Pure Crop Beaches

Kazakhstan vs. Blogger

2010-01-21T11:00:00.001+06:00

You may have noticed that we haven't posted anything since, like, last year. This isn't the typical "oh, sorry, I've been a bad blogger lately" post. The great nation of Kazakhstan has in fact blocked access to all blogger pages.

"But Nick (and Corinne)," you protest, "aren't you still in Kazakhstan? What up?" We're still here. We can access blogger through a proxy site but honestly it's a hassle and doesn't always work the way it should.

This really wasn't a problem until a few days ago. We haven't had things we really needed to write about (wanted to, yes) but now we do. So now you can find us at WordPress which is, as of this writing, still on the "okay for free speech" list of the great nation of Kazakhstan.***

NEW BLOG: twenty7th.wordpress.com

See you around.

***I'll accompany this pettiness with another disclaimer that I never, ever, even in a pinch or emergency, even with a gun to my head or a million dollars in my pocket, speak for Peace Corps, the US Government or any other entity - living, dead, or bureaucratized - besides myself.

Thanksgiving + MST + Thailand!

2009-11-29T16:00:00.002+06:00

So, this past week we celebrated Thanksgiving with 3 other volunteers from Zhezkazgan [Drew, Jamie and Laura] and 2 very patient and curious locals [Katя and Gulzhan]. For weeks now Nick and I had been looking for a turkey. One day about 4 weeks ago, we were at the Yarmarka [an outdoor bazaar] and loe and behold TURKEY!!! But, it was way too expensive for our budget so we waited until the next week and of course she wasn't there... so we waited again and when our friend Girl Jamie was here, from Merke, for Halloween, we saw her AGAIN, but this time we got her number! So, two days before turkey day we gave her a call, and I swear it was about the 15th ring before she finally answered the phone and then... BANG BOOM POW ----> the next day Nick picked up the turkey from her mini van. mMmmmMMMmmmmm

It was a whopping 8lbs, so in all of the pictures it looks very thin, but tiny turkey is better than no turkey. AND it was delicious. =)

So all day on Thursday and Friday Nick and I slaved away in kitchen. We made a variety of dishes including: pumpkin pie with a graham cracker crust, pudding pie that turned into a lava pie, stuffing from scratch, turkey, peanut butter cookies thanks to the Whitis', pumpkin muffins and pumpkin seeds. The other volunteers brought cauliflower and carrots, a REAL salad [with lettuce and mushrooms and walnuts and a vinaigrette], ice cream, wine, juice, and mashed potatoes. It was delicious.

Of course we had an activity... what kind of teacher without a holiday themed activity. AND thanks to Jamie Morris for the brainstorming the day before. =)

Everyone decorated their own turkey hand and now they are proudly displayed on our wall... its cute.

After lunch/dinner and coffee/dessert we played Phase 10. For some reason this was the LONGEST Phase 10 game of my life except for the one where we played with 7 people (and the box says only to play with 6)... lol.

Anyway, since we had 7 people, and I played on a team, so we had to create other things to entertain ourselves during the game.. so we started a skip bar graph: complete with who skipped who and how many times... it was awesome and colorful. THEN, since Drewber is so famous for being pun-ny, we decided to keep a chart of his puns funny-ness over time... all in all it was very amusing, super laid back, and really really nice.

Now we are packed and waiting around for our train to leave. We head to Zhez around 5:40pm and we will be on the road/tracks by 6:40pm. We get into Karaganda tomorrow around 9am and then we're off again around 5pm to Almaty. We'll be in Almaty for MST [Mid-Service Training] until Saturday and then early Sunday morning we will be headed out, by plane, to THAILAND! We will be travelling with two really good friends: Girl Jamie and Andy P. =)

We can't wait to be on the beach... doing nothing. I can't wait to see water, taste food, with taste, drink slurpees [because they have 7-11s], run in 70 degree weather, feel sand, see sun, feel sun, have tan lines, have flip flop tan lines, etc. But, mostly I'm looking forward to doing nothing.

Recently Nick and I have been swamped at site. Between setting up the resource center, the resource center competition, organizing the Christmas Musical at school number 4, tutoring Kazakh and Russian, going into Zhez once a week for Girls' Club, Music Club and Aerobics, and aerobics 2 times a week in Satpaev, not to mention lesson planning and all of our classes... WE NEED A BREAK!

So... we'll be gone for about 3 weeks, but once we get back we will blog about everything. We hope you all had an awesome Thanksgiving and here are a few pictures from ours. We miss you and love you and Happy Holidays!

<3>

NaNoWriMo

2009-10-27T08:53:00.001+06:00

Evidently this has become a pretty large event but this year is the first Corinne and I have heard of it.

NaNoWriMo is funky, Shift-key abusive shorthand for National Novel Writing Month, which takes place every November. The idea is to write - not edit - hard and fast to 50,000 words (supposedly in the vague shape of a small novel) from the 1st through the 31st (or the 5th if you're, um, Ryoki Inoue). While you write, you can go to the official NaNoWriMo site to keep your wordcount updated, trash talk writers from other regions who are (more than likely) absolutely destroying your own word count, or change your Writer's Info picture 200 times in desperate procrastination.

Once you hit 50,000 words, you're done. The idea isn't to create a work of art, the idea is to create. With a deadline. And that's why I think this is something worth a look for everyone. Well, almost everyone. I was really excited and ready to give this to my students (the link was sent to us by a US Embassy rep.) but the word counter doesn't recognize non-Latin scripts. :-/ Can my students write 50,000 English words in a month? Or maybe just 50,000 Russian words without the Cyrillic alphabet? Sure. As long as I give them a 48,000 word head start.

But Corinne and I are doing this. And we're inviting you.

Wait! Hey!

Check out the site at the very least, you lazy bum.

And more importantly:

TODAY IS OUR TWO YEAR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY! :-) We applied for Peace Corps about a month after getting married (although we'd already been together for years) and celebrated our first anniversary in Kaskelen, Kazakhstan a year ago so, as a married couple, we've lived in Kazakhstan longer than we've lived in America. And that's kind of bizarre but we like it. This time next year, we'll be celebrating our anniversary AND our imminent return to the United States of America.

Memory, work!

2009-10-12T14:40:00.000+06:00

Sorry, we haven't called. You thought you had something with us but it seems we weren't as interested.

As it turns out, we just lost your number. And now we're back in touch. So let's get together, have some coffee or something. We've got some things to catch up on.

(what I'm saying is we haven't really been dedicated bloggers, we're sorry, but we also haven't really had dedicated internet so, you know, that's that)

The rambunctious joy that followed us through our first summer in Central Asia squeezed us out like bright blue toothpaste onto the bristly surface of SCHEDULEHELL: SEPTEMBER, SCHOOL, KAZAKHSTAN. In all seriousness, September was really messy. The school schedules here are done on an "oh, you've got five classes this hour? let's take a look at that" basis which makes everybody a little crankier than usual. But we're through it, our local friends (who undoubtedly bear a lot more of that hurt than we) are through it, and we're staring down the barrel of another Halloween here.

Really? Already?

More than that, we've got a new volunteer headed our (general) direction in less than a month. WHAT! Yeah, really. That means that: a.) we've passed our year-in-Kazakhstan mark; b.) we've passed our halfway-through-service mark; c.) we're almost to our one-year-left mark; d.) Halloween! Thanksgiving! Christmas!

This year is already shaping up to make last year look like a belly-full of jellybeans: sweet at the time, kind of crappy in retrospect. We're doing more things we want and fewer things we don't. A very small example: I'm working more with my counterpart (gold!) and less with teachers who aren't interested (super gold!) and Corinne's teaching a whole lot of fitness. Better than this, one Ms. Jeannine Perry (super mom/mother-in-law) has been steadily sending oodles of English-language books for our installment in the Satpaev town library. We don't have an opening set up yet, but it's coming. And it's going to rawk as hard as my music sensibilities did when I was 14.

Even better than this (from a purely self-involved perspective - come on now, we've Peace Corps Volunteers) WE HAVE OUR OWN APARTMENT!!! We moved out of our host family's place a little over a week ago. It was easy - we'd lived with them for almost a year - but it was time. For sure. The only problem is we have way, way, way too much stuff and nowhere to put it. Our kitchen was somewhat furnished, our bedroom was somewhat furnished, our living room - not at all. Barren. So now it's covered in piles of books like "Fundamentals of English Grammar" and <<Детям о Владимире Ильиче Ленине>> ("The Childhood of V. I. Lenin"). But Corinne can do Tae-Bo whenever she wants and I can play my dombrah (almost) whenever I want so we win in the end.

And, as my Russian continues to improve (so, so modestly), my English has taken a nosedive into semi-illiteracy. My fingers barely work on the keyboard anymore. I had to put up an honest fight to keep from typing "orwlakgalsdghl lsdhaga;iet 93" just now.

So here's where I end things.

Hope all's well with y'all.

Пока.

LOOK what we've been up to in the KITCHEN!

2009-09-08T21:00:00.000+06:00

So, recently I have been looking through many, many blogs. Two that I have totally fallen in love with are from jessie... with love and Newly Domesticated. The things I love about these blogs are:

1. sometimes there are really fun recipes to try and most of them are very easy for us to replicate in our Kazakhstani kitchen.

2. they have wonderful pictures and almost every blog post is accompanied with such.

3. they make me feel connected to the world back home.

Sooo.. recently I have been experimenting in the kitchen. Things from: homemade noodles and pasta sauce to homemade peach cobbler [everything being from scratch]. Its funny to me that back home, when Nick and I first got married, my special dish was freakin' Hamburger Helper or frozen pizza and now I'm making freakin' homemade noodles and spending hours in the kitchen. Isn't that nuts?! I suppose it was from the lack of time, which at some points here in Kazkahstan that lack seems abundant.

Here are a few pictures from my adventures in the kitchen:

Homemade Peach Cobbler. Sooo yummy.

Burgers and Fries... SO YUMMY!

3 kinds of pancakes + 2 homemade jams + a dinga

Homemade Tortilla Chips + Our version of Nachos Bell Grande

Ourzhan helping with the Calzones... in her undies!

The Calzone Ourzhan helped create!

Homemade Pretzel-like things

Homemade Tvorak Vereniki

How to Make Tvorak Vereniki!

Well, that's it so far! Don't worry though... we had TONS of peanut butter sent to us from G'parents Whitis and Mom Huber so I am sure we will be making things with that shortly! If you have any idea of things that are easy to make... we are all ears!

Upcoming Events:

-Birthday Friday! We will go bowling with a few locals and the volunteers from Zhez

-Nick heads to Alamty for his first solo trip as a VAC member [he will be gone for about 6-7 days]

-Corinne's first solo adventure at site... yikes!

-Apartment Hunting

-School Schedule Finalization [lets not talk about how much time they've had over the summer to finalize the schedule]

Summer

2009-09-03T11:09:00.000+06:00

Well, summer is over and school has begun so I will briefly recap our summer adventures! Picking up from where I left off, I should start with our travels to Schuchinsk. This is a small city, like Satpaev, full of delicious pizza places and even a coffee shop, so better than Satpaev! We had Russian language camp for 4 days and we travelled to a near-by resort-ish place called Baravoy. This is Kazakhstan's mini Switzerland, but another PCV says its more like Canada. We just thought it was nice to be around water again. Here are some photos from that little adventure...

1. This is a picture from our adventure to the lake with a Russian tour guide [since it was Russian camp].

2. The Zhezkazgan boys [Man Jamie, Drewber & Nick]

3. Of course there were some heated games of RISK in the evening.

4. AND there was some sing-a-long time with all the PCVs one evening. It was very entertaining.

We travelled by train from Schuchinsk to Almaty for our PC Mid-Service Physical.

