‘it’s ’). Apparently I am all of , not just an American to drunk people. Men take pride in their ability to withstand large quantities of alcohol, I want to slap them.

Then there’s the technology craze. Everyone and their 5 year old sister has a cell phone. And these are nice cell phones. They play music, take pictures, play videos, translate, etc. I have the most basic cell phone you could ever find these days and if you were to judge me by my cell phone alone I would be a pauper. You can find nice TVs in every house and BMWs, Audis, and Lexus’ on the street. There’s even a fricken hummer in my village. Yet from the outside some houses look like tin shacks and don’t have toilets or even running water. Strange consumerism choices. But with the cell phones in particular, they have such a presence. They rule peoples’ lives. They are seen during school, they are never turned off, and countless lessons and conversations are interrupted by them. For some reason they don’t have voicemail so people always need to answer their phones. I don’t see why they don’t just call the person back once they are done with their business but that’s just not how it works. At least put the thing on silent or vibrate!

Then there have been some really good moments. Like the time someone told me that God loves me. There’s something about comprehending that in another language that deeply struck me. Or a time when a coworker gave me a hug and said she was happy I am hear and told me I am a great person. People don’t hug here. There’s something about genuine affection and care like that that really hit me. I guess I’ve just gone so long without it. There was another time when a coworker told me in secret she was pregnant. Her face was glowing and I was so excited for her. Again, these are all common things but sharing them in another language made them more profound. I did a lesson on the human body and afterwards played the great game known as “The Hokey Pokey.” People loved it! What made it even funnier is that “Hokey Pokey” sounds like “yolki pallki” which means “stick and twigs” slang for “shoot” here. So people were running around going “Hokey pokey yolki pallki!” Even the handyman at my organization who I think is in his late 40s frequently brings up the hokey pokey and giggles. It’s common for people to make nicknames for people, much like we do, as signs of affection. For example, Irina becomes Ira, Serge becomes Seruga, Yerkinbulan becomes Yerkoshka. Though my name is very difficult for a lot of people (I will always be Maygon), my coworkers have started calling me Meggie. I’ve also been somewhat of a go-to person for computers. I feel like I’m back in 1996 trying to explain to my grandma what the “enter” key does. I was asked the other day how to maximize a window…However all the software is in Russian so sometimes the last laugh is on me.

With all the company we’ve had a lot more “family breakfasts” which actually drive me crazy too. When I do my own thing, it’s usually bread and butter, sometimes yogurt, or sometimes oatmeal. When you eat as a family, breakfast consists of the leftover dinner. There’s nothing like being hungry in the morning and seeing last night’s greasy lamb and slimy mushrooms that are way over salted. Sometimes I would kill for a piece of toast, cereal, pancakes, or a bagel.

This blog became more negative than I intended. In truth, I think I’ve finally adjusted to life in general. But even still, I think I’m in “I need a vacation mode.” I truly do not mean to rag on this country, but provide a description on how life is different.

I am happy to report that my host brother’s wedding was a blast! I’ll admit while I was looking forward to it, I was also a little apprehensive about not understanding a lot and dealing with drunk men. Fortunately, I guess at weddings people are on better behavior! The day started around 10:30 when Rustem came and picked us up and brought us to Almaty. A friend of Irina’s deceased husband came for the wedding as is staying with us for about a week or so, his name is Kairat. When Rustem saw me he said I looked very nice and that I will be stolen. This was meant as a joke and a compliment but I will admit I was a little concerned after that! There’s a custom called bride napping where sometimes the family and friends of a man literally almost kidnap the woman to make her marry the man. Not to worry anyone though because usually the couple knows each other and the woman can raise hell if she doesn’t want to marry the man. But yea, nothing like a little paranoia to start off the day! We got to the city and met up with the rest of the wedding party (minus the bride’s side) which was ready with numerous of white Mercedes decorated with streamers and flowers. I think there were about 8 white Mercedes plus other people’s cars as well. We then traveled to the apartment where Anelia was getting ready. Before Anoir could see his bride, he had to go through a series of obstacles the friends of Anelia had set up. First, the groomsmen and Anoir had to maker percussion with plates, spoons, and bowls outside and sing a song about Anelia. There was also a long series of giving money away throughout the entire day, akin to “buying” the bride. Anelia’s room was at the top of the building so at every floor he had to complete a variety of tasks. First was answering a series of questions about Anelia, then he had to decipher some codes, describe Anelia with adjectives starting with different letters, etc. When we finally got to her apartment there were tons of people crammed around this tiny place so it got difficult to see what was going on. Anoir had to cut out a heart in a big white cloth and climb through it to finally see Anelia. Anelia is a beautiful girl to begin with, but this day she was absolutely gorgeous. She looked like a model; I was in awe how beautiful she looked. Her attire was very similar to brides in . She had a big white dress with a veil, tiara, and white gloves that went to her elbows. Once they were finally united we drank champagne and there was a small table of food laid out.

Next we headed to the mosque to do the official part of the wedding. Only close friends and family were at the mosque and I came prepared with a scarf to wear on my head, like a true babushka J You also have to take your shoes off outside. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t Muslim, there were Russian Orthodox members present too. What I find interesting is that everything was done in Kazakh, and Anoir doesn’t understand Kazakh. So for his own ceremony he had to have Anelia translate! We weren’t in the mosque long. The Mullah filled out some documents, said a short prayer and that was basically it. Then the party separated; the friends of the bride and groom went on a big gallivant around the city while the relatives and older crowd prepared for the reception. First we went to Medeo, which is this big skating rink/stadium up in the mountains. Unfortunately it is under reconstruction to prepare for the Asian winter Olympics in 2014! There we met other friends that didn’t go to the mosque and basically had a wedding tailgate. All of a sudden bottles of champagne, whiskey, vodka and the like were taken from the trunks along with all sorts of food and we drank from plastic cups up in the mountains! As we socialized I was asked lots of questions by the people I didn’t know. It’s a joke among volunteers that our language improves as we drink. I think for me it’s a confidence issue. I get nervous about my grammar mistakes and hate talking in large groups. I'm much more comfortable talking to one or a few people. However, with a little alcohol in the system I am more outgoing and just talk. I’m that foreigner that makes the locals laugh with the Russian slang I know. I met some really nice people and think I made some more friends! After the mountains we headed to the park where I saw about 20 other wedding parties doing the exact same thing we were. It was crazy. There really was no purpose to any of these trips other than to drink and take photos (photographers were hired to follow us around all day) and I guess squire the bride and groom around town. I so seldom drink in this country I was starting to feel buzzed and it wasn’t even the reception yet! Everyone always had an eye on my cup and was sure to fill it whenever it got low (much like with the food). Around 5 we made it to the reception where the rest of the party was waiting. There was a big dance floor with the table from the bride, groom, best man and maid of honor on one side and tables for everyone else on the other end. When Anoir and Anelia came the guests crowded around and threw candy in the air. They made announcements of who sits where and I was basically placed at the table of random people that don’t fit in anywhere else. I was with some of Anoir’s coworkers and bosses who is from and knows English but not Russian, and some siblings of people I know. Though we all left around midnight, those 7 or 8 hours flew by and I hardly remember what happened (not because I was drunk, I just can’t believe it went by so fast, usually I’m dying to finish such family events out of boredom). The evening basically consisted of all sorts of games, dances, toasts, food, and just dancing to a DJ. I discovered dancing with the little tykes is a good way to avoid dancing with strange men. I was often in the center of the dance floor because of being an American “novelty.” Again, normally this would make me shy and uncomfortable but a little champagne made everything a-ok. I danced a lot, took pictures, talked with various people (I was surprised to realize just how many people I actually know), played with the kids, ate, and before I knew it the party was over. There were two big highlights to the evening for me. One was my toast. They announced who would speak in turns, so that they were spread out for the whole event. I had to come to the dance floor and speak into a microphone. I knew most people thought I would stutter some incomprehensible Russian like I normally do for toasts (I usually fall back on “za zdarovia!” which means “to health”). But I came prepared, and not with a Russian toast but a Kazakh one! As soon as I said the first word Anelia’s jaw dropped and I saw some heads turn out of the corner of my eye, shocked faces on my relatives. I earned some major points with this as a lot of people know only Russian, so the fact that a foreigner came and spoke the national language is like a huge sign of respect. The other high light was when I was dragged to the dance floor to participant in some games. Several of us were all given costumes and had to perform different skits. I was paired with my host cousin and some lady I didn’t know. We were given Arabian dancer costumes which I wore over my dress! I mean we’re talking basically a beaded bra with fringe and a flowing skirt. And the 3 of us had to do a little jig in front of everyone. I got a lot of “maladiyets” from people (way to go). I’m just glad they enjoyed it because I felt like an idiot! I was also involved in some other skit where I had to be the sun. I’m just glad I got an easy one. I just stood there twitching my fingers to demonstrate sunlight haha.

When came it was like the magic hour where everyone started to get ready to leave. As usual, everyone tries to hoard all the left over food and such into their bags. This seems so terribly tacky to me and I get such a kick out of it. It’s greed at its finest. I was actually a little bummed, I was ready for the long haul but the party was over and we headed home. I was surprised to find that Anoir and Anelia would spend the night with us, and not somewhere nicer, or even alone. So I slept on the floor in a room with Rustem and his wife Ina while Anoir and Anelia were in my room. The following morning we ate leftovers from the previous day and talked about the wedding. Kairat who was by far the drunkest person there (and obnoxious as all get out) started drinking again, even though the rest of us drank only tea or juice. Sure enough by noon he was drunk again and I can’t stand him. He makes me really uncomfortable and now he’s staying with us at least a week. He also thinks just because I don’t always understand what he says that I don’t understand anything and asks Irina to translate things like “mama” or “apple.” He pisses me off because I’m not an idiot. If anything it makes him look dumb. Kairat was the only negative part of my wedding experience. I had a great time and feel privileged to witness their take on the custom.

Double posting today! Hope you can keep up haha. I have forgotten to mention that my host brother will be getting married on Valentine’s Day and I experienced some interesting customs over the weekend. I knew that my family needed to go to Anelia’s family’s house to discuss wedding plans this past Saturday and I thought I would have the apartment to myself. Instead I was told Friday evening that Rustem, my oldest host brother, said I should go and in a matter like this he was speaking as head male of the house hold since Irina’s husband passed away several years ago and it would not be wise to refuse him. I really couldn’t imagine why I needed to go. If they were going to discuss wedding plans I would just be a bother and in the way. However, I quickly realized this was more than a discussion held over dinner. First of all, there are 2 weddings in my family going on. This is a little confusing so stay with me. Alnoir, my second host brother, is marrying Anelia. Anelia’s older sister Ika, is marrying Rustem and Alnoir’s cousin Rustam (Rustam’s father is Irina’s younger brother). So two sisters are marrying into the same family. Though both are engaged, there’s this custom that both families need to go through to make it official. Instead of having two parties for both couples, Anelia and Ika’s family wanted to do them both together. I later found out that I was requested to attend because I am considered like a real sister to Alnoir and I should be present (this almost made me tear up a bit). So Saturday morning there was a bit of a nervous rush around the apartment getting ready for the big day. Irina was fussing over her appearance, nervous to meet the bride’s mother’s approval. Rustam, my cousin, picked us up and also Babula. It was really endearing how nervous he was. Fretting over the fact that the car was dirty, smoking like a chimney, and couldn’t stay still for more than two seconds. What cracked me up was the soundtrack he chose for the hour car ride to his fiancé’s house. Rustam knows English because he listens to a lot of rap. Therefore, this lanky, tall Kazakh/Arabic man a few months younger than I speaks like a gangster from the hood. I try not to laugh when he speaks because I don’t think he realizes the difference, in his mind he just knows English. But he was listening to old school Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre which had profanities every 3 seconds while Babula listened unknowingly in the backseat. After the CD finished he then switched to a much more insightful Alicia Keys.

Right before we pulled up to Anelia and Ika’s home, the rest of the grooms’ family met up so we could all arrive together. We entered the home and were showered with candy (it was literally thrown at us by the handful) and we were expected to pick it up right away for there is some custom where you’re not supposed to leave it on the floor. The floor was set with about 20 pairs of slippers ready for us to use. There was this awkward greeting period for me because I didn’t really know how to introduce myself (I’m the sort of sister of one of the grooms? By the way I’m also from ?). I could tell people were looking at me curiously but there were bigger things to attend to. We were all steered to the dining table which was elaborately laid with plates of salads, bread, meats, cheeses, etc. The shot glasses were quickly poured to start off the numerous toasts to be told. This was the first time the two families were meeting and the house was filled with excitement, nervousness, curiosity, etc. One of the sweetest things I have ever seen was the interaction between the two grandmothers. Both families had one grandmother present, I am assuming the others have since passed on. My Babula is 85, Anelia and Ika’s is 79. However, both are very frail, hard of hearing, weathered with years that look beyond their age and used to being taken care of by the younger members of their families. Within 5 minutes of meeting one another they were instant friends, as if they had been attached at the hip since childhood. They linked their arms together, yelled back and forth so the other could hear even though they spoke two inches away from each other, and took their seats side by side at the head of the table. Despite the fact that about 35 people were there, only certain people got to sit together for this great meal in honor of the newly engaged couples. Most shockingly of all, those engaged could not be present at the table and had to eat the left-overs in a different room with the other children that were too young to sit at the table. This also meant some women could not eat with us since the men took precedent (you can imagine how bad I felt that I was taking up a precious place at the table). It was the duty of the head of each family to introduce the members to the other family. For Irina’s side, it was her brother (Rustam’s father), I am assuming he did this because he was male since he is younger than Irina. He went around and introduced everyone to the host family, including myself at which there was this nod of understanding once my situation with the family was made known. Then the host family was introduced but who I think was the older sister of the brides’ mother. The father I think left the family many years ago and without the grandfather or other brothers the task was left to the oldest daughter. I am not exaggerating when I say we ate for almost 5 hours straight. We sat down a little after and I don’t think we stood up till around 7. I was full after eating what was on the table then beshbarmak was brought out (it’s ’s utmost traditional dish and served at every important occasion or holiday) so I had to eat that too. It was also the first time I saw the sheep’s head, in which it was passed around and everyone had to take a piece (not as bad as I thought but I would never choose it!). Following that there was this other piece of meat that was passed around which was also ceremonial. It was a slab of fat with a piece of horse liver (mmmm!) As usual toasts were made constantly in honor of those engaged, a strong bond between the two families, health, etc. At one point the party burst out in song, going through all the major Kazakh folk songs. There was one in particular in which the grandmother of the brides sang to my Babula by herself. It was so beautiful my eyes welled up with tears. Her voice was beautiful yes, but it was also this strong sense of history and culture that I felt jealous that we didn’t have such a thing. It sounded slightly Indian with some hints of Native American tribal tunes as well. Then people asked me to sing something in English and I was embarrassed (1. because I can’t sing for anything, 2. because again, not having much traditional music I thought to myself “well I can sing nursery rhymes or famous pop tunes….”)

I was asked multiple times throughout the day why I was not drinking. I couldn’t because I was on medication for my diarrhea and was advised not to mix with alcohol for several days. Some seemed astonished that the American wasn’t drinking but I assured them I would on the day of the wedding. We were served yet another meal even though no one had room, but again, manners manners! I seriously felt like I ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner in one sitting since we hardly left the table. Finally it was time to exchange gifts! I think this custom is like a modern take on the bride’s dowry. But instead it was the brides’ family that gave away the most gifts. To Irina and Rustam’s mother they gave jewelry, to the men they gave suit jackets. As the night wore on more people grew comfortable around me and really opened up. I like to think I gave a good impression on the part of Americans, since I know they are sizing me up in such terms. I saved the day in a way as the camera died and I happily told them I would be photographer and make copies with my own. After that I was like everyone’s new best friend, being dragged into photos, given lots of hugs and shovels of candy since they couldn’t pacify me with alcohol. I wanted to take a picture of Alnoir and Anelia and he quickly said, “No! We can’t do that!” Apparently it’s like a bad omen to have your picture taken together before the wedding. This I didn’t understand at all since the two already live together so what’s the big deal if they’re on a piece of paper together? Still interesting to discover different customs though. Even though I didn’t understand everything that went on, or all of the conversation, it was fascinating just to watch the nonverbal things and watch these two families come together. In so many ways it’s just like back home. I think it’s safe to say these two families will get along just great in the future. As much as is a little rough around the edges, once you get passed that I have encountered some of the kindest, most generous and humble people I have ever known. I am really excited to see what the wedding will be like!