[Hours logged on train so-far on our trip: 60]

We arrived in Almaty and got a few meds from the PC doctors and had our physicals. One of the most uncomfortable physicals I've ever experienced, but nonetheless we were all fine and continued our journey. First, we stopped in the local [American] coffee shop and then ventured to Pizza Hut [BRAND NEW] and indulged in a meal that was WAY too expensive for our budget. We spent about 3000 tenge on two pizzas and an appetizer. But, it was totally worth it. Then we hitched a marshrutka to Merke for the next leg of our journey, but here are pictures from Almaty:

We finally got to Merke and had summer camp with the Farm Friends for one week. This is by far the MOST fun camp. I mean... the students we GREAT, the games were entertaining, Nick and I got to balance on a slack line which was awesome, the food was delicious, and the company... the company was fantastic. Girl Jamie and I got to catch up on some Grey's Anatomy which was great quality time. Besides camp everyday for about 4 hours, we had some pretty intense card games and we learned 5-hand canasta, which TOTALLY rocks. Camp with the Farm Friends is ALWAYS a good time, but this was just incredible.

Here are some photos:

The next leg of our journey took us to Pavlodar via Karaganda and Astana. This was our first trip to Astana and we happened to be travelling Sagar, one of our PCV friends, for the first time. We arrived in Karaganda, switched beds on the same train and then headed to Astana. Sagar hadn't been feeling well, but it was just allergies so Nick and I weren't too concerned. We ate at TGIFridays which was pretty delicious and then we headed back to the train station to catch our Pavlodar train. When we went out to our train, we saw all of the conductors wearing masks which was a little odd, but hey, maybe its normal... its our first time in the capital. Anyway, we boarded our train and then within 10 minutes of sitting down and relaxing we were bombarded with train conductors and nurses galore interviewing Sagar. They had seen that our passports were from America and so clearly it meant we had swine flu, esp. Sagar who was sneezing a lot. To make a long story short... after a 40 minutes delay, 5-6 calls to the PC Medical Officer, two bleached sheets, no air circulation, and 3 face masks later... we were finally off to Pavlodar.

But, when we finally got to Pavlodar we got to see Jeff Mason!!!! This was the first time, since we've been in Kazakhstan, that we've gotten to see our friend from college! We crashed at his place before the camp started and had awesome chinese food, a great tour of the city getting last minute materials, and we got a DOMBRA! Then we had camp for a week at a hot spot called Bayanaul. It was even more beautiful than Baravoy. We worked with children with disabilities and the was the most REWARDING camp we worked at this summer. The coolest part for Nick and I was that it was mostly in Russian. HOW FREAKIN' COOL IS THAT?! Nick did way better than I did, but still we were able to communicate with these students and their care takers for an entire week and we grew very attached to many of them! We did arts & crafts, morning exercises, nature hikes, games & sports and of course w/ DJ Master Mason there was a discotec just about every night! You could tell these kids really looked up to Jeff and just thought he was the coolest... after two years I hope our students look up to us the same way.

Here are a few favorites from that trip:

Then, we headed back to Almaty for a camp that was cancelled, BUT luckily for us, our friend Jamie [the girl] extended her camp just so we could still have something to do, since we had the tickets and all. Hours logged on train by this point: 130.

Then... finally... we headed back... well... home-ish. We stopped in Satpaev to do about 5 loads of laundry and then headed back to Zhezkazgan to get settled in Robert's Apartment for a two week camp in Zhezkazgan. This camp was kind of dropped in our laps, but we aren't complaining one bit! The kids we met from Zhez were amazing and we got to work with great volunteers. We did a combination of health, dance, critical thinking, and TONS of arts and crafts. THANKS to the Lions' Club for their generous donation and to my Mom for sending LOADS of arts & crafts stuff and to Man Jamie, Megan Lev, and Jenn B for coming to help Nick and I with this camp. The kids had lots of fun and learned a lot too. This was our last camp for the summer and it was a great way to wrap things up close to home...

Well, that was our summer in a nutshell. It was very rewarding and super exhausting. We had one week to recover once we finally got back to site before school started on the first of September. We are glad to be back in the swing of things and will post later on the new school year once our schedules are finalized.

Thanks for reading! Hope you liked the pictures. So much happened this summer that this doesn't even scratch the surface, but nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed it.

<3 Corinne

Camp GLOW

2009-07-06T10:20:00.000+06:00

Camp GLOW stands for "Girls Leading Our World" and it is a camp for women's empowerment.

I just got back from a 6-day adventure with 6 awesome PCVs, 30 local women, and 2 local teachers/translators. We spent the time together at a camp in the middle of the steppe, all day, everyday. A typical day in the life of our GLOW camp consisted of morning exercises, led by yours truly, breakfast, morning theme/session, arts & crafts, lunch, afternoon breakout sessions, free time, team building games, journalling, dinner, evening activites, shower, and then bedtime. The day started around 7AM and didn't end until we all destressed about the day and went to bed around 12.

It. was. awesome.

I really can't describe the looks on the girls faces when they arrived at camp and didn't know each other and then when they left camp giving hugs left and right... smiling ear to ear... I know they learned a lot about decision making and how to be independent and what gender roles are and how some are healthy and some are not... and many more relevant things to their lives.

So much happened, I feel like it would take me days to explain and write down, so I will just touch upon my top 5 moments.

5. Really bonding with my small group. We made friendship bracelets and they kept saying, "never forget us." One of my girls was from Karaganda (about 14 hours away) and she didn't know anyone, yet, she was one of the best campers and she added so much to the camp. I just really appreciated their openness and willing to learn new ideas.

4. Our fake campfire indoors. Each group prepared a song for Gulzhan, a wonderful local that is breaking through Kazakhstani gender roles and has great potential for the future. Also, we prepared poems for Emiko because without her this camp would not have been possible. I felt like she was the backbone holding us all upright. She woke the girls up, put them to bed... did things that the rest of the volunteers just didn't think of... she is an awesome planner and organizer and wow.. it was just amazing. We also learned "Lean on Me" and these girls could sing... it was really cool.

3. I loved our sessions. We talked about Health & Nutrition, Gender Roles and Kazakh Role Models, Relationships and Decision Making, Sexual Health & STDs and each session was great. Each session really helped the girls understand what the topic was about and in working with small groups we were able to see knowledge transfer come full circle.

2. I loved the down-time we had among volunteers. It wasn't much, but just getting to know each other a little better between the 5-10 minutes of transition time... or during free time.. or just talking before bed. This time was very valuable to me.

1. Last, but not least, the new friends I made. I feel almost like I would have had a totally different experience in PC if these girls I met, the 19s, were in our Kaz 20 group. These girls are just super positive, fun to be around, love life, love learning, love teaching, and love doing what they are good at. Each girl brought different strengths to the table, but we all complimented each other so well that the entire camp just flowed like a well oiled machine. I wish I could have met Kimi, Emiko and Shannon before this camp... and the work that we all did together, Katy and Melanie included, we couldn't have done without each other. I feel very priviledged to have worked with these brilliant ladies and I hope that next year when this is my responsibility that the camp is just as successful.

каркаралы лагерь [Camp in Karkaralinsk]

2009-06-27T12:51:00.000+06:00

Last Friday, Nick and I left for Karaganda by train and really didn't know what would be in store for us for the next week. Once we got to Karaganda we unsuccessfully tried to get a taxi and then headed to the bus station for tickets to a place called Karkaralinsk. We were told by our Regional Maganger that it is a beautiufl place, but that they have never had a volunteer before...

So we bought our bus tickets and we happened to be semi-travelling with our good friend, Girl-Jamie, and so we headed into the city for a bite to eat before sending her on her way to Southern Kaz. Once we got back to the bus station a man was outside shouting, "Karkaralinsk!" and we were like... figures.. after we buy our ticket this taxi man would be right here... and for only 700т, we were told 1000т. Anyway, we waited for the bus and met a really nice girl from Karkaralinsk that spoke English and had the seat next to ours on the bus! How crazy?!

So we made the 3-uneventful-hour journey into the unknown. We chatted a bit with our new friend, played Blokus [thanks to Robert & Emico] and slept цуть цуть ["choot choot" = a little]. Once we got into town we were told by our new friend, "We have arrived," and we got off the bus and were greeted by our host for the week, Svetlana. From the very beginning Nick loved her. He thought she was wonderful and everything, very relaxed and easy going, but I, was skeptical.

She took us to our ride.. and sure enough... it wouldn't start so we had to push it a little... until the engine caught, I guess, and then we were off! We were warned that she didn't speak any English, but it was all good. Our Russian did the trick and with a few, "I don't knows" we were off to a great start! We arrived at the camp and it was HUGE. It is about 20 minutes outside the small town of Karkaralinsk (home to only 10,000 people) and right in the middle of the nature reserve. We were told to put our stuff away and then come to the canteen for lunch.

Svetlana told us there would be 200 kids and we were like WHAT?! We just finished our camp in Satpaev with 60 and we were like OMG that is A LOT. But, when we got to camp we saw... about.. 10. We happened to arrive on banya day so all the kids were getting cleaned up and we also came in the middle of "quiet hour" or тихый час. This hour actually lasts for about 2 1/2 hours, but nonetheless we had arrived right in the middle of it. We were shown to the canteen and then to a VIP [veeep] room and given A LOT of food. Seriously, we were in a constant state of fullness all week. каша [oatmeal w/o the oats] for breakfast, some kind of soup and second course for lunch and some kind of soup for dinner. Nick and I barely ate any of the food in front of us at a meal because we were still full from the previous meal. But, it was great for the kids... who we finally met.... after quiet hour.

Just a little bit about the kids...

They are all from around Karaganda and they are all from what they call, "Children's Home/House." They all have two things in common: 1. They don't live with their parents and 2. They are awesome.

Seriously... by the end of camp I was crying just at the thought of leaving them. I wanted to stay there for more time, but because of a camp this week in Satpaev/Zhez, we had to leave.

Our first and second days were pretty uneventful because they were the kids' days off. So... we just walked around... explored the camp.. it was so beautiful. We went hiking almost everyday around the camp and found some really cool outlooks and just enjoyed being outside. Monday was when the real fun began. We started English lessons with the kids for two hours. They had 2 other classes to chose from too: Russian and something else... Anyway we ended up with about 60 kids again, but just the two of us...

But, it was awesome. The language ability was SOO low that we did a lot of translating and a lot of miming, but by the end of the week the kids were saying, "Good Morning, Good Afternoon, Good Evening, Enjoy your meal, How did you sleep, How are you?" and a few other phrases we taught them for the when the next volunteers came. We played a lot of games and they grew to LOVE Stella Ella Ola, which is just a random song I learned during my MA at CNU, but the kids could NOT stop singing it! It makes me wish the song wasn't just a bunch of nonsense. WE gave them a 10 minute break every lesson and we could hear them outside singing that song and playing the game during the break... it was awesome.

I really fell in love with some of the kids. Don't get me wrong, all of the kids were great, but some just pulled on your heart strings and it was hard to say goodbye. Right now as I'm thinking about this.. its hard for me to describe... what it is... what it was...

Nick and I talked a lot about how different these kids would be if they weren't in this situation. How different life would be for them, especially in Kazakhstan, if they weren't in this situation. You don't know how badly I wanted to just adopt right then, right there. And then saying goodbye was the hardest because you just try to be their friend and then you have to leave them and they ask you not to go... and to stay just a little longer... and that the train in Karaganda will wait... but, in the end, you have to go and get on that train and leave them all behind. But, we asked if we could come back next year and the kids seemed really excited at the possibility of us coming back.

One very special child stood out to me. His name was Stephan. He will be 14 in August, which is the same age as Daniel. I guess he kind of reminded me of Daniel in a way. And everyday Stephan, Nick and I would try to communicate with each other in Russian/English, watching the evening film in Russian, or go to the discotec and dance to Lady Gaga. He was really special to us for the past week and it was really hard to say goodbye.

Here are some pictures of our adventure and of the kids. I hope you enjoy them.

This was where we slept.

The kids LOVED Blokus.

Nick and I on one of our hikes.

...check out facebook for more photos.

NATEK and Summer Plans

2009-06-18T08:43:00.000+06:00

Nick and I just returned [literally 3 days ago] from a teacher training conference in Karaganda called NATEK [National Association of Teachers of English in Kazakhstan]. It reminded me a lot of MENC. MANY MANY MANY teachers, large session groups, great topics, overlapping sessions that you want to go to, etc.