I must warn that this post is a little crude as it deals with my prolonged issues with diarrhea. So if you do not care to wish to know about my gastrointestinal malfunction (or over-function for that matter) than jump along to the next post. However, I think despite my issues this story is rather funny so if a little “poo” chat doesn’t bother you, you might get a good laugh out of this. Basically from about the 3^rd day in I have had diarrhea. I expected as much being my first time out of country and my body was in no way prepared for the different things it would consume and endure. However, as other volunteers started to adapt, my diarrhea liked to linger about, as if it were a normal part of my daily routine. I just figured in time things would take care of themselves but after more than 5 months I am still having issues. It wasn’t until about a week ago that I became really alarmed. Maybe I ate something bad, maybe my body was fighting something, or maybe it was due to 5 months of hell gastro intestinally, but I had excruciating nausea, severe stomach pains and I could barely move for over an hour. Slowly my condition got better, but the nausea stuck around the rest of the week. Nausea had never occurred until this point and I figured it was time to see the doctor.

I think I spoke a little of our medical officer in my early posts but allow me to refresh your memory on this man. He is about as Russian as you can get, serving most of his life as a medical officer for the former Soviet Army. He is proud about ’s independence, but his heart is still full of memories of the old republic. It is clear he took great pride serving for his “country” and now that identity is mixed up among several now independent countries. He speaks English well, but with a thick Russian accent and sometimes doesn’t know certain words when you speak to him. He takes his job very seriously but there is always some dry or crude humor to his words and seminars. He is almost bald and shaves the rest of the remaining hair, he has small blue beady eyes and a beakish nose, and a mannerism still reminiscent most likely of his military days that creates an aura of no-nonsense and “don’t mess with me or I’ll kick your ass.” But his power points on STDs and diarrhea were practically creative and comedic genius. He has this way of scaring you stiff about certain health precautions while at the same time making you laugh and putting you at ease at what would otherwise be uncomfortable. When you think about it, the man is brilliant. So when I emailed him in embarrassingly descriptive detail about my bowel movements, he called me within five minutes and asked me to come in to see him. He didn’t sound alarmed but since I live so close it would be best. I arrived in his office and expected to go through some tests right away. Instead he asked me about the OCAP program, the life of my host mother, what I have learned about myself after being here 5 months, etc. After about 30 minutes I started to get uncomfortable, feeling bombarded by questions that had nothing to do with my medical condition. But again, he’s the type of man you don’t dare refuse anything. Eventually he admitted that this was in no way related to why I was there, he was just curious about my life and what I thought of things up to that point. And with that he made me completely at ease again. He just has a way of doing that! So then the fun questions came, asking all about my poop. My favorite was when he asked if the consistently was like porridge. Porridge? I replied, “Well I guess sometimes yes, but other times it’s like a stew with chunks.” After that my mind said, “Wow, you are talking about poop as porridge and stew…” So then he led me to the examination room and did all the basic protocol as in the States. Before I left for PC I felt like I lived in the doctor’s office preparing to take off. And now being almost 6 months it felt weird to be in that setting again. He said everything looked good, no physical symptoms to be worried about. But then I had to do the stool sample. He led me to the bathroom and showed me this tube with 2 small containers inside. Each container had a preservative inside that would keep my poo “fresh.” Because keeping poo fresh is just what you do haha. He then explained all the different ways I might have to use to get my poo in the capsules depending on what type of stool came out. There were also 2 wooden sticks to use for assistance. He told me I would need to take 2 samples and come back to see him. Then my poo would be sent to to be tested at a lab there. I don’t know about you but the thought of my poo being sent halfway around the world is really funny. I mean I don’t think anyone can top that! Was your poo ever sent by mail around the world? Mine was! The tests would be for giardia, which apparently 20% of volunteers in get. It is a parasite, but nothing much to worry about. Just take some meds and things should be okay. The doc also thinks it could be due to the oil content of the food here. He asked me a lot about my diet both here and in the and the main difference is the oil, particularly the sunflower oil that is used here. But I won’t know for several weeks till the test results come. Victor wished me well and told me to return the following week and that was that.

As I left the office I realized I would be going home with a tube containing my poo. I can only imagine what would happen if the people on the bus knew I had my own poo with me. Oh good times! I’ll keep you update on this matter as things develop further.

It’s now my third week working at my new organization and things are moving along pretty well. I find myself a lot busier and a lot more occupied doing things that concern more than sitting at a desk by myself all day. I’m teaching about 14 hours a week plus random help sessions when students or people drop in and an English Club that I do once a week at the Kazakh school in my village. Since my arrival to this country I have been relentlessly asked to teach English. I fought it for a long time, partly because I feel inadequate as a teacher and also because there are education volunteers specifically here to teach English and I’m not in that program. People don’t seem to realize that just because I speak English doesn’t necessarily mean I can teach it effectively but I finally threw in the towel, owning up to the fact that is a battle I will never win. I’ve tried my best to embrace the situation and for the most part it’s been pretty fun. I’m a lot more interactive with a broad range of the community, from adults to teenagers to young children. What helps ease my tension about teaching is the fact that I “team teach” with a member of my organization. Since he learned English as a foreign language he knows better than I how to explain the grammar rules. In return, I correct him when he makes mistakes and come up with creative ways to help make it stick for the students. Starting so many classes has reopened the “ask the American all the questions you can” segment of being a native English speaker living in . So all over again I explain about myself, my family, why I’m in Kazakhstan, what Peace Corps is, if I have a boyfriend, what celebrities I know (or don’t know for that matter), how old I am, why I’m not married yet, did I vote for Obama, about the crisis in America, what I like about Kazakhstan, etc.

There is a rehabilitation center for drug and alcohol abuse a block from my new organization and three times a week the guys come for English lessons. There are 3 guys that are fairly advanced so I work with them alone while my coworker teaches the rest at beginner’s level. The guys were intimidating at first but really nice. They play soccer a few times a week and invited me to play but I told them I’ll wait till the ice that has latched on to every surface outside has melted. I also work once a week with two little boys that have some disabilities and try to use my skills working with autistic children back in the states as a way to help them learn in different ways. They are brothers, one being 3 and a half and the other almost 5. As much as I love working with kids, I definitely have my hands full with these two. They are so young that they run around all over the place and trying to speak to them in Russian is challenging. It keeps me from being able to think and speak quickly at the level suitable for a toddler. But they are adorable and their mother is grateful that I have an interest in them as so many people turn a cold shoulder on those with disabilities here.

So far I have only had one English Club but I think it was a success. I had about 7 eighth grade girls show up and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was so giddy and hyper at that age. They were really fun and so eager to be in my club that I had a good time. At the beginning two girls asked if they could sing me a song and it was really sweet. We played a game where I wrote the name of a famous person on a piece of paper and stuck it to their foreheads and they had to ask yes or no questions to figure out who they were. Things like, “Am I an actress? Do I have blue eyes?” etc. Often they got so excited about the person that the grammar part of the game failed at times but they really enjoyed it. My favorite was when they would say things like “oh she’s my favorite actress!” as if that would help the person out. It also dated me a bit as they were hesitant about knowing Michael Jordan and even Albert Einstein. But no problems with Will Smith, Christina Aguilera, or Brad Pitt. When the hour was up they were sad to leave which then proceeded to me having to take a picture with each and every one of them on their camera phones (yes, camera phones) and then walking home with me. Though I don’t think I could stand much more than an hour with giddy 13 and 14 year olds, they were really fun and more and more I’m feeling more comfortable here. To go along with comfort I was invited to play volleyball with a woman I work with and others. I had been waiting for this moment and jumped on it right away, despite the fact that volleyball was never my greatest athletic venture and I hadn’t played it since I was 14 (aside from a few pickup games in college). I was told to meet at the Russian school and had a hard time finding the gym since schools tend to be former hospitals and are like labyrinths. When I finally got to my destination I found a run down gymnasium reminiscent of one most likely from the 1950’s. There were plumbing pipes exposed everywhere, wooden boards protruding from the floor, and paint chipping everywhere. I had thought that it would just be a pick up game for older people that were interested in playing volleyball but I basically walked into scrimmage practice for the middle school volleyball team. I was a little nervous at first because the competitive side of me knew I wasn’t good and I didn’t want to make people mad by not being good. Had I known I would be part of a practice I most likely would have chosen to stay home. But I was there and I tried to make the most of it. I mean I’m not awful, but I can admit my short comings. The balls were also very old (shocking) and hard as basketballs so after about 30 minutes I was already sore and starting to bruise. I hung in there and was grateful for the long overdue exercise and got to know some more people. The ages ranged from a few women in their 40s or 50s that obviously played frequently and must have been awesome in their prime, myself, and then several young teenagers. But like I mentioned, more and more I’m doing new things and meeting new people and maybe soon enough I’ll make a legit friend here that isn’t another volunteer!

I also discovered my Kazakh name recently. Megan doesn’t translate to anything but when asked what my name meant I replied that in Gaelic it means “pearl, the strong.” Apparently in Kazakh that translates to Маршан “Marzshan.” No one calls me it but I like to bust it out when I’m surrounded by a lot of Kazakh speakers.

This past week was my first week with my new organization. Unfortunately, I still have to share time between the new and old as to not "burn any bridges" in the community. This should only last a few weeks, but it is frustrating and tiring. Nonetheless, I am so excited to be working at an organization that has work for me to contribute to, but also an amazing staff. Instead of being chastized for not being fluent in Russian and hardly knowing any Kazakh, they praised me for my language ability (which has improved since when I first came to the other org naturally) but just the general encouragement is so nice there. This new organization is called "Kazakhstan Leadership Development Center" but the community knows it as the computer center or the Korean Center. My two directors are husband and wife and Korean, so I speak to them in English because they don't know Russian (but they know Korean, Kazakh, and pretty decent English!). Then there's the computer teacher who is a little older than me and only knows Korean and Kazakh. Then there's the staff which all know Russian, with some knowing kazakh also, and a smattering of English. There's one person, Bulat, whom I work most closely who knows English so you can imagine our lunch table conversation starting in Russian, then being translated to Kazakh, and sometimes then translated in English if I didn't catch on. At one point, there was a girl my age who only knew Korean so after the computer teacher had his Kazakh translation, he would then provide it in Korean for the girl. This was her last week though so I don't think I'll hear much korean, though we spent one lunch learning basic phrases. While some may think this is confusing, I marvel at how awesome it is that despite language setbacks, everyone is eager and patient to help. Bulat helps me a lot with Russian so I am continuing to improve and he also helps me with some slang! I have so much respect for the language abilities of people here. Here I come, only knowing English and some French, and most people you come across can speak 2 languages fluently if not 3 or 4. I hope I at least master Russian, and maybe then I can focus more on Kazakh.

As for general work, it's still a process in the making. My new organization knows nothing about the PC so they lack the general training and instruction that most organizations get before the volunteer arrives. For now I will assist in English classses (as always) and I hope once people become more familiar and comfortable with me I will be able to collaborate on other projects. I am in the process of reviewing project proposals also, making sure the English is correct and providing my own feedback and soon I think I will be working with some disabled children. Already in one week I have made more progress than 2 months at my other org! Since I feel more comfortable at the new place, I have been able to let my humorous side come out which has been so much fun as I feel I had to hide it before (both because of language abilities and the company I was with). We had a really cool discussion about how despite our differences, humor is a common language between us. Another plus, they have a kindergarten next door so I will see kids!!! Oh kids make my life here so much happier. Other than my new org, not a whole lot of other news. I am through the thick of the winter to much relief. Every volunteer has said that to make it through the 2 years here, the 2 winters are the biggest obstacle. With our In-Service Training coming up in March in which we will all be reunited again I have much to look forward to! After making it through the first 2 months alone, the next 2 seem like they will go by much faster.

Winter so far has not been as bad as I expected, but also brought some things I never thought to think of. Temperature wise its cold, but it’s not like I get frost bite every time I go outside. During the day it ranges from maybe -10°C to 0°C and night is usually somewhere around -15°C. There have been some days where I even think spring is coming it gets so warm. Compared to some volunteers that are practically in Siberia, my nighttime temperature is their daytime. So it could be much worse for me! I also wear thermals under my pants which is new for me, and wear layers of sweaters and shirts. Life here requires a lot of walking so despite their un-Kazakh appearance, I rock my thinsulate L.L. Bean boots which keep my feet super warm. Then there’s my Eskimo coat I purchased here which is apparently filled with swan feathers and keeps me so warm I’m usually sweating by the time I get to work. When it comes to winter here (at least in my part of the country) the biggest obstacle is not the temperature. The most snow my town has gotten is about 4-5 inches. Compared with the years I spent in Michigan and Indiana, this is relatively nothing. However, they are very selective with plowing (usually only for major roads but there’s still a lot of ice, so villages get the shaft) and I don’t think they use salt at all. So this snow gets packed down by all the cars, buses, and people and the entire ground becomes a skating rink. “Sidewalks” in my village are dirt, so those obviously don’t get shoveled and so many people walk so then it gets packed to ice very quickly. I have fallen on my ass twice, one in broad daylight in front of everyone. The other time I was more fortunate to be only with Irina and it was dark. I have come close to falling probably 30 more times but somehow manage to catch myself. I’ve seen locals fall too. I was surprised to see even in Almaty (which has cement sidewalks) that those were not shoveled or salted either. It’s almost like every person for themselves. I’ve learned to walk differently which I liken to that of a horse. I try to stay on my toes more and stiff leg it…it’s that or fall! PC gave us these things called Yak Traks which you strap on to the bottom of your shoes to provide traction. I have yet to wear them, for fear of more attention to my obvious American-ness.

So when I walk to work, there are many things I need to be cautious of. First I need to dress warm. Then I need to walk carefully as to avoid falling. Third, cars don’t yield at all to the fact that 2 inches of ice are on the roads and they still zoom by. Heaven forbid they need to stop unexpectedly because it would result badly. So I make sure I stay clear of them as best I can. Lastly, the dogs! I fear for my life almost every day walking to work. There are the domestic dogs that are tied up but growl at you ferociously, and the wild dogs that roam in gangs and you never know about them. Sometimes they are so cuddly because they just want some loving, other times they look at you like you’re breakfast. Another volunteer came to the conclusion that wild dogs are better off than the domestic ones. This is because the “domestic” ones are only domestic by the fact that they are tied up in someone’s yard and are given food by the same person every day. But I don’t think they ever get to go inside and just have to sit there all day in the cold, tied up to a pole. The wild dogs on the other hand get to roam around with their buddies and find food for themselves which isn’t difficult because anytime food is left on someone’s plate it is placed in a special container for the “sabaki.” This food is then dumped anywhere outside the person chooses. There’s one road in particular I avoid walking on because of a dog that was 2 seconds away from ripping me to shreds. He was sitting in the middle of the street and gave me this sad, puppy dog look and my heart melted a little bit. Then when I was within 2 steps of him he barked viciously and almost bit my head off. So basically my walk to work and back is a bit of an obstacle course. And then there’s the usual “HELLO!” screamed by some school kid. So my walks are far from boring here…

One thing I’ve always appreciated here is the hospitality. As much as random acquaintances can make me feel extremely uncomfortable at times, when it is welcomed I feel like a queen. It started as a joke that I have 3 mothers; one in America, one in Issyk during training, and now the one I live with in Almalybak. However, that number seems to increase weekly. It is amazing to me how easily people take me in. Part of the reason I feel I have gained weight is because I literally have no control over my own plate of food. Irina lets me do my own thing, but whenever I eat with anyone else they are in control of my servings. As soon as the slightest dent is made on my plate it is quickly filled by someone else (always a woman as the men attend to only the alcohol). The problem is, even if I am so full I am about to burst, it is extremely insulting to not eat someone’s food. So though I had 3 times the amount of food I needed for one meal, I still have to find room to digest more. My mother’s neighbor back home has a friend from Kazakhstan whom I finally met this past week. I could tell my neighbor treated her well during her time in Cincinnati because she told me from the get go she would be like a mother to me. We met at a Mega Center, which is much like a mall, and she made me eat food from the food court even though I was stuffed (yes, Sbarro has even made it to Kazakhstan!) . She then gave me a belated Christmas present even though I had never met her before! I had a wonderful time and am happy to have finally met her. I look forward to seeing her more during these next 2 years. On another occasion, I was invited to eat Beshbarmak (probably the most traditional Kazakh dish) with the family I stayed with in October during my site visit in Almalybak. I hadn’t seen them since and was a little nervous as I could hardly understand them during that week due to the fact that the father speaks ridiculously fast. Being in a village, the two women I work with mostly (Ainura and Clara) both knew the family and asked to come along. It turned out to be one of the best nights I’ve had on my own at site. First of all, my Russian was on fire and I was able to converse and understand so much more than I had 3 months ago. Second, it was just really good company all the way around. I understood the jokes and contributed myself. It probably helped the fact that an entire bottle of cognac was consumed by all of us which loosened me up a bit. And again, the mother thought of me as a daughter even though I only stayed with her family for a week and welcomed me to visit anytime. It was the first night where I feel like I finally broke through a lot of barriers. First of all with the language (even though I still have a long way to go to be fluent) but also general understanding both on my part for locals, and me for them. For the many things that frustrate me about this country, I will never forget the hospitality.