I gave my first presentation ever as a Music Educator. The title was, "Music in the Classroom" and I think the local teachers and the volunteers that attended really enjoyed it. I handed out CDs at the end that Nick and I created together, him playing guitar and me singing. I tried to stress don't play these in your classroom, it is just for you to learn the music.

We have our last week of summer camp in progress right now and we are trying to get train tickets BACK to Karaganda for Friday. We were asked to pioneer a site called Karkaralinsk, near Karaganda [about 3 hours away], so we will be working at a summer camp there for the next week.

When we return, we have Beebos' [our host nephew's] "snipping" party? Again, we are suppose to sing, but what? ... who knows. Anyone know any good coming-of-age songs? He's only 5.

After that party, there is another party for our good friend from Zhezkazgan, Gulzhan, on Sunday. AND after that CAMP GLOW, a camp for women concerning leadership and empowerment. I will be with 7 other volunteers and 30 local girls for 5 days. It will we awesome.

After CAMP GLOW, Nick and I head to Shuchinsk for a Russian language camp and then to Almaty for our Mid-Service Physical. yikes. Mid-Service?!

Then... we head to THE FARM for summer camp with Jamie and the Farm Friends.

Then... we travel toward Pavlodar for some fun with 19s and a few 20s. Again, for camp, but in Russian, which will be awesome and super educational.

Then... back to Almaty for Camp Inspire, led by Jacob. Nick and I are presenting types of music and working with different groups, maybe with guitar and voice.

After Camp Inspire, we head back to Zhezkazgan for a two week camp with good friends in our home site.

We are really excited for the summer and so far it has been awesome.

Picture Post!

2009-06-06T11:17:00.001+06:00

So, Nick and I have been workin' it at Summer Camp for the past week... here are a few goodies:

Day 1: Karlagash [8th form], Mr. Nick, Ms. Corinne, and Meruert [8th form]

Day 1, Game 1: Pass the Balloon under the chin w/o hands Relay!

Day 1, Game 2: SPUD!

Day 1: "Protect The Children" at the Square, Ice Cream for ALL!

Day 2, Game 1: Dress Your Friend Like a Mummy!
Game 2 [not pictured]: Mbube from Merke

JUMP BECAUSE YOU LOVE SUMMER CAMP!

Day 3, Game 2: Water Bottle Relay

Day 4, Game 3: Water Balloon Toss

Looba [6th form], Ms. Corinne, Mr. Nick, Kate [6th form]

Day 5, Game 1: FROZEN TEE

Timur [6th form]

Day 5, Game 4: Scavenger Hunt

Ayan [7th form] asking a babushka for a picture doing "thumbs up" sign

Scores for week 1. Only two more weeks to go....

Last Weekend...

2009-06-06T10:34:00.000+06:00

OK, so things this week have been a little crazy, but Nick and I wanted to tell you about last weekend.

First, we had a nice, quiet Saturday at home and planned on going to the square around 8ish to watch the live performances put on by various schools there. We were just relaxing when all of a sudden our host brother and his wife come over with their kids and just before I was about to take a quick nap, invited us to have dinner in the kitchen... crazy so far right??... just wait..

So we had plov and talked a little Dos translating for Karla and Nick translating for me and then we played a Central Steppe card game and Karla and Nick won for the first time ever, I should have known then that there was going to be something a little off with this day.

During the card game however our host niece FINALLY warmed up to us and was playing with us the whole time... sooo cute.

Anyway, so after the card game it was about 8:15ish and they were planning on going to the square and I was like, "Us too!" [mistake #1], so we accompanied them to the square and got ice creams along the way. I forgot how slow it is walking with a 2 year old. I think we finally got to the square around 8:50 [took us about 30 minutes/when really we could get there in 6]. But, it was a nice walk.

So we get to the square and Dos has to leave for work, but he tells us that we will go to their house and play a Turkish[?] game like backgammon and wait for him to get off work, which should be less than an hour.

Oh! Forgot to mention... on our walk to the square Karla told me it was her birthday the next day [Sunday] and since Nick and I were going to be with our Country Director on Sunday we felt like we needed to do whatever they asked us to do...

OK, so we agreed to play Turkish backgammon we went home with Karla and Ourzhan and the first hour passed... then Karla asked, "Do you have time now?" and Nick and I looked at each other and thought... oh crap... but, its her birthday... so go along with it... and we responded, "Yes, sure."

**Now, it needs to be said that EVERYONE, HCNs [locals] and PCVs alike have been trying to get Nick and I to the club since we arrived in Satpaev. And it looked like this would be the night.**

So, the next hour passed and while Karla got ready and found a sitter for Ourzhan Nick and I looked at each other and how under dressed we were to go to a club. We thought we were just going to the square, and now we were going to a club, for a birthday celebration!

Nick was wearing a sweater he threw on because it might have been chilly, jeans, and flip-flops. He hadn't showered in about 4 days and hadn't shaved in 5. I was wearing a LOFT dress over black pants, also with flip flops that didn't match. We couldn't have looked MORE American.

Finally Dosbol comes home from work throws on a shnazzy outfit and we head out [at 12:00]. [ps. the babysitter they called looked like she'd been asleep since about 7pm]

The first words out of Dos were, "Where do you want to go?" to us... and we were like... "Whhaat? We have no money." We thought we were going to go to a cafe for beers or something... nope.

The second words were, "Let's get into a taxi!" And that was when Nick and I made mistake number 2. I swear we had a telepathic conversation something to the effect of, "Oh crap." "I know right?" "A taxi?" "Can you believe that? Where could we possibly be going that we need to go in a taxi?" And then before you knew it, we were in a taxi and headed for God knows where.

So, we start out going away from the square, which is the opposite direction of the cafes and then we hear, "Let's go to the new club." So we turn onto this really really really dark road... and drive for about 20 minutes into the steppe. Karla keeps saying to me, "Don't be nervous, its ok, don't be worried." There is nothing on either side of us and we pull up to the only lights on the only building around. It is a new club called, "1001 Nights." From the outside it looks very dark, and like no one is inside, but we get out of the car and sure enough there are about 10 people in a room built for about 200. It is 500 tenge for girls and 1000 tenge for mens [as written on the door].

So... we stay and eat and drink and dance for about 4 1/2 hours. I actually had a really good time. Karla and I had a bottle of wine and the boys downed a bottle of vodka. Nick learned some really interesting shot techniques and we did the traditional two rounds of toasts. Nick and I danced to a variety of Kazakh/American Top Ten music including: Lady Gaga, Enrique and Ciara, The Peace Corps Song [one singer is singing in English, the other in a different language and there are a lot of La, las], Flo Rida, and T.I and Rhianna. We assured them again that we had no money and we felt bad because it was Karla's birthday and she/they shouldn't have to pay for everything, but that is how birthdays work in Kazakhstan. If you invite people to your birthday, YOU need to do everything, MAKE everything, PAY for everything, PREPARE everything.

So we finished a meal of cucumber/tomato salad, Greek salad, some kind of fish/beet salad, horse meat, and fruit tray and then it was about 3 o'clock. Soooo... Dos decided we should order beers because we have to stay until 6!

Between 3 and 5 we danced, we met everyone else in the club, we took the traditional, "THEY'RE FROM AMERICA AND WE'VE NEVER SEEN AN AMERICAN BEFORE" pictures and had a really good time just hanging out with Dos and Karla. We really like them. We've been on a lot of double dates with them and they are a traditional Kazakh couple: married young, two kids, want more out of life, etc. We hope that one day they can travel to America to visit us, once we get back.

SO... 5 o'cock rolls around and finally we hear those glorious words, "Let's go home..." and we are like YAYAYAYEE!! So we head outside and sure enough the sun is just coming up. It is actually very beautiful. We were by a lake we didn't even see during the pitch black night and we went down to the lake while they phoned for a taxi.

So we got home around 5:20-5:30 and we were locked out of the apartment by our host mom who left the keys in the lock. Awesome.

After we banged on the door and then finally had to call her to let us in, we went right to bed and got up around 3PM and went to dinner with our Country Director and played a few games of bowling with our awesome city-mates.

It was a pretty awesome weekend. Nick's story is a little different, but I liked it so much I wanted to do it again this weekend. =)

So.. if you are ever in Kazakhstan and some one asks you if you want to go to the square and it is around 8 o'clock, I think you should go dressed for clubbin'.

By the way...

2009-05-29T17:58:00.000+06:00

We remodeled the blog for summer. Happy summer! We changed it several times before finally settling on this, which is about the most "summery" our town has looked thus far.

Yesterday, it passed 90 Fahrenheit for the first time since we've been in Satpaev.

It's Sunny And 75, Feels So Good To Be Alive

2009-05-15T19:21:00.001+06:00

The weather here has been outstanding as of late. The last two nights, it's rained. Today, these big beautiful storm clouds hung over the city like funereal party streamers. The breeze is warm.

On my walk to school, I passed two smallish girls sitting on something like a jungle gym. One was quizzing the other on English vocabulary words.

The doors to the school were locked when I got there. No one was inside. I turned around and watched all the happy people outside in the weather for a moment.

It's so strange to be anything...
It's so good to be alive.

...я не хочу пойти домой...

2009-05-10T12:56:00.000+06:00

Corinne and I have now logged, to the best of my estimating abilities, somewhere around 288 hours on local trains which translates to exactly 12 days. Almost two weeks. On trains.

I actually like trains, in general. They're far more comfortable than the alternatives (horrific buses, horrifically expensive taxis) and are - again, in general - moderately clean and safe. But just a small gripe: TWELVE DAYS OF OUR LIVES ARE GONE FOREVER NEVER TO RETURN.

Many of those hours we picked up quite recently, traveling first to Balkhash for an English language competition and then to Merke for a culture week conference.

Balkhash

...shares its name with the second largest lake in Central Asia (after the depleted Aral Sea) and one of the largest lakes across the entire continent - a lake that was very recently introduced to the feet of Nick and Corinne Huber.

Like Satpaev/Zhezkazgan, the city developed around the mining of copper and Kazakhmys, the largest employer here in Satpaev, is also a major presence in Balkhash.

There are two volunteers who live there - Alex and Christina - and according to Alex the main part of town was designed by a man from St. Petersburg who wanted it to resemble his hometown. The European resemblance is striking and welcome amidst the Stalin-era apartment blocks, especially considering the main street rolls downhill toward the lake between the Vienna-esque rows of yellow and coffee-colored buildings.

We helped out with the town olympiad, a competition that pits English students against each other in two stages: a written test and an oral interview with a volunteer. I was lucky enough to interview a tenth grader who wants to be an economist. We discussed current financial dilemmas for almost half an hour in English. America doesn't have many people who can do that...

Merke

Following a (pointless) 1.5 day return to Satpaev, Corinne and I picked up our buddy Drew in Zhezkazgan and ventured down ol' South America way (er, just...to the south). One of our favorite PCVs, Jamie (not the boy who lives in Zhezkazgan, though he's also great), just moved out on her own not far from the Kyrgyz border and she invited some folks down for a culture week which turned out to be a blast. The kids were eager, genuine, and really put themselves out there during presentations and daily "Olympic games" which featured activities from all over the world, culminating in a 7-team Capture-the-Flag Risk-style world domination free-for-all. We had a great time. And that was just the conference!