Allow me to update you on all the previous celebrations that took place the past couple weeks. The weekend after Christmas I went to Taldykorgan again which I think is my favorite place to go to in thus far. Basically what makes it so great are all the other volunteers, but the city itself is also pretty cool. First of all it’s clean, there are actual sidewalks and most things are pretty well maintained. What is interesting is that most local people here turn up their nose when I tell them I am going to Taldykorgan, not sure why. I think being so close to Almaty most people consider it the Mecca of Kazakhstan. I mean I’ll take a happy city over an old run down Soviet one any day but maybe that’s just me. While getting together with other volunteers is in itself a fun (and very necessary thing to do for our general well-being) it’s also more of a kinship I guess you could say. Other volunteers are what make life tolerable, and even though we’re all so different and might never have been friends in the States, here we really are like family. Friday night we went to a “pizza” restaurant. I put quotes around “pizza” because most American food here, is well, not exactly what we’re used to. But this particular restaurant was like a piece of heaven. The pizza was good! They also had burgers and French fries which went over well with some of the others. It was amazing how something so simple could make us all so happy. Afterwards we went to a volunteer’s apartment and just hung out for the night. I think about 11 of us rallied together for the weekend. On Saturday we decided to do white elephant gifts for each other for Christmas. We set 1,000 tg limits ($10) and broke of individuals to buy some weird gifts. It’s not difficult to find unusual stuff here, but I was on the lookout for something great. Finally, I came to this table with all sorts of junk (yes, literally junk) for kids. In the middle was a Santa Claus holding a saxophone that said “Merry Christmas.” This in itself I thought was funny and tacky but then I noticed it had a switch and all of a sudden this awful Christmas music came out! It was so off key it was hilarious. The lady wanted 550 tg but I bargained down to 500 which made it all even better. Eventually we all met up in the bazaar and someone got a phone call. For some reason, he decided to talk really loud in English and the hustle and bustle of the bazaar stopped and everyone turned their heads and stared. Normally we get weird glances and the occasional “HELLO! WHAT IS YOUR NAME???” but this was uncomfortable how much attention we were getting so we quickly left.

Later that afternoon we played snow football which was so fun. I was one of two girls that played J I think it was the most exercise most of us have gotten in a while so between that and the cold we didn’t last too long. Still a good time. That night we went to a German restaurant that had burritos (go figure right). But these were amazing too! I think everyone at the table got one so I’m sure the staff thought we were all crazy. We went back to the apartment and exchanged gifts. At first I got a Children’s Encyclopedia in Russian that I was pretty pumped about but someone else snatched it from me. There was one gift left unopened so I went for it and got this big blue cross with the Evil Eye on it. The Evil Eye is a Muslim thing and sometimes you can see it in door frames or windows in houses. It’s basically supposed to protect you from evil things. I find this gift both awesome and creepy. Afterwards we went to a dance club but I’ve noticed there’s this 2 hour threshold when going out in public places. At first it’s really fun and you don’t mind people coming up to you. Then, as people get drunk, the attention is non stop and just annoying. That pretty much wraps up that weekend.

The following week was spent getting ready for the New Year. On Monday, I went to Irina’s staff holiday party at her college. When she invited me to come, I was expecting it to be a spouse type deal but I was the only stranger there. No one seemed to mind. In fact I was some entertainment as people were excited to see I could speak to them in Russian. I saw some guy eying me and heard him ask Irina if I was married. This has become so typical that I have to just laugh at it now. I’m seriously considering buying a ring…The night was fun for the most part but people here really love to dance and it gets uncomfortable. There was a male teacher who looked like the scary guy from the 1^st Ghost Busters movie. He had the white hair sort of combed back with blue eyes that were a little cross eyed under his furrowed brow. He kept asking me to dance and I did a few times but he doesn’t seem to know what “no” means. At one point after refusing numerous times he almost lifted me out of the chair I was sitting in so I finally gave in. I’ve never seen so many dance crazy people in my life!

When the 31^st came around, I spent the day cooking. I was expecting more company to come over but it was just me, Irina, Alnoir and his fiancé for most of the day. By the time evening came around I was exhausted. So much cooking and cutting vegetables into tiny pieces. Irina insisted I make pizza and my “American” salad again which was definitely not necessary when I saw how much other food was prepared. Alnoir gave us his presents and got me a really nice necklace. I was extremely embarrassed when I handed him my gift of a lousy mixed CD I made, oh well. It was really nice of him though. Around 7 we went to Babula’s and ate food. I played with her brother’s grandson, Nurasil, who is the fattest 1 and a half year old I have ever seen. Then we all headed back to Irina’s only to eat more food and by the time we finished it was 11 and needed to get ready to bring out the other food at . As time crouched near I was told to write down a wish for the New Year and place it in a bowl. The TV was on and President Nazerbayev gave some blessings and wishes and then it was ! No countdown or anything but we drank champagne, burned all the wishes, and congratulated everyone. Then I was rushed outside to find that it was like 4^th of July. The entire village was out on the street lighting fireworks and wishing everyone a Happy New Year. It was pretty cool to see the whole place light fireworks together. Afterwards it was like party hopping through the apartment. After 3 hours of this I was pooped and stuffed to the brim. Irina wanted to keep on trucking but I convinced her to let me go to bed. And that folks, was the New Year. I woke up the next morning and it reminded me of the morning after a big college party. Irina was passed out on the couch, there were glasses everywhere still half full of alcohol, and the place reeked of booze. Irina and I chowed on the leftover feast and gave me my present which was a bar of soap and some facial cleansing wipes or “small necessary things” as she put it. Her other son came over that day with his wife and child who stayed the night. Then I got the place to myself for a few days which was wonderful as I was way over stimulated. Watched a couple movies dubbed in Russian on TV, went for walks, and read. I must admit I was expecting a little more from New Year but it was crazy enough for me!

MERRY CHRISTMAS! I’ve gotten a lot of questions about what Christmas is like here so allow me to whet your appetite. First off, the big difference is that people here celebrate orthodox Christmas, which I believe is January 7^th. Consequently, December 25^th is just another drop in the bucket. Moreover is at least 50% Muslim, if not more and therefore a large majority of people here do not celebrate Christmas at all. As Christmas is our biggest holiday, New Years is theirs. So from what I have discerned thus far, they celebrate it much like we do Christmas. They have New Year trees which they decorate with ornaments and throw tacky tinsel everywhere, they decorate their homes with obnoxious multicolored blinking lights that make everything seem more like a disco, and they also exchange gifts (though I believe far less than we give out). So while I am bummed that my holiday will pass with little thought here, I am excited to see what’s in store for New Year.