While we were there, we also celebrated Cinco de Mayo (homemade tacos and cheese enchiladas), Drew's birthday, my birthday, Sagar's birthday, Jessie's birthday, the fact that Sagar can cook incredible Indian food, the fact that Andy can cook incredible all food, and the fact that Jamie was an incredibly obliging host who fed us french toast with powdered sugar and homemade pizza. We also had a chance to get a taste of the other side of Peace Corps Kazakhstan - the side that includes incredibly beautiful scenery, lush foliage, a sweet dog, and a fascinating old house with a workable pump-well for water but does NOT include any kind of shower other than a banya, any kind of running water that you don't pump by hand, any toilet other than nature or nature with a wooden box over it, or any guarantee that the local police or border patrol won't come stamping into your house every other day. To be honest, I can't say I don't prefer that style. I don't know. In Satpaev, we're so removed from nature - we live on the fourth floor of our apartment building, have no mountain view or even anything interesting in the physical landscape for about 100km in any direction, we don't have a garden or even much grass, the trees are beautiful when they're green but there aren't a whole lot, we have running water and internet and a lot of creature comforts but, you know, the Peace Corps is not about creature comforts. Corinne and I are both certainly grateful to have what we have but I know we could both use a bit more of that "Peace Corps experience."

Jamie can keep the police, though.

Here's a little story about those delightful officers of the law. On Friday, having successfully completed our conference and, further, successfully worn ourselves (and our atrophied digestive systems) out, we decided to take a taxi ride up to the foot of the mountains and have a small picnic. We grabbed a few things and six of us, after some misfires, found the tiniest cab possible and piled in like bricks in an paper envelope. At about the point we were about to get out, our driver said something to the effects of, "oh, you should go here - it's very interesting." Little did we know. We hopped out and waddled over to a little gated gravel road. There were signs on either side of the gate - pictures, so we understood: no vehicles and no alcohol or cans or littering or something beyond this point. We didn't have a car, didn't have alcohol or cans, and didn't plan on littering so we proceded to pass the small gate and meander down the path. To our left, it was in fact quite interesting. There were several little dammed canals with colorful steel bridges crossing them. I have no idea what purposes the little dams could possibly be serving. We headed to the right, toward the mountains. As we were crossing a little metal bridge (plain rust colored), we noticed two men in uniforms following us at an even pace. The second, slimmer one, was carrying an AK-47. The automatic weapon was slightly disconcerting in the somewhat remote surrdoundings but we figured they spotted Americans and just wanted to check our documents. No sweat. We kept on. Finally, we found the river, laid out our blankets, and proceeded to picnic. We didn't get very much time before the uniforms caught up to us. They asked us what we were doing, realized we were American, and asked to see our documents. Having pored over our passports and kartochkas for an unnecessary amount of time, the stout one asked which of us spoke Russian the best. Jamie said something like, "none of us speak it very well." Thinking no one else was going to volunteer, I stood up. Later, I found out that I hadn't volunteered at all - while I was running through the ways this could turn out, the stout one had pointed at me while my head was turned and said, "you, come with me." Corinne, having heard this, protested that I shouldn't go alone and insisted to accompany me. Jessie also stood up and the three of us set out together on an adventure with stout mountain policeman and his gun-toting friend. They took us all the way back to the main road where we'd seen the signs. They pointed to another sign. It was in Kazakh. I explained that we can't read Kazakh. Why he asked for the best RUSSIAN speaker, I don't know - I can only guess he assumed none of us spoke Kazakh (not true - Andy can, though he wouldn't have understood the sign anyway, it being in technical "warning" language) and wanted to translate it for us. So he started talking in Russian and I didn't understand most of the words he was using but I got the meaning - restricted area, we're not supposed to be here, time to pay a fine (bribe). Having deduced this, I proceded to explain that we don't get paid, we're volunteers, work with the government and locals, should be treated as citizens, and therefore cannot pay a bribe (fine). This seemed to register with him, especially after I showed him the back of the kartochka which repeats everything I was saying except it sounds literate. He told us to wait, he had to call his superior and his superior would decide. He left. Mr. AK-47 stayed to...what...guard us? By this time, the other three volunteers had moseyed on back to the road, having figured (correctly) that we weren't going to just dodge this bullet, and Corinne suggested that we not waste a beautiful day and picnic there, near the road. So the five of them plopped down on the picnic, whipped out some dry cereal and a few bananas, and started laughing and having a great time. Meanwhile, I'm standing near a sign that, for all I know, says "ENTER ON PENALTY OF DEATH" with a cop holding an assault rifle. Scarier than that, I'm thinking about my past experiences with the police and at the police station, remembering the snowball of paperwork that grew and grew and grew until I ended up in court being asked to determine the prison sentence of some guy I don't know even after I'd refused to press charges. I was not eager to go down that road again. At some point, I ate a banana. The stout one returned, I called my Safety and Security officer - she didn't pick up. I called my regional manager - she did. She handed the phone to another regional manager who's fluent in Kazakh and I handed the phone to the stout one. They talked. Finally, I was given my phone back and was told that, yeah, we went somewhere we shouldn't have but she had negotiated the fine (bribe) down to only 2000tenge (about $15 - expensive by PC standards, but we just didn't want to pay a bribe). Luckily, right at this moment, my Safety and Security officer called back, talked to the stout one, was told we had to wait for the superior, and hung up. When the superior finally arrived, whoever he was, he came without a uniform but with four other policemen in tow, making 7 of them total. They checked our documents for the 56th time that week. Our Safety and Security officer called back, I handed over the phone, heard a lot of yelling in Kazakh. When the phone was returned to me, the superior looked at me, smiled, and said, "okay, you can go, no problem." I gave him a doubtful look. Then he asked me upwards of ten times if everything was okay. I insisted that everything would be fine. They all hopped in the car and drove back to town. We walked literally twenty feet down the road, turned down a different, unmarked dirt road, and ended up picnicking, at most, 30 yards from where we were originally. I don't know what our Safety and Security officer said to that guy, and I probably never will, but it must have been pretty impressive.

Vacation, Vacation, Vacation

2009-04-06T09:01:00.000+06:00

For the Kazakh New Year (Nauryz) at the end of March, a ton of PCVs head south to Shymkent, Kazakhstan's second most populous city after the former capital, Almaty. For most Kazakhstanis, Shymkent brings to mind some vague notions of lawlessness, excessive drinking, and a weird brand of nationalism. They call it the Texas of Kazakhstan - I know this because anytime anyone tells anyone else they're going to Shymkent, the ubiquitous response is "do you know we call it the Texas of Kazakhstan?" Both Corinne and I were warned several times that Shymkent is supposedly very dangerous...almost exclusively by people who have never been to Shymkent.

But before we experienced the "wild west" (south...) at its finest, we had to travel. There are two ways to get to Shymkent from Satpaev. Either you take a 36-hour train ride that does a giant loop through the eastern part of the country or you hop on the bus of doom. Corinne and I chose the former, our good friends next door in Zhezkazgan chose the latter. (If you want to hear a bit about the bus of doom, check out Drew's "The Red-headed Steppe Child" or Jamie's "Kokpar and Carnivores" in the list of blogs on the right of the page. Both are worth reading. It's a good story.) I like train rides because they're like stolen time - you have no responsibilities other than to get through the hours so you can read all you want, play cards, listen to music, and no one can change that because once you're on the train, you're on it to the end (unless of course you jump...or you end up in another country and they kick you off...but...we try to avoid those circumstances in Peace Corps...). The trade off for this glorious time freeze is the illogically sweltering heat of the compartments but that's negligible (especially compared to the bus of doom).

Needless to say, after 36 hours in a tiny, overheated box with little communication and even littler physical movement, we were pretty excited at the potential of stretching our legs and seeing some friends at the platform when we arrived. Corinne and I bounded off the train, strided across the platform and only had to wait a few minutes and dodge a few persistent taxi drivers before running into...Drew and Jamie. Who live 30 minutes away.

We all stabbed out into the city together, met up with some Kaz-19s to drop off our stuff, and then spent a few days wandering through Shymkent, a city which displayed few signs of its stereotypes. People on the street were friendlier than people in Almaty (who blow you off entirely 99 times out of 100), the food was delicious and varied (without being exorbitantly priced), and no Volunteers were hurt or even threatened, as far as I know. I think a lot of us came out of it thinking of Shymkent as our new favorite place in country (vacation syndrome, I know - the PCVs who live in the south, and perhaps particularly around Shymkent, have to deal with some unique cultural issues on a daily basis - it isn't all lattes and lava cake all the time, but it sure felt that way during Spring Break).

The horse games, kokpar included, were undoubtedly the cultural highlight of the trip, despite the chilly temperatures and wet weather (also despite the fact that I didn't bring a jacket - d'oh!). On Sunday, the actual day of Nauryz, hundreds of people gathered at the Shymkent "hippodrome" to watch bareback horse-mounted wrestling, decapitated goat carcass polo, and a game involving a man, a woman, a horse chase, a whip, and a kiss. We have a bit of footage:

(it'll be here! still working on the transfer...)

We don't really have any special stories to share - it was, in short, just a nice time. Corinne and I would even go so far as to say this was our favorite Spring Break ever - probably a symptom of reflief from culture shock, but relaxation is relaxation. A great deal of credit is due to the folks in the South Kaz Oblast for organizing everything and letting us just relax. Thanks again!

From Shymkent, about 35 of us had to get to Almaty for the Kaz 20 In-Service Training. Having done the train thing already, Corinne and I decided to hop aboard an overnight bus with 25 others. Sadly, we missed the overnight bus actually built for overnighting (with cots!) and were stuck in the back of a regular tour bus (though, in all honesty, we could have been stuck in a marshrutka, which is more like a stripped out minivan, so at least we got the big 'un). We got to Almaty safely but not before off-roading seemingly without reason and for much longer than was comfortable, paying to go to the bathroom in a collection of sheltered holes, and collecting knee bruises from the painfully tight seating arrangements (everyone can vouch for this - from the tiny 5'2"ers up to me, a full foot taller than that). At least we stayed on all four wheels.

Before boarding the bus, I had a nice little personal experience. I was reluctant to sit on the bus and wait for a half hour before having to sit on it for eight hours straight, so I was standing outside the bus when a few Kazakh guys older than me, also reluctant to get on the bus so early, struck up conversation. One of them knew a bit of English, having studied it in school, but for lack of practice had forgotten a lot of the grammar. But my Russian has gotten good enough that, even in a conversation with all three of them, I was able to speak with a fair amount of comfort and ease, occassionally trying an English word or two if I wasn't sure how to get an idea across. Being married and working at schools with English teachers who need to practice their English, Corinne and I don't get very much Russian practice at home so it's always a relief to know we really are still learning.

Anyway, we got to Almaty, had our In-Service Conference, played a disgusting amount of Phase 10, traded a metric ton of music and movies, and got to hang out with a bunch of cool people we rarely get to see. On top of that, we did a huge amount of legwork on our Satpaev English Library & Resource Center project.

And then we came home. On the train. Which means, since our arrival in Kazakhstan last August, Corinne and I have each logged about 180 hours on trains. That's more than a week.

Benin

2009-03-17T16:32:00.001+06:00

I mentioned this in the prior post but somehow it just didn't belong in a post titled "Spring Break" and neither Corinne nor I could leave it there in good conscience.

You may have heard that a volunteer in Benin was recently killed. Corinne and I know very little about the situation in Benin or the circumstances surrounding the incident so we'll let one of her fellow Volunteers give you a bit of information (from kendraheisner.blogspot.com):

As many of you may have already heard, we have had a tragedy here in Benin. One of my fellow volunteers, a second-year teacher named Kate, was killed in her village a few days ago. The details are unclear right now, but it appears to be an isolated incident that does not threaten the general security of the other volunteers here. Of course, we are all shocked and upset at her death. Most of us are in the capital right now for a memorial service and to get updated information on the situation. Peace Corps is working hard to address all our concerns to ensure our safety and enable us to continue our work here in a few days. Kate's family is from Cumming, Georgia, so the story is being reported on Atlanta news. Please keep Kate's family in your thoughts and prayers, but also know that this tragedy does not represent a general trend of violence toward volunteers in Benin.

And (not that this really needs to be said) this doesn't represent a trend of violence toward volunteers internationally, either. If you'd like to read more about Kate and her work in Benin (which certainly can't hurt - judging from the snippet of her blog I've read, she appears to have been deeply in love with the country), there's a nice piece about her here: http://www.boingboing.net/2009/03/14/xeni-on-the-road-in-1.html

Spring Break?!

2009-03-16T18:43:00.000+06:00

Yep. Peace Corps Volunteers (sort of) get a Spring Break, too.

Like many Kazakhstan PCVs, we're headed to the great Texas of Kaz: SHYMKENT!

The city seems to provoke strong reactions in people. I haven't heard too many people say "eh, Shymkent's all right" or "that place is boring." Mostly, it's either "I hate the south it's dangerous, crazy, and dangerously crazy" or "I love the south - it's the REAL Kazakhstan." Which, we all know, means it's probably going to suck in some aspects and be absolutely incredible in others. This is called: "life."

My reason for writing is two-fold: first to let you know that Corinne and I probably will not be blogging again until April and second...to encourage you to do a little reading about Shymkent! Whether it's the "real" Kazakhstan or not, it's certainly one of the most historical places in Kazakhstan, thanks in no small part to its proximity to and influence on/from the Silk Road route. There are a few volunteers posted in or very close to the city itself and some of them have blogs which you can find at www.peacecorpsjournals.com (under Kazakhstan, of course).

Love you all.

Nick & Corinne

Intro to Soviet Film

2009-03-16T08:34:00.000+06:00

The past few weeks, my counterpart has been slowly introducing Corinne and me to the world of Soviet cinema. We've sort of started in the middle (60's and 70's era)...

Ирония судьбы (The Irony of Fate) came up in conversation first among one of my classes but later when we viewed It's a Wonderful Life in our English club for adults and teachers. I had explained that every year around Christmas Jimmy Stewart shows up on American television trying to kill himself and every year Clarence, the wingless little fella, talks him out of it. So, naturally, they asked if we'd seen Ирония судьбы (ih-RO-ni-ya sood-BY) which airs every New Year's Eve/ Day/ time frame.
The story itself takes place on New Year's Eve and centers on the interchangeability of objects (and, finally, and more subtly...people) in Soviet life. It begins with a neat little cartoon in which an architect proudly delivers his completed plans for a beautiful apartment complex to various bureaucratic offices each of which removes a bit of the style of the building, reducing it, in the end, to a box, resulting in identical living arrangements across the USSR. In actual Soviet life, many of the apartments were decorated by the builders (each exactly as the last) and then later could be modified by the inhabitants. But if, for example, two people had just moved into new apartments - one in Leningrad, one in Moscow - the would appear identical. Even down to the lock on the door: one key would open both (this could, obviously, be switched out later...). Further, due to the limited supply of various furnishings and the like, a great number of people had the same bureaus or tables or dinnerware. As we watched the film, my counterpart showed me pieces remaining in her apartment from Soviet days that matched exactly the pieces in the film. Anyway, the plot of the movie exploits this and our hero winds up in the wrong apartment, in the wrong city, without knowing it and the plot unfolds from there.

Here's the beginning, including the animated short:

Yesterday, we returned to Natalia's house for a series of shorter comic films directed and produced by Leonid Gaidai which feature recurring characters (Shurik, the student and Balbes, Byvaly, and Trus, a trio of bumbling crooks falling somewhere between the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges) and more simple plotlines (allowing the non-Russian speakers in the audience a bit of leeway). The films included Кавказская пленица (Kidnapping, Caucasian Style), Oперация <<ы>> (Operation "Y"), Напарник (Work partner), and Наваждение (Delusion).

Here's a taste of the one I liked best, Операция <<ы>>:

Around the Town, No. 2: На Улица

2009-03-13T22:00:00.000+06:00

Most PCVs here quickly learned that, despite President Nazabayev's tri-lingual (English included) Bolashak program/mandate, most Kazakhstani students can't converse in English beyond the most absolutely basic phrases. This is, of course, natural - the most difficult slice of learning a foreign language is always speaking, particularly in the absence of native speakers or a venue of simulated immersion. One of our goals as English teachers, of course, is to remedy this. And already I think most Kaz 20 Education (or OCAP with clubs) Volunteers will tell you they've seen at least a few big changes in their students in the last 3 months at site. But you just can't reach everyone. Satpaev, by American standards, really isn't very big - 80,000 people at the very most - but it's just impossible for two people to reach everyone (which is of course why we integrate and work with the local teachers in hopes of creating a web, etc. etc.).

Anyway, the point is that everyday we run into kids we've never seen and there's a certain, vague routine to the encounters since they're usually excited to see a real live American and to (sort of) be able to speak it. Most days it's great to see energy. Some days - especially in the slush, mud, wind, and ice - it can be a little tiresome. Thus, I give you:

A look at the arc of (English) small talk over time...

(The names used in this entry are posted at random and definitely do not represent anyone in particular be they alive, dead, yet to be born, fictional, made of moon cheese, what have you...)

September 2008
Local Kid(s): HELLO HELLO HELLO!!!!!!!!!
Nick: Hello! How are you?
Local Kid(s): MY NAME IS KUANYSH!!!!!
Nick: Great! Nice to meet you! My name is Nick!
Local Kid(s): I'M FINE!!!!!!
Nick: Okay! Goodbye!
Local Kid(s): Goodbye!

October 2008
Local Kid(s): HELLO HELLO HELLO!!!!!!!!!
Nick: Hello!
Local Kid(s): MY NAME IS SASHA!!!!!
Nick: My name is Nick. Nice to meet you.
Local Kid(s): I'M FINE!!!!!!
Nick: Okay, goodbye.
Local Kid(s): Goodbye!

November 2008
Local Kid(s): HELLO HELLO HELLO!!!!!!!!!
Nick: Hi, how are you?
Local Kid(s): MY NAME IS MEIRBEK!!!!!
Nick: Nice to meet you, my name's Nick. What grade are you in?
Local Kid(s): ...
Nick: Uh, what...form?
Local Kid(s): I'm fine.
Nick: Me too. Okay, bye.
Local Kid(s): GOODBYE!

December 2008
Local Kid(s): HELLO HELLO HELLO!!!!!!!!! MY NAME IS ILNUR!!!
Nick: My name's Nick. Nice to meet you, Ilnur. The weather's nice today!
Local Kid(s): *smile*
Nick: So...how are you?
Local Kid(s): I'm fine!
Nick: Me too.

January 2009
Local Kid(s): HELLO HELLO HELLO!!!!!!!!!
Nick: Привет! Как дела?
Local Kid(s): MY NAME IS DAULET!!!!! I'M FINE!!!!
Nick: Oчень приятно! Nice to meet you! Меня завут Ник. My name is Nick.
Local Kid(s): Uh, you are...from America?
Nick: Yes, I am.
Local Kid(s): I'm from Kazakhstan.
Nick: Yep. Well, it was nice to meet you, Daulet. Goodbye!
Local Kid(s): Goodbye!!!

February 2009
Local Kid(s): HELLO HELLO HELLO!!!!!!!!!
Nick: HELLO HELLO HELLO!!!!!!!!
Local Kid(s): HER NAME IS KRISTINA!!!!!
Nick: Her name?? What's YOUR name?!
Local Kid(s): My name Zhenya!
Nick: My name is Zhenya. My name is Nick. Nice to meet you!
Local Kid(s): I'm fine!
Nick: Okay. Bye!
Local Kid(s): Goodbye!

March 2009
Local Kid(s): HELLO HELLO HELLO!!!!!!!!!
Nick: *discrete wave*
Local Kid(s): MY NAME IS SERGEI!!!!! I'M FINE!!!!
Nick: *discrete wave and mumbled "hello"*

March 2010 (projected)
Local Kid(s): HELLO HELLO HELLO!!!!!!!!!
Nick: Nickamericafinebye.

Interactions with adults on the streets are a little more varied but not much. People generally don't hide their stares but if you say hello to them (in any language) the best you can hope for is an exact replica of what you said mumbled back, but more often they don't speak, just look at you like the complete sociopath you clearly are. In this respect, actually, Kazakhstan seems to represent almost a clean reversal of American norms (speaking as broadly as possible): Kazakhstani's are stone-faced on the street but once you're a guest in their home, complete stranger or not, you are monarch for the day / American's are openly cheerful on the street but, unless you're the best of friends or family on a holiday, a house visit generally consists of small talk with drinks at most. There's something more in that than simply the "speed" of Western life but I'm too sleepy to dig or write any further...

баня

2009-03-02T13:04:00.000+06:00

Since I have been to the баня (pronounced: ban-ya, accent on the ban), or sauna, about five times now, Nick mentioned that I should blog about it... so here it goes!

My first experience at the баня, about 3 months ago, was rather odd. I didn't know quite what was in store and I was told this is a different type of баня. It runs about 1500-2000 tenge for a visit to this particular sauna. But, if you have an awesome tutor, who has an awesome mother, who knows the owner and visits frequently... then you only have to pay 500 tenge (which in US currency is about $3.50).

Okay, so the first visit. I had never баня-ed in Kaskelen because our host family was super Western and had a stand up shower that was really cool, almost like a waterfall and they didn't have a баня... so while our other volunteer friends were being beaten by birch branches needless to say Nick and I missed out on that Pre-Service Training experience.

So my first time... again about 3 months ago, to this sauna, I didn't know what to do... I didn't bring anything that I needed: soap, shampoo, a towel that I wanted to stay in for more than 10 minutes, an exfoliating type of wash cloth... etc. I felt really out of place because I didn't know what to do.. what to bring.. it was awful.. and THEN it was not only for one hour.. it was for THREE hours. I had no idea.

Ok, now for some cross cultural exchange: the баня is a place where there are NO clothes. You change into a towel in a room, kind of like a locker room, and then you walk to the showering facilities. These showers are really nice, but don't forget your flip-flops or sandals! Then after you shower you may use the pool, the wet steam room, the dry steam room, the tea room, have a massage, etc. There is also an exercise room you may use prior to showering.

My first day at the баня, Aziza, my tutor, wanted me to exercise with her, but I didn't bring tennis shoes, but she reassured me that it was ok and that we could run on the treadmill without shoes. Respectfully I declined and said, "следуше раз." Meaning... next time. And I've been running ever since.

Alright, so to cut a long, drawn out story short... the banya is a place where you can go and relax. Be prepared to stay there for a long time. We now go every Sunday from 1:30-4:30 just to have "girl time" and to hang out. Usually I exercise for about an 30-60 minutes, then shower, then steam rooms, then tea, then repeat everything again w/o the exercise.

After the banya you really do feel great... and tired, but a good tired. Like an "I'm going to sleep really good tonight" kind of tired. I try to explain that we don't have anything like this in America... where all of the women just strip down and don't wear clothes for three hours, but it is totally normal to here and super relaxing. Usually homemade face masks are shared and they love any of the beauty products I bring from America. I also think the banya is a great place for integrating into the community. I have met 8-10 very nice women who work at various schools and businesses throughout Satpaev and we have tea now every Sunday. One of the women works at the Music School and so in my broken Russian we communicate about music which is awesome. =)

Nick has yet to experience this banya fun, but I am sure the volunteers in Zhez will take him soon enough. It isn't really something you would want to do alone.... which I feel slightly weird saying.

On a totally different note, Nick and I were on Satpaev TV last night! One of my students came in today and said, "MS. CORINNE! I SAW YOU AND MR. NICK ON TV LAST NIGHT! IT WAS SO COOL." ... or something to that effect. Pretty neat huh?

The Icy Waters We See Below

2009-02-26T22:30:00.000+06:00

As the financial crisis really begins to sink its dirty teeth into our beloved Satpaev, more and more people are going without work. In America, unemployment is definitely bad news, but here in Sat, where most of the employed regularly support their extended families more than we generally do in the States, where most of the work is tied to a single corporation tied to a single product, where the peoples' lives aren't exactly cushy to begin with, barrelling unemployment is a major crack in this thin economic ice.

I don't really want to get into the grim details about possible futures here, or even the grim details of things that are already happening. Maybe later. Right now, my local friends and host family members remain reasonably safe and I can still feel a little lighthearted about the situation (when they forget to bring their textbooks, I can still joke with the kids that the crisis took them...).

And today I was, again, solicited for money on the street.