My host mom, bless her, wanted to have the tree decorated in time for Christmas but despite her best efforts that didn’t happen. For the past few months Irina’s brother and his wife have moved in with Babula (Irina’s ancient mother) and they help take care of her. Every now and then they go back to their own home and spend some time there which means Irina then goes and stays with her. Normally, I try very hard to convince Irina to let me stay in her apartment alone. Babula’s house is just…well…boring. It usually consists of me yelling into her ear because she is practically deaf (when she watches TV she is literally one foot from the screen), watching her eat food with the 3 gold teeth she has left, and it’s also blazing hot in her house. I have slept over there twice now, and both times I think I got about 4 hours of sleep. Nothing like waking up every hour to sounds of moans and gags. So anyway, Irina spent much of the last week over there which meant no time to decorate. We finally came home Tuesday night and Irina promised to decorate the tree so I would have a surprise the next morning (being Christmas Eve). Well, when I woke up I found the tree (fake) in 3 bunches mindlessly scattered on the floor. Instead of being sad I found in comical, pretty much expecting nothing less from . She later told me that she couldn’t find the tree stand so perhaps we will have no tree at all, who knows! She did decorate the living room with the obnoxious lights that I mentioned above and long tinsel dangling from the lights though.

So Christmas Eve I spent alone in the apartment while Irina stayed with Babula. While some may think it’s sad I was alone, I was actually okay with this. As much as I enjoy and appreciate Irina, she drives me nuts sometimes. I am 2 and a half years older than one of her sons and only 1 year younger than the other but she treats me like a 10 yr old sometimes. “Megan! Put your hood up or you’ll catch cold! Megan! Come here a car is coming! Megan! Wear your tights under your pants! Megan! There’s a puddle!” Sometimes I just want to yell at her, “I’m 23 years old I can take care of myself! While I may be a foreigner here, I still have a functioning brain and am able to see and hear what is around me.” I spent the night wrapped in a blanket (and my leopard robe) J and watched a movie, drinking tea. I talked to another volunteer for a while and called a friend back home. So I’d say it was a simple, but good night given the circumstances. Christmas morning rolled around and I decided to say screw it and told my organization I wouldn’t be coming in. Basically, I don’t have work right now and won’t till January after the holidays. So while for Thanksgiving everyone wanted me to impart my culture, they are too preoccupied with New Year to think about Christmas. So this would have meant I would be sitting at a desk on Christmas, studying Russian. I figured I would be happier by myself than around others that didn’t care. If I had something meaningful to do, I would have gone to work but I decided to be selfish today. I have the day to myself while Irina is working in the city. My first gift was a bout of the runs, followed by an encore. Despite a 2 week break, this has been a common occurrence these past 4 months. I weakly went back to bed for another hour or so and woke up ravenous. I decided to prepare myself a real breakfast (not the usual bread and coffee routine) and cooked myself an omelet with red pepper, onion, kielbasa, and cheese. Though this is a standard breakfast by American standards, it was absolutely phenomenal. For some reason I was reminded of Raymond Carver’s short story A Small, Good Thing. I also enjoyed some fresh bread with butter, put the kettle on the stove and washed it all down with 2 mugs of Nescafe instant coffee. It’s weird; people do drink coffee here, but only instant coffee. And since skim milk is nonexistent I added my 3.2% milk to dilute it J (I have been known to add water to my milk before, more mental than anything else I think). Despite the fact that shortly after breakfast another case of the runs came my way and the heat is not working (I have about 4 layers of clothing on), I was in a good mood. I find happiness in writing home, especially for my blog. I feel like everyday brings crazy stories and I can’t wait to share them. So in a strange way, writing to you is almost like being with you in my mind.

Initially Irina wanted me to prepare traditional Christmas food for dinner but I explained that 1) In my family Christmas dinner is usually different every year, and 2) a good number of the ingredients we use are not found here. So instead she told me that she would take me out to a restaurant with her friend/neighbor who also teaches English. Irina told me she would be home around 6 and when rolled around I began to wonder if we wouldn’t go out at all. I spent the entire day in my pajamas and almost didn’t want to go out at that point. Finally Irina returned home and I was told to quickly change and head out. My dad called just as I was getting in the car to leave and though it was nice to hear from him, it made me really sad. I had been preparing myself for a while on how different Christmas would be and almost got used to the idea. However, when talking to my parents I couldn’t escape the reality. My host brother also kindly played a CD with “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” on the way to the restaurant but it brought me to tears. It was the first Christmas song I had heard all season and I really missed being home and my family. Then we got to the restaurant and I tried to put it all behind me (which wasn’t hard once you discover how Christmas night was spent).

So we go inside the restaurant and because it was so close to New Years, they were charging way more just to get into the place so I had to pay 1000 tenge just to get in (about $10). This restaurant is huge! And though there were maybe 30-40 people there, it seemed dead. We sit down at our table and this woman comes up and starts writing our names down. I immediately freak out because I thought she was taking names for karaoke or something but there was nothing I could do. We order some food and drinks (cognac again) and made a few toasts to Christmas, new friends, healthy life, etc. I should mention that all the tables were scattered around this big dance floor and there was a DJ and like a matre D with some serious sound equipment. So while we ate and toasted we had to shout our conversation over the dance tunes. Eventually Irina and Bahut (neighbor/friend) go dance and I was not in the mood to dance with my host mom and drunken old Kazakh men so I stayed at the table. A few minutes pass and suddenly the entire restaurant is on the dance floor, shaking it to ABBA tunes and other random music and I realize I am one of the few people not dancing. At that moment, the lady that wrote my name down announces on a microphone to the entire building to congratulate their new friend, “Megan from ” who is present with them this evening. Now, I realize I don’t look Kazakh or Russian even, but 40 heads all turned in my direction instantly. Not knowing what to do I just smiled and gave a little wave and pretended this situation wasn’t awkward at all. While this was funny and somewhat amusing, it turned out to be such a curse because I was not left alone after that. I was forced to play many lame games in front of the entire restaurant, asked to dance by many drunken old men, and oh the photos. There happened to be a photographer on hand that could develop photos on the spot for a fee (much like a high school dance) so many people wanted to take their photo with me and then would buy me a copy as if I was dying to treasure these moments. I could handle this for a couple hours, but then it just got miserable. I know I am somewhat of a novelty, but I was never left alone. Also, if I don’t want to dance I don’t want to fricken dance! What was even more interesting is that every hour there were certain “attractions.” The first was a Harlem Globe Trotter-like performer who did tricks with basketballs, it was pretty cool. Then there was a Latin dance pair but I didn’t think the girl was all that great. The 3^rd hour a group of break dancers came out and last, was the stripper. I was definitely not expecting a stripper and she was almost completely naked by the end. By that time it was about 1 in the morning and I wanted to go home so bad I almost cried. While it was a crazy Christmas that will give me stories for years, it was not an enjoyable one.

One more funny note to mention; I taught one of my classes “Jingle Bells” and it was basically a disaster but a funny one. Some caught on pretty well; others just couldn’t get the pronunciation down so it was an interesting mix of sounds. It basically sounded like some sort of animal dying. But to my surprise when they got to the chorus they were familiar with it and sang it almost perfectly. Everyone has difficulty pronouncing “the” and it comes out like “ze” so it was “laughing all ze way, dashing through ze snow,” and “jingle all ze way.”

Well, hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and have a Happy New Year. Miss you all and think about you all the time. I am blessed to have such wonderful people in my life and thank you for all the support, warm wishes, and comforting notes.

I usually try and talk about the good aspects of my life; both because that’s my personality and it’s also not fun to hear about the downbeat parts. However, these past 2 weeks have been especially difficult. It started out with just a general feeling of helplessness. It was a bold move for me to join Peace Corps and travel just about as far away as possible from my family and friends. And now that I am here, my counterpart has deserted me (which is both a blessing and a curse…I’ve mentioned his awkwardness in earlier posts), my supervisor is extremely busy and never here, and no one else knows what to do with me. My Russian is okay, but I consider it very elementary so it’s hard to get to know people. There are also some people that only know Kazakh so they’re just about impossible to get to know. So I spend most days studying Russian, going over materials PC provided us with for projects to initiate, talk with the staff, go on the computer (when available), and help teach in the evenings. If it weren’t for the teaching, I might have gone insane. It’s a small feeling of accomplishment that I am doing something and helping others. But it’s been challenging not having work and feeling distant from the people here. Most other volunteers don’t have much work either, PC says the first 3 months are really slow, but they at least have counterparts that work with them and do small things. I have no guidance or local support whatsoever. As for my counterpart, he was the one that requested me but now that I am here has no idea what to do. I constantly ask him what he wants to work on and he can’t formulate thoughts even in Russian. He talks very slowly and quietly (to the point I can’t hear sometimes) and I will sit there for 30 minutes and really nothing of much sense has come out of his mouth. So eventually he stopped coming altogether, but then I discovered he doesn’t even work at my organization. I try so hard to be patient, knowing someday things will all just fall into place and click, but in the meantime it’s really hard to idle time away. I am here to help and have a purpose and I can’t help but feel that I don’t at this point.