In the name of science, I give you Chart A:

Yeah, I know. But in all seriousness, let's hope something turns around soon. If you feel like things are getting tight back home (and I know they are - I talk to people, I read the news - but I also know that it's not the Great Depression Part II), remember that you (and I) are lucky enough to have citizenship in one of the richest, most financially secure places in the world.

If you're wondering how I handle those situations, I will not ever, ever ignore someone who is asking for money. I did that twice in Kaskelen and I hated it and hated myself for it afterwards. I have yet to give anyone any money and I don't plan to but, now, I take the time to explain that I'm a volunteer and work without being paid a salary. Not to get all preachy, but no human deserves to be brushed away like dust on a lens. Particularly a human who has already suffered enough to have to ask a complete stranger for money.

Open Lesson

2009-02-25T14:57:00.000+06:00

Well, today was my open lesson.

At first, when I was asked to do an open lesson I was like, "Sure! No problem! All of my lessons are open lessons." But, today, wow.

So... an open lesson is when all of the teachers PLUS the director come to your class and sit in the back of the room breathing down the necks of your poor students. Sometimes, if a student doesn't answer quick enough a visiting teacher will feel it his/her duty to whisper the answer aloud for everyone to hear. Usually open lessons take weeks of preparation as all of the students are required to memorized all of the material they will be "learning" at the lesson.

To put it in the words of a co-PCV and friend, "Open lessons are a farce."

Upon accepting the invitation to teach an open lesson I promised myself I would not succumb to this memorizing of the material. THEN I recieved my lesson theme from my counterpart: Travelling. Oh, and did I mention that she insisted I sing during the lesson as well? Not just one song, but many many songs. Oh, and did I mention she told me this on SAT when my lesson was suppose to be on Friday, but then moved to WED? That's right. Oh Kazakhstan how I love thee.

So just to get this straight, I had 3 days to come up with a lesson about transportation WITH singing. Oh, and did I mention the lesson was for 7th graders... who are a little past the kiddy-sing-songy stage. Maybe fifth, maybe sixth, maybe I could get away with singing songs about buses and trains and planes, but with SEVENTH GRADERS? You've got to be kidding.

Ok, so to cut things short. I planned to do "Hello There, How Are You?" ( a warm-up song) first, and then a color warm-up song (which the kids love), neither one having to do with the lesson theme and then we acted out a play called Magic Mustard (from the book, but adapted by yours truely) which is entirely about transportation. Kudos to my 7th graders because they pulled this play together in 2 days. On Sunday I typed up the 3 page script, on Monday I handed out the parts, on Tuesday we made props and scenery and on Wed, today, we had our open lesson and it is done!

In between the acts I had travelling activities related to the play. The first activity was a "Musical Dictation" and I sang, "Leavin' On A Jet Plane" and they filled in the words. After the second act we had a gigantic crossword and we finished the lesson with a party (just like in the play) with cookies that I made! The cookies were a HUGE hit! Even the director loved them.

But wait.. there's more...

Ok, so every knows American Idol. I can always remember Nick's Mom saying, "Corinne, you should try out." You are probably wondering what does this have to do with open lessons? Well, it is unofficial, but it seems my open lesson was an audition for a television program in Satpaev called, "Two Stars." I have never heard of this or seen this on TV, but apparently it is a big thing here. After my open lesson the director came up to me and started talking about it and my counterpart translated that she wanted me to be on this show with one of my students (it is a show of duets). So, now one of my 7th grade students and I will be singing on this show in English in March.

...what have I gotten myself into?

After the open lesson the students and I were able to celebrate with our small party and LOTS of sweets (that they brought) and we played Heads Up, 7 Up (which really is like crack). They were so excited and it was awesome to watch them shine in front of the teachers and the director. They were nervous because they didn't know all the answers ahead of time like other open lessons in the past, but I reassured them that they could answer my questions without me telling them the answers ahead of time and the lesson went great. The students who were not "cast" in the play took turn taking video while the play was happening, so I will try and load them later.

Of course during the lesson the students made mistakes and of course it was not perfect but in a way it was because this might have been their first positive open lesson experience. They weren't asked to memorize anything, all they needed to do was show up and participate, just like class. I explained to them before the lesson started that I was already proud of them and that this is just for us. It isn't for the people in the back of the room. This is OUR lesson and it is just for fun.

*By the way, this is the class from a previous entry about cheating. The student who cheated is an awesome student and when I was re-writing the script I gave him the part of an ugly, old tree. He was great.

Attached are some pictures!

This was the day we made scenery. This is Amir and his drawing of an old, ugly tree. Can you guess who is behind it?

Before the lesson started I was really trying to rile them up so I shouted, "WOO OPEN LESSON SHOW ME HOW EXCITED YOU ARE!!!!!!" And this is what I got.

That is mustard from America! Yum! Zhenya was in charge of the scene announcements.

This is our Pepperpot Paace where Queen Salt and Prince Pepper live.

This is the Wild Wood were Vinegar Witch's castle situated.

Ayan and Maxim (I will be singing with Maxim on Two Stars). Ayan played the Doctor and Maxim played Prince Pepper. Ayan is wearing Queen Salt's crown. =)

:-(

2009-02-25T14:00:00.001+06:00

Today my scarf froze to my beard.

Peace Corps Week

2009-02-23T21:21:00.000+06:00

That's right folks. It's Peace Corps Week. Seven days devoted to those of us brave (or foolish) enough to dedicate two years of our lives to a country we've, more than likely, never seen before. The work is sometimes difficult and always unpredictable. The Peace Corps website lays it out pretty clearly:

Serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer means 27 months of hard work. It takes determination, flexibility, patience, and a sense of humor. But ... the rewards far outweigh the difficulties.

And the idea is, in the end, after two years of intense integration and grassroots development, the Volunteer will have satisfied the three (deliciously broad) goals of Peace Corps:

Help the people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women.
Help promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served.
Help promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans.

The amazing thing is that, not even a quarter of the way into our service, we're already contributing to these goals daily. In some ways, Volunteers can't help but meet the goals - they're innate in the process of living the way we do.

I think most people think of the Peace Corps in terms of the first goal - the tangible work that's done as requested by the governing body of the host country. In our case, this consists mostly of teaching and teacher training - writing lesson plans, teaching classes, administering student clubs and after schools activities, and working with teachers to develop their language abilities and pedagogical philosophies and techniques. This is the most visible, most tangible part of Peace Corps and the part that goes on your resume following service. But, in my humble opinion, it's only as valuable, not more so, than the bleeding idealism of goals 2 and 3.

Early after arriving in Kazakhstan, I was told flatly (by a Kazakhstani) that locals really aren't concerned with understanding Americans (the basic ground of goal 2) and could generally care less. This has proven completely untrue every day of the week, every hour of the day. Corinne and I are constantly answering questions about America and Americans; everything from "Is America nice?" to "Why has a Native American equivalent of Barack Obama not risen in American politics?" (absolutely impossible to answer in Russian, by the way...) to "How do you celebrate Valentine's Day in America?" Despite locals not being "interested" in us, I'd say we do more to meet Goal 2 on a daily basis than we could possibly do to meet Goal 1 in two years of service.

And Goal 3. You're reading Goal 3. This blog is Goal 3. Everytime we talk to you and you ask about this country and its people and its customs and its ideas and its language and we tell you...that's all Goal 3. I like Goal 3.

So why did we want to do this? Why are we doing this? We get asked this all the time here by Kazakhstanis (particularly when they find out that we work for no salary - the concept of "volunteerism" is completely foreign and totally beguiling to most folks here) and we got asked it a number of times, albeit with a bit more deftness, before we left the States. The PC website, again, gets pretty darn close:

You give and you get. The chance to make a real difference in other people's lives is the reason most Volunteers serve in the Peace Corps.
But that is not the only benefit of Peace Corps service. Volunteers also have the chance to learn a new language, live in another culture, and develop career and leadership skills. The Peace Corps experience can enhance long-term career prospects whether you want to work for a corporation, a nonprofit organization, or a government agency. The Peace Corps can even open doors to graduate school.

From practical benefits such as student loan deferment, career benefits like fluency in a foreign language, and the intangible benefits that come with making a difference in people's lives, there are a variety of rewards for the dedicated service of Volunteers. Rewards that last a lifetime.
And the benefits of Peace Corps service don't end with overseas service. It's an experience to draw on for the rest of your life. As is often said, the Peace Corps isn't simply something great. It's the beginning of something great.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm really counting on those Grad School doors opening but even for Corinne, whose future really has nothing to do with Russian language or teaching English, two years of volunteer service in a foreign country living and working with host country nationals is virtually a resume in itself.

This is not to mention that the friends we make here will change us forever.

People ask volunteers all the time how they do it. How could you leave air conditioning, modern sanitation, movie theaters, reality television, your friends, your family for two entire years? How could you put your life on hold to help complete strangers you would never have to meet, for whom you would never have to feel responsible? How could you hope to be an agent for any real change when you're alone in a community that you don't understand, that doesn't understand you or why you're there? How could you hope to make a difference?

How could you not?

20 Years Later

2009-02-22T11:06:00.000+06:00

Last week, the schools here had celebrations marking the 20th anniversary of the removal of Soviet forces from Afghanistan. Sadly, I missed the student gathering in the auditorium so I can't tell you exactly how they celebrated (though I have reason to believe it consisted of a few readings about the conflict, maybe some students reading poetry or dancing, and then probably very loud pop music).

Anyway, this morning I woke up to this interesting article on the NY Times front page: Poker-Faced, Russia Flaunts Its Afghan Card. It isn't the greatest article ever written but it hits close to home.

And in a small way, I just wanted to flaunt the fact that I can now read the daily news (I hope).

We're On Skype!

2009-02-21T15:01:00.000+06:00

It's really easy to DL and to install and you can call us for free [Skype to Skype]!!

Our username is Rockinsai [Nick may create an account later on].

We hope to talk with you guys soon!

Love,
Corinne and Nick

A Few February Photos

2009-02-21T11:05:00.000+06:00

челобек-паук (Spider-Man) a.k.a Bebos

We made пицца...

and peanut butter!
Actually, we've made peanut butter several times now.

On День Валентина (Valentine's Day)...

we visited Жезказган (Zhezkazgan) to support a bake sale run, in part, by Robert.

Just a little something...

2009-02-20T14:55:00.000+06:00

So today in class, I was giving a spelling test and I am pretty good at seeing if students are texting or playing with their phones and the students know this by now. I usually take the phone and put it on my desk... or if a student's phone rings in the middle of class I answer it and in broken Russian explain that it is classtime which absolutely mortifies the student.

BUT today, ohhh today, I caught a student cheating.

Now, cheating is an interesting thing in Kazakhstan. Paying for grades is not cheating, teachers giving students answers on practice tests (or real tests) is not cheating, students asking each other for answers on tests is not cheating... so how the hell am I suppose to explain to my students that all of the above mentioned things ARE in FACT cheating? I guess there is a special place in my heart for this topic because when I was in the 7th grade I was accused of cheating, by the teacher no less, and I wasn't.

Anyway, so... the first time I caught a student cheating in this class I took her spelling test and ripped it up in front of the whole class and explained that she would recieve a zero and that cheating is baaaaaaad. So today I was FLOORED when I saw a student look at his hand and then copy down the word I had just said. So I called him to the front of the classroom and looked at his hand and all of the students started to laugh. So I took his spelling paper put a BIG zero on it, sent him out into the hallway and then went back into the classroom to finish the spelling test. He was smiling, the kids were laughing... they had thought it was the funniest thing ever. Well, that all changed in a matter of seconds. I took away their bonus on the spelling test, went back out into the hallway didn't see the student... and apparently he had gone to the bathroom to clean his hand and when he came back I told him to stand right by the door and it is amazing what raising your voice ever so slightly does when you are considered the FUN teacher!