So one day, after about 3 weeks of not seeing my counterpart, he comes into work. I was so fed up with what I had been going through that I unleashed some fury on him (and I did it in Russian too!). I told him it’s been a very challenging past couple weeks, I don’t know what to do here and others don’t know what to do with me. He is the one that’s supposed to help me and instruct me but he’s never there and when he is he is of no help. I know he was very adamant about getting a volunteer but now he has one and nothing is being done. So I asked him, “Why do you want a volunteer?” After some silence and a couple attempts of going to a room where we could be alone (which I obviously denied) he replied he wanted to marry me and wanted a future together. He also said some other things that were inappropriate for a working relationship and I had to leave. I was so angry with him for putting me through these hard times and then it turns out his motives are severely wrong. Ainura took me away with her for about 30 minutes and when we were walking back to our building, our security officer stopped us and said my counterpart was going crazy, pacing the halls and going up and down all the floors. When we walked inside he was still there and his hair was disheveled and had a look of devastation. I tried my best to ignore him but he wouldn’t leave me alone. I eventually told him I didn’t want to talk and for him to go away. He was reluctant, but I had lessons to teach and when I finished he was gone. I couldn’t help but think how wrong everything went. I’m here to work and help, not marry a local and bring them back to . Still makes me so mad just thinking about it.

The next morning I called my supervisor (at my organization, not PC) into work and told her about the situation. She basically treated it as if it were a waste of time and didn’t think it a big deal. She then wanted to talk to my counterpart but he is nowhere to be found and won’t answer his phone. So now it’s like everyone is pretending nothing happened. What’s more, the dentist in my building started flirting also, asking when we can go out for a beer even though I’ve refused him a few times before. I can’t help but feel like a piece of meat here sometimes. When I tell some of the women about it they tell me to not let it bother me, don’t worry about it so much. It makes me even angrier when they say that because they don’t seem to understand that I came halfway around the world to come here and work. Moreover, if the men here choose to be aggressive like that, that doesn’t mean the women want that sort of attention. So while they can tell me not to let it bother me, it shouldn’t be something I should have to put up with in the first place (my independent woman streak is definitely coming out 10-fold). Peace Corps is working on the matter but I just want to work with the other organization in my village that actually seems to need help. About a week passed and things finally got resolved with my counterpart. My regional manager from PC came and made people find my counterpart. She had a very lengthy discussion with him and we basically cut ties. However, in the meantime I still have to go to work since we cannot find another organization (there are claims the Korean center is a missionary center and therefore PC cannot work with them) and being so close to the big holiday season moving would be difficult. So nothing of consequence will be handled till January or later. I am at least a little bit more hopeful since things being attempted. I’ve never felt so exasperated in my life but I just hope I’m through the worst.

I have officially been in Almalybak for over a month now and I am starting to feel the negative affects of being abroad and away from home. For whatever reason, last week was just bad and really tough on me mentally and emotionally. I usually try to be optimistic about things, but I couldn’t help but think I will never have any direction working at my organization and I may never figure things out. Moreover, every volunteer goes through this period but its almost worse knowing this is normal. It’s only been a month and they say the first 3 are the most difficult. I know I can handle 2 more months of this uncertainty but I am really not looking forward to it in the slightest bit. I just wish someone here would step to the plate and say “You’re here, this is what we’re going to do.” But instead that will probably have to be me, and I need to figure out what I can contribute since no one else seems to know what to do with me. It’s just one more thing to make me feel lonely sometimes. I know many other volunteers don’t necessarily have work either but they at least have direction from others in their organizations. Things would be a lot easier if I were a teacher here. One positive thing, there is a community center in my village run by a Korean group that does more community outreach (I wondered why this wasn’t the organization PC placed me with). I went in just to introduce myself and say hello, and if they were open to it, that I would like to help them in any way that I can. I am hoping I can use this center as my secondary project since we are supposed to have 2. For some volunteers, the secondary becomes more like their primary and maybe that can happen for me. It’s still early, and I don’t want to cut any ties with my present organization so we’ll see.

December 8^th was a religious holiday so I had a 3 day weekend. It was cool to experience my first holiday here. I wasn’t expecting there to be a big celebration because I had not heard much about this holiday (I think it is called Kurban Aid). However, there were about 15 people at Irina’s mother’s house and I don’t think I have ever seen so much food on a single table before. As part of the holiday, a lamb was slaughtered and sacrificed (I didn’t get to witness this though). Earlier in the day I was walking around and as I passed the homes I saw men dragging sheep out of their cars. It was so interesting to see so many people take on this ritual and know what was happening. I must admit, the lamb was delicious! There were plates of it along with boiled potatoes and vegetables, plates of fresh fruit, cheese and sausage, nuts and dried fruit, various vegetable salads, and oh my the plates of bread. sure loves its bread and there are so many different kinds and I’m still learning all the different names for them. There is one kind that the volunteers love to joke about because it sounds very much like “ball sack” only its “baw sack.” It’s like a soft roll only fried instead of baked, then there’s a flat round bread much like a funnel cake minus the powdered sugar, not a big fan of this one. And there are other kinds that have different things inside like potato, meat, or apples. I could continue but you get the idea. But there were about 5 plates of bread alone on this table. Once everyone sat down, Babula (term of endearment for grandma) said a prayer and my host family joked I became Muslim because I held my hands out like everyone else did as a sign of respect. You basically just hold your hands out in front of you, so that the fingers of one hand lay on top of the other hands fingers and you bow your head a little bit. Then after the prayer is finished you make this sweeping motion with your hands as if you are splashing water on your face. I really didn’t know what to do, so I just did what everyone else was doing. I don’t know if it was disrespectful or not but there ya go. Afterwards, there were even more plates of cookies and desserts to go with chai, so much food! I was seated next to Babula and Irina’s sister which was pretty funny because I think they were the two most hospitable people there. My plate was constantly being filled with various foods and Babula told me I need to gain 2 kilos which I thought was funny because that’s basically a pound. What surprised me is that people didn’t really hang out like we do on our holidays. It was like people just showed up to eat, chatted for a bit, and then headed home with their portion of the lamb that was divvied up for everyone to take.

I decided to make dinner one day and went to the huge bazaar to buy some ingredients. It was overwhelming and also really fun to do on my own. Overwhelming because this place is huge and I wasn’t sure where all the different sections were and there are people everywhere always pushing and hovering to pass by. But once I found the venues I needed it was really fun to ask for things and pay on my own. There were some venues that only had Kazakh speakers so I got to use that too! I was praised for my efforts in Kazakh, getting an extra tomato or tangerine for no charge. It’s not like I prepared anything fancy, just spaghetti, but it was really fun to make. I think partly because I do like to cook and don’t do it very often here, and also because it is a stress reliever for me. I made the sauce from scratch, and also bought LETTUCE because I was determined to get some fresh vegetables and not have to worry about yet another meal with oil and mayonnaise. I also made garlic bread (using garlic for the first time ever) and made my own salad dressing too. Alnoir, my host brother, and his girlfriend were coming over and brought food of their own. When they saw what I was cooking they decided to eat that instead. I was a little nervous when it came time to eat because I wasn’t sure if people would like it, but I was sure excited to eat! Not only did everyone like my meal, but they inhaled it! Irina put some other food that I didn’t make on the table and it was left untouched. Made me happy I had a taste of home J

Irina did my laundry this past weekend and she kept asking me for more clothes to fill up the washing machine. There was a sweater I wanted cleaned but was afraid since it is normally dry cleaned. Irina insisted that it would be okay since she always washes her sweaters in the machine so I decided to let her, really just wanting it clean. Well, I came home later and she said it shrank a little bit but I wasn’t too worried about it, not believing that it could shrink that much. I go into my room and hold it up and it literally could fit a 5 year old (or Delaney). Irina felt really bad and told me she’s buy me a new one. I told her it’s not necessary but I don’t think she listened. I am kind of bummed because it was a nice sweater and I still have 2 years here but oh well! I am curious to see what this sweater she gets for me will be like; it could be a little crazy! I also learned how to make felt from this process…

Irina and I had a discussion about the different personalities of locals and Americans. I know I am different, but sometimes I see people and I think, they look a little like me but everyone knows they are local. How does everyone know I’m American? I could be Canadian, or British, or even German for all they know. It doesn’t matter what I wear they always seem to know. So Irina was explaining that it’s my behavior, my personality. This was a very interesting but also sad discussion. She said that I walk with a bounce in my step and I smile a lot. People do not do this here. It’s not that people are terribly unhappy here, but she says people don’t have a lot to smile about. In fact, when they do see people smile a lot on public they think of them as stupid or crazy. That’s pretty much awesome seeing as I smile ALL THE TIME! Smiling also is used to flirt with men, so basically I think the entire male population must think I am in love with them which is not good as I think most men here are a little creepy. What is funny to reflect on is that my first week here I was the cheery American saying hi to everyone I passed on the street figuring everyone stared and knew I was there to begin with so I might as well embrace the situation. I was quickly told not to do that as you only greet people you know and give a cold, sour face to those you don’t. I think by the time I return home I will be unemotional and impassive… (Yea right!) but it does make me think more about the way I act and just how out of place it is here. To quote Buddy the Elf, “Smiling is my favorite!”

I came home after work one day and Irina was full of excitement telling me she had a surprise. I walk into my bedroom and see a robe on my bed. She had told me a few weeks ago that she wanted to buy me a robe so I would be warm in her house (a robe goes with the slippers here, you’re sort of expected to wear them when indoors). Well I really appreciated this gesture, as I am often cold. But this robe goes just about to my feet and it’s like a leopard threw up on it. It is head to toe leopard print! It’s just another thing to make me laugh at how funny life can be. I feel like an old maid hanging around the apartment in my leopard robe and green slippers from . But hey! I’m warm J

My 3^rd week of work had a better start to it than the previous week. I got a lot of “face” time with some people in my organization and therefore got some good speaking practice. One afternoon, a group of us were having a discussion about astrology (there is a lot of faith in that here…it’s almost quite sad actually). Ainura was walking into the room and yells in front of everyone, “Hey Megan, are you a virgin!” My mouth drops in horror and I freeze, not knowing how to handle this situation. A moment passes and she tries again, only this time saying Virgo. I sigh with relief and playfully show her in my English/Russian dictionary what virgin means and she started laughing so hard she cried. There was also one time we were talking about music and she asked, “Do you like rape music?” Again, I humbly corrected her to say “rap” music and she wanted to know what rape meant since I had such a distinct reaction when she said it. When she discovered its meaning she let out a big “Ohhh” and giggled. I actually enjoy our conversations a lot. I always learn some Russian and it gives me an opportunity to hone her English speaking skills and there’s usually much comedy involved.

It’s been a while since I’ve had one of those moments where I was incredibly off target (i.e. the cheese incident and almost accidentally kidnapping a girl in a grocery store). This one wasn’t as bad but still embarrassing on my part. I was helping teach an English lesson one evening as usual with a group of 7 students around the age of 12 and 13. While Gulszhenar (the teacher) was trying to explain prepositional clauses to the students, the lights suddenly went out. Now this is not a big deal at all here. The power goes out at least once a week if not more. Sometimes it lasts for 5 minutes and sometimes hours or more. I open the door and find that the other classroom has light as well and so does the hallway. Then, this situation became strange since usually all the power goes out. I go find Ainura and some other people to help and we all head to the classroom. The first thing this man does is tap the light switch and the lights immediately come on. Turns out, I had accidentally turned off the lights when I was leaning against the wall. All the kids immediately glance my way and laugh since they knew that’s where I was standing. I was so embarrassed! I made all this stink to Ainura about the lights being out but only in our room and that wasn’t even the case! I’m so used to power outages here that I just automatically assumed that was the case! For a little background info, the light switches are much different here. They’re 2x2 inches and about up from the ground so you often have to bend down to tap on the light. There isn’t the physical motion of flicking the light on and off. It’s like a little tap so they are pretty sensitive. Anyways…ugh! Whoops!

I’d also like to mention my daily soundtrack. I think I’ve mentioned before how much is into pop/dance/rap music here. A lot is English, and a lot is Kazakh or Russian also. Every age, every gender, every ethnicity loves this music. It’s so funny because on Sundays we go to banya at “granny’s” house who is 85 but seriously looks 95 or 100. And even she has the radio jamming to this music! So at work, the internet club jams tunes all day long that can be heard almost throughout my entire organization. While most of the songs are either in Russian or Kazakh I do hear a lot of songs in English too. What surprises me the most is that Kazakhstan LOVES . Now I don’t mean to offend anyone but I’m not the biggest fan, actually I couldn’t stand her. But I’ve learned to tolerate her because there’s really no escaping it. You can also count on hearing Enrique Iglesias, 2Pac (I’m not sure they know he’s dead), and ABBA just about everyday. It’s like a Euro Trance hall 24/7 here. I like just about everything but I enjoy more mellow stuff like Coldplay and John Mayer and it’s almost like they are disappointed when I tell them who I listen to. So then I usually have to add in Justin Timberlake (which is true) to get a response of approval from people. Another favorite past time of mine is explaining the meaning of rap songs to Rustem since he’s not up on English slang. Because he’s only a year older than me it’s not uncomfortable but it’s pretty funny when he wants to know what “make it rain” means. In return he has taught me some slang as well. One of my favorite phrases to say is “яолки паолки” (yolkie powkie) which literally translates to “sticks and twigs,” the equivalent of “nuts!” for us.

I was told on Tuesday that my organization wanted me to cook Thanksgiving for the staff…thanks for the notice! Part of me was really stressed out as this is a big meal to prepare for and I would be doing it completely alone, but the other part of me was really excited to actually be doing something around here and sharing my culture. So on Wednesday Ainura and I went to the huge bazaar that’s a few miles from my village. It was actually easier than I thought to get most of my ingredients. There were a few issues along the way as was to be expected. For one, we couldn’t find a turkey so had to settle on a chicken. However, their chickens are very small and usually already cut up so then we were having issues finding a decent sized whole chicken. We pass a seller with live chickens in a wire cage and Ainura turns to me and says, “We’ll buy you a real chicken!” My first reaction was panic, what the hell am I going to do with a live chicken? But she then explained that the two women in our kitchen would butcher and de-feather it. Once I realized I wouldn’t be involved in the process at all I must admit I was a little excited. How many times in my life will I be presented with this situation again? But then we decided to try another place and buy a chicken that was already dead…phew! I cooked the applesauce on Wednesday and I thought this might be something the people would recognize but I guess I was wrong. Applesauce is not difficult but people kept peering in with a curious wonder at what the heck I was doing. The two women in our kitchen, and Kulash, were very helpful. When peeling the apples, was on her 3^rd and I was still on my 1^st. She’s even beating me at my own meal! When it was time to cook the apples she asked if I needed oil for the pan as I poured water in…oil?! Are you kidding me?! You really do use it in everything here! It turned out okay. I think I cooked the apples too long and the consistency of their apples might be different here too because it was really soggy but still tastes good so I guess that’s all that matters.

Thanksgiving Day I came in around 10 as normal and bee lined straight for the kitchen to get moving on my meal. I was then told that I would have to wait until to start since they needed the kitchen to cool the day’s meals. Что!? (shtow = what) Are you trying to give me an anxiety attack! It turned out to be okay in the end. The applesauce was finished so I wanted to start the chicken, not knowing how long it would talk to cook. Turns out only about an hour because it was really small, only about 3.5 lbs. I am very proud of this chicken as I’ve never really cooked a big hunk of meat like that before. Usually just chicken breasts in a stir-fry type deal. I am also proud of this chicken because I had to remove the guts and everything! I felt like I was back in biology dissecting a chicken. and Kulash looked at me in amazement when I said I didn’t need any of the organs and they excitedly snatched those up in a hurry. As the chicken was roasting I worked on the pumpkin pie. I had my mom email me the recipes for all this stuff and the pie recipe called for a can of Libby’s brand pumpkin. Well, Libby, you