Again I addressed the class and we finished the test with the dictation sentances. I asked the student from the hallway to come inside and all of the other students were very upset about the bonus because that is how a lot of them get a 5 (which is like a 100% in my class). I handed out their writing prompt booklets and I had the prompt, "Why is cheating wrong?" on the board. We talked about it as a class and one of the students said, "Cheating is wrong because we don't learn anything." I thought this summed it up perfectly and it actually made me start crying because they KNOW, but they are told by teachers, by peers, that is it OK and they KNOW it isn't.

I don't understand WHY its ok to pay for grades. I don't understand why it is ok for teachers to give students answers to questions on tests if the students don't know them. I asked them.... would you want your doctor to be someone who during school PAID or CHEATED for all of his/her grades and now they have to operate on you? They understand and they wrote about why it was wrong. There is absolutely NO way to make all of the students understand or even care about this especially because it is the NORM. And Nick and I talked about this before and you can't change the norm or else you become an island and you isolate yourself from the rest of your community.

Again, maybe I made it too big of a deal, but while I am here it is just something that I cannot tolerate. I can be flexible to a certain point and on a lot of issues, but cheating and lying are unacceptable and the students are better than that.

*******

On a totally different note the girls and teachers asked for fitness TWICE a week now so we have class again tonight and I think the boys from the 11th grade are going to play basketball with Nick tonight during aerobics. They have been BEGGING me to bring him to school so they can play basketball with him. =)

Nick has his second round of court today so I am sure he will update you on how that went.

We want you all to know that we appreciate all of your support and you are always in our thoughts and prayers.

Love,
Corinne (& Nick)

OMGOMGOMG

2009-02-18T16:47:00.000+06:00

WE HAVE INTERNET IN OUR APARTMENT.

A Week, or, How to Be Superfluously Verbose...

2009-02-17T14:42:00.000+06:00

The last week or so has been a bit unusual. To kick things off, last Sunday, while Corinne was at the sauna with her entourage, I was invited (read: pushed) to go to our host brother's uncle's house to put some computer games on my flash drive and transport them back to our apartment where we would then load them onto the computer originally given to us by the director of my school (our host aunt, incidentally) but that, having two notebooks, we don't need and which therefore will now be used by our host mom and nephew for said computer games. I apologize for that sentence. Once reassured that there was no way I could get out of it, I graciously accepted the invitation and followed my host brother out in the disgusting, slushy streets (that Sunday the snow started melting - the next day it stopped abruptly and has since returned to the usual frigidness). Before going three blocks, my host brother asked me if I wanted a beer. By this time I've learned that when you asks if I want something, what he really means is "you're going to have this" so I muttered yes. What I neglected to understand was that he didn't mean we were going to buy a beer a piece and take them back to the apartment later. And he didn't even mean we'd stop in at a cafe. We were going to drink them while we walked; a fact I realized during the half second it took him to pop the cap off of one and hand it to me. So, here's the thing. In America, this is flagrantly illegal and, aside from that, really in poor taste. In Kazakhstan, it's also TECHNICALLY ILLEGAL. But you know how going 50mph in a 45mph speed limit zone is also illegal...but everyone does it and rarely gets punished? This is like that, except change "rarely" to something approaching "never." Men walk around drinking openly and happily from all sorts of alcoholic beverage containers at all hours of the day (a-l-l h-o-u-r-s, as in nonstop, as in vodka before breakfast). So as I stood there with the beer bottle in my hand, I realized I could do one of several things. I took the easy road - drink it cautiously but as quick as possible and get rid of it, avoiding being rude and avoiding any weird encounters. Fortunately, I did exactly that. Everything was normal, everything was fine, I finished the beer and got rid of it. And I'll never, ever give the police or anyone else that chance to harass the American again. Because so many things could have happened and didn't. I'll take my freebie and walk, thank you.

The next day, we had to make the 1.5 hour bus trip into Zhezkazgan (big city now now...oooeeeooo...big ciittaaayyy...) to visit a posh Western-style hospital called Samsung so Corinne could get the signature of an optometrist on her prescription and get new glasses (her old ones bit the dust in a tragic frames vs. feet grudge match about two weeks back...). After arriving in Zhezkazgan, we walked for another 30 minutes to the only bus station that sends buses out to Samsung and took another 30 minute bus ride to the hospital itself. A delightful 2.5 hour trip, I promise you. We arrived, wowed at the facility's newness and Americanity, and then waited in line. And waited in line a little more. We waited long enough that Gulzhan had time to search the whole hospital for her nurse friend. And then time to spare. It was a fun little trip.

[The above paragraph has been edited by moi, having thought better about posting the details of a specific confrontation which occurred. Which is why the story ends here and is edited rather poorly. Sorry. But it isn't like this post isn't big enough without it...]

But before Monday was over, we had to swing by the Zhezkazgan post office. Earlier in the day, while already in the city, Corinne had gotten a call saying that there was a package waiting for her. She didn't understand quite what the woman was trying to say, so she handed the phone to Gulzhan who told us that there was a package at the other post office in the city which had never been to, a post office on Satpaev Street right next to the big Kazakhmys headquarters. (Aside: Kazazkhmys is the big mining company here. In this region, they mine exclusively copper but they also work from Karaganda and a few other cities where they mine coal and, I believe, lead.) So we took another bus to the second post office, went in, explained to the clerk about the call only to have the clerk tell us that a) there was no package for us; b) the phone number that called was not theirs; c) she had no idea whose phone number it was. Gulzhan suggested we call the number back and find out. We did. After a few minutes of discussion, we learned that the package was waiting for us not in the post office (which would have been too logical) but in the headquarters of Kazakhmys somewhere. We walked nextdoor and sure enough were presented with a package from PC HQ in Almaty which had for some reason been delivered to the office of the mining corporation rather than the post office next door. And that was Monday.
Tuesday night, we had been invited to play basketball at my school with...actually, I had no idea who would be there. But we showed up at 7pm and there were four other teachers there (all female) and one teacher's son (also a student of the school, I think). We warmed up, shot around, and had a blast playing a game without keeping score, just running amok. I don't know any basketball terminology in Russian but hopefully that'll change.

Wednesday morning I went to the Satpaev courthouse. My counterpart had been called by the detective working on my case and told to go to the court where we would fill out the paperwork that stated my intent not to press charges in a legal suit against the notorious cell phone thief. If you're wondering why I'm not pressing charges, it's mostly because I couldn't even correctly identify the guy's nationality which is...pretty sad, to put it mildly, but that's not all. Anyway, I was mostly just relieved to be done with this - dealing with the police can be a hassle when I understand what they're saying. When I don't understand, it's so, so much worse. Well, long story short, it turns out the judge decided he didn't care what I thought and there's (probably) going to be court whether I like it or not. Yesterday, my counterpart talked to the police again and they reassured us to the contrary but I'm not holding my breath. Even if the case goes to court, I'll simply state that I have the phone that was stolen and let the thief off the hook. Ultimately, it's up to the judge anyway. However this works out, I'm still glad I reported it if for no other reason than to send the message to the community that, even for a cell phone, the Americans of Satpaev are going to the police. So, back all ye scoundrels! Etc., etc.

A few minutes after leaving court, the bottom of my right boot split open and snow started pouring in. I knew the boots were cheap Chinese ka-ka when I bought them in Almaty but my reasoning was I only needed them for two winters - at max, what, seven or eight months? I thought they'd make it through at least one of those winters. But no go. I had to buy boots for the second time since coming here. The first pair were 4000 tenge ($33 at that time) and, thanks to the devaluation of Kazakhstan's tenge against the dollar, my second pair (infinitely more comfortable, study, and fashionable), with a price tag of around 7000 tenge worked out being not too much more expensive than the first pair (about $45).

That evening Corinne taught her first aerobics class in Kazakhstan. She'd been afraid that no one would show up and, on top of that, she wouldn't have a CD player to work the music. But both panned out - she had something like 14 teachers and older students, one of whom brought a CD player. And evidently word has gotten around about Corinne's butt-kicking workout and her counterpart claims there'll be even more participants this week.

Speaking of growing participation, our English club for teachers (and other adults, though we're still lacking in that category...) hit an attendance high last Thursday with 14 teachers from both schools and even a few people we didn't know at all. Somewhat unfortunately, we're in the middle of a screening of "It's a Wonderful Life" and this time we got to poor George Bailey's breakdown after Uncle Billy lost the $8000 and ran out of time before it removed the gloom. Not the most inspirational first English club, for sure, but we explained carefully...

Also Thursday night, I gave an open lesson. Don't worry, I can sum open lessons up in one word: doodoo. The idea has some redeeming qualities: teachers gather in a classroom to observe another teacher's novel pedagogical ideas. Sharing of techniques is something I support wholeheartedly and do agree it's best to see it in the real classroom setting. The problem, well...problems...with open lessons is that, particularly in foreign language classes, teachers feel the need to prepare their students the lesson before so that not only do they lose one lesson going off topic, they lose two going off on exactly the same topic. And if the students were really learning in this process, it would still be excusable to miss two lessons to benefit the teachers if the students aren't suffering at all. But the students aren't being taught for these two lessons - they're simply forced to memorize texts and answers in an attempt to "perform" perfectly for the attending members of the faculty and administration. In the end, open lessons bear almost no resemblence to any actual lesson given in Kazakhstan on any given day. How can any self-respecting teacher allow his or herself to be sucked into a situation so blatantly antithetical to the learning process? Well, first of all, open lessons are hardly the only systematic effrontery to education (the grading system, for example, might as well not exist when...gosh, this is at least one post in itself so I'll let it go for now...) but more importantly teachers feel that preferential treatment is given to those who showcase their talents best in open lessons - better schedules, better choice of classes, even so far as salary adjustments. Anyway, needless to say, the only prepping I did for my students was, the week before my open lesson on music from England (the theme I was forced into by the yearly plan was "England" and I surely was not going to talk about the Royal Family's misadventures or, say, the ramifications of England's geography in World War II), I asked them what groups or musicians they knew were from England. They all said The Beatles, someone said Elton John, my counterpart said Sting, and then things got pretty sad. Someone said Elvis, another person said Abba (who, by the way, are absolutely huge here), and, for my classical music question, I got Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart. Granted, England isn't known for its classical composers, but clearly a name like Wolfgang Amadeus isn't English. So my open lesson was 99% new material to them. We learned vocabulary from The Beatles' "When I'm 64", did a listening exercise called a cloze text, and then assembled the lyrics to Coldplay's "Fix You" (chosen for its lyrical simplicity and vocal clarity, not so much as a valid representation of English musical talent...) only by listening and using grammar rules. The idea was then, in the end, to write our own song about England using brainstorming that we'd done earlier in the class. We ran out of time. Such is life when you don't rehearse, I suppose.

Friday was busy too. Not gonna write about it.

Saturday was Valentine's Day! Corinne and I observed two open lessons at my school, went to Zhezkazgan to support a fundraiser Robert was involved with, had dinner at a local cafe, and went bowling with the other volunteers and our friends Aziza and Gulzhan at the second (and much nicer) bowling alley in Zhezkazgan. To be honest, I'm a little jealous that they have two and we have none. Satpaev's surely big enough. We could take the junky one off their hands...
And that's all. Corinne's working through "Crime and Punishment" and I'm getting to the end of "A Confederacy of Dunces" which isn't quite the laugh riot I was promised. But maybe it's the weather.

January 23, 2009

2009-02-13T09:57:00.000+06:00

Things that happened over the past week that have nothing to do with work:

We got a new president. There was news coverage in Kazakhstan. In Russian, of course.

I listened to Hank Williams and Hank Williams Jr. a lot - mama, be proud. You know Corinne is...

Corinne came down with some sort of infection (maybe strep throat?). And I'm working on my own (less severe) version. So, we're both on medical hold and not supposed to leave the apartment.

We got two packages in the mail on the same day: one from Corinne's mom and one from the Glassmans. We've been drinking a lot of hot cocoa. (Still waiting on another package from my mom which has mysteriously not arrived...)

I read the "President Obama" edition of Newsweek (from back in November) cover-to-cover and Corinne's making her way there (thanks to grandparents Whitis).

Corinne destroyed my best minesweeper time. Twice. The new record is somewhere around 250. If you can beat that I want to know your secret.

I "finished" Julio Cortazar's "Hopscotch," a book I've been reading episodically for almost a year and a work you can never really finish. It's a beautiful book, no matter which way you read it, and I encourage anyone interested in experimental writing (all of noooobody...) to give it a try.

We missed my mom's 49th birthday. Which was sad in itself but sadder in the reminder that I'm going to miss her 50th as well.

We missed my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary which...well, it wasn't easy.

Corinne made a bunch of oatmeal cookies. We ate a bunch of oatmeal cookies. And last night, having already eaten four or five over the past hour or so, Maria came into our room and promised that the cookie in her hand would be the last one.

January 22, 2009

2009-02-13T09:53:00.000+06:00

Last weekend, Dosbol and I cleaned the rugs in our apartment. There's one in every room but the kitchen plus a few thin ones that overlap in the hallway. Usually, the floors here are cleaned by vaccuuming the rugs and then scrubbing the hard floor beneath but at least once a winter, when there's clean snow, you takes the rugs outside. You pry them from under the tables and beds and chairs and TV stands, peel them from the floor, and hoist them onto your shoulder like a fireman carrying an empty hose. Then you walk down four floors of narrow stairway, the cheap paint turning you white as your coat rubs against the walls, and shove clumsily through the heavy wooden doors at the bottom and out into the cold. You look for clean snow. You unroll the rugs face down and walk on top of them [probably] to rub the snow into the fibers. Then, using a plastic tool (a crossbreed somewhere between a flyswatter and a sandshovel) you beat the living crap out of them. And every time you swing, the hit's soundwaves echo across the massive Soviet-designed yard and through the windows of every neighbor in a four block radius. The dirt comes out, you see it in the snow, and you lift the rugs again, carry them to anything permanently upright and nearby (in our case, a few small pieces of playground equipment), drape them over top, and, to rid the fibers of that pesky snow - you guessed it - beat the living crap out of them all over again. Repeat until all rugs are cleaned. Then, you carry all of them back up the four floors of narrow stairway, through the apartment door, and plop them back down on the floors (having just been scrubbed by the womenfolk) where they belong.

Godspeed in all your rug-cleaning excursions.

January 31, 2009

2009-02-12T13:54:00.000+06:00

So I have been waiting to want to write for a long time. I think it took me so long because I wanted to go home so bad, but with all of the support Nick and I have been receiving it is even hard to consider it as an option anymore.

A few interesting things happened to me yesterday at school. First, I had my first Spelling Bee with my 7th graders on all of the words that we have had tests on since December (about 60 words) and they were awesome! They really liked it because they had to think back a long time and they had to spell with the English alphabet, not the Cyrillic. Also, it was interesting because the best students were not the ones left standing. I told them, “One mistake and you’re out!” It was interesting to watch students shine in ways that you could have never expected.

The next thing to happen was in my 8th grade class. I started a new activity with them on Fridays after their spelling test which consists of my holding a picture from a National Geographic magazine up and asking them, “Who (is in this picture)?, What (are/is they/he/she/ doing in this picture)?, When (is this happening: morning, evening, season, etc.)?, Where (continent, country, city, ocean, etc.)?, and Why (why are/is they/he/she doing this)?”

So, I started with a picture of two men sitting in the middle of the ocean on what looks like sticks and they look like they are fishing. The two men have a dark skin color and they have scarves wrapped around their heads. So... I started the activity. Mind you, I had already done this activity with the teacher’s club and the 7th graders so I kind of was expecting it to go the same way.

After I explained the activity to the students I held up the picture and asked the first question: “Who, who is in this picture?” The first response was African Americans, and I said, “Well, do you think they are from America?” The answer was no. And then the whammo... they started saying, “Negro” and I was thinking to myself.... I wonder if that is what they say here, and then it came out... the “N” word. At first I was like.... Oh God, how do I approach this? And then they started joking around with it and it was very clear to me what I had to do. I had to explain that in America that word is very offensive and we do not use it. But, just for a moment, think about what these kids were thinking. They have obviously seen American TV shows and movies and obviously they heard the word from somewhere right? So I tried to explain on TV and in movies people use this word, but we, and I motioned for the student and myself, will not use this word. It was an interesting moment because we had just been joking and having a good time and then the mood all of a sudden had to become very serious because I needed them to understand. Maybe I blew it out of proportion, but all I couldn’t just let it go.

We finished the activity and they came up with some great ideas and they didn’t use that word again. Anyway it led me to thinking, how in the world am I suppose to tell a group of non-Americans that using the N-word is offensive when it is used on TV and in movies? They look at me like I’m a gold fish speaking Swahili (thanks, Hilby). I can see their wheels turning.....then why are Americans saying that all the time? And by all the time, they mean the one or two times they heard it, but not it is engrained in their minds. I wasn’t prepared for that to come up because it didn’t cross my mind when preparing for the lesson, but it was just interesting.

On a lighter note, with 6th grade we learned Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes for absolutely no reason and while Nick was at class I made a Chocolate Jell-O Pudding Pie with a cookie crust and for lunch Red Beans and Rice from America! It was tasty.

Today we are going to meet with all of the NGOs from Satpaev at the Akimat with our Regional Manager. I just learned this week that there is a disabled children’s organization in Satpaev and I want to volunteer to bring English club there to read and/or sing to the kids. I am excited to find out more today!

Anyway... I am excited about wanting to write. I think it is just one more stepping stone to being more comfortable as a PCV.

Kokpar and Carnivores

2009-01-16T10:27:00.000+06:00

Just wanted to make a quick post of something our friend James Hill posted on his own blog (Kokpar and Carnivores) recently about the nature of our geography (he lives in the neighboring city) and the future of our area which echoes (and states more clearly) some things I've hinted at a few times in my own posts:

"Zhezkazgan is located in the center of the most desolate region of the Kazakh steppe. It is about equidistant between the larger cities of Karaganda (511km by road ENE) and Kyzylorda (428km SSW). Zhezkazgan and its smaller neighbor Satpaev owe every ounce of their existence to the discovery of copper many years ago. If, as rumored, the copper runs out in the near future and the Kazakhmys corporation leaves, the future looks very bleak. If no economic alternative can be found, Zhezkazgan will suffer from crippling unemployment and will face a mass exodus of its population. In 30 years it is possible that Zhezkazgan will exist only as a ghostly village trapped in the withered shell of a city designed to house up to the 150,000 people of its heydey. Zhezkazgan is currently home to only about 100,000 people; it has already been slowly bleeding population. However, all is not yet lost. Everybody in the city is keenly aware of an ominous future looming just beyond the horizon even if some prefer not to talk about it. Some way, somehow, a solution may be found.I have a map of Karagandinskaya Oblast – the center of Kazakhstan – which makes Zhezkazgan's isolation even more clear. The Ulytauski region, which includes the entire western quarter of the oblast except for Zhezkazgan and Satpaev, can claim only 16,600 inhabitants spread throughout a handful of tiny villages. You could leave Zhezkazgan in almost any direction and travel for hundreds of miles without seeing any sign of human existance. There's a reason why the Soviets built their Baikonur space facility nearby. [...]"

Quick Note

2009-01-13T13:41:00.000+06:00

Still alive, still safe. Internet's been a little hit-or-miss with all the holidays but we're trying to get internet in our apartment so the blog will pick back up then.

We just want to say, quickly, that we've gotten a lot of Christmas cards and mail from people at home and it's been really, really nice. The winter's been a piece of cake so far, thanks to all the love from the States. We hope your holidays were no less than spectacular. :-)

Best from Satpaev,
Nick & Corinne

Christmas Day

2008-12-26T10:26:00.000+06:00

Just a quick post to say Merry Christmas (and Happy Hannukah)! Our Christmas was really nice, despite working at all times of the day. We were woken up by a call from friends and family at our traditional Christmas Eve party - the best possible way to wake up to Christmas in Kazakhstan, I think. It was really nice to hear so many familiar, loving voices. Later, Corinne's mom and brother called before departing for their trip to see family in Iowa, which was also awesome. We got several Christmas cards in the mail and even a package from our friends in Tennessee (thanks everyone!!!). During the day, we were able to talk about Christmas traditions and history in most of our English classes and with our clubs, too. And we, of course, had a very White Christmas.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Love,
Nick & Corinne

Christmas Eve

2008-12-26T10:12:00.000+06:00

Today was Christmas Eve. We thought we would spend it mostly at work (Christmas here comes on the 7th of January so there's no holiday and no excuse to get off work on the 24th or 25th of December, even if you're American) but, instead, we spent it mostly at the Police Station.

Here's the story.

On Monday nights, Corinne has started going to a women's English club in Zhezkazgan. Since it would be a long lonely trip to Zhezkazgan without me and because I can visit the other volunteers in the city, I go with her. So she goes to club, I go to a cafe. It's a pretty nice arrangement actually. Anyway, this past Monday night, as we were getting ready to leave, a group of men passed by our table and, lo and behold, one of them is the detective from Satpaev that was working on the case of my stolen cell phone. He recognizes me, smiles and shakes my hand, asks me how I am, pleasantries, pleasantries, and then says something cryptic that Jamie thought was "soon, we'll go." Something like that. Cryptic.

The next day, we got a phone call at our apartment which Maria (our host mom) answered. She brought the phone to me and simply said "Nick, it's the police" with a knowing, sad smile on her face. I don't think she likes dealing with law enforcement any more than I do. I answered the phone, understood about half of what was being said (namely that I was supposed to go the police station the next day) and then said "sorry, I don't understand everything - I don't speak Russian." He asked if there was a translator present to which I mentally responded "yep, I keep one on me at all times." But instead I just handed the phone back to Maria. She called Natalia (my counterpart) and Natalia called back after about an hour and said that we had to go to the police station the next day - evidently they thought they'd found, not only my phone, but also the phone thief himself.

Now, let me tell you why I wasn't so excited about this:
- First of all, I would have to miss two or three hours of teaching to sit in the police station watching policemen fill out paperwork that I can't read.
- Secondly, the odds that they had actually found my phone, let alone the thief, were infinitessimally small. They had nothing to go on. I didn't have the model number of the phone, any identifying documentation for the purchase or ownership of the phone, and all I could tell them was something like "it was a small, black Nokia phone purchased in Almaty for 5000 tenge" ($45 or so). As far as the suspect goes, Corinne and I could only agree that he was tall, Kazakh, and had no other distinguishing features of any kind. To top it off, the only other witness said the thief was Russian, not Kazakh. So they had to look for a tall man with a cheap, black Nokia phone. In a city of 70,000+. And everyone has a cell phone.
- Third, after the theft occurred, there was a brief report about it in the local paper that placed the price of the phone at 50,000 tenge and not 5000. Which probably means that everyone simply refused to believe that the rich American would have been carrying around a crappy little phone such as the one I had actually been carrying around.
- Fourth, I bought a new phone a long time ago. And it's exactly the same as the first one.

So this morning, at 11, my counterpart and I set off from school to the police station (conveniently located just across the schoolyard) with very, very low expectations. We were taken to a room and I was asked if I would be able to identify the phone if it was shown to me. I said yes, of course, I have the exact same model in my pocket. They put three phones in front of me, each with a number in front of it. Number 1 was a bulky light-blue number, Number 3 was an incredibly worn and busted gray thing. But somehow, inconceivably, against all the laws of nature and science and mathematical ratios of chance, there, with a little roman numeral "II" in front of it, was my old phone.

The rest is a long story so here's the abridged version.

They gave me the phone and made me sign a paper promising to hold onto it until the court date in which it needed to be available (presumably to be used as some kind of evidence to accompany a testimony that I'm assuming I'm going to have to give). Corinne and I met Natalia back at the police station a few hours later to identify the thief. There was a big ordeal (again) about being behind the mirrored-glass (which we obviously wanted) and then a further ordeal about some sort of face-to-face confrontation after I'd correctly identified the man. Finally, we won our battles - got the mirrored-glass and didn't have to do the face-to-face confrontation - and went into the room with mirrored-glass to identify the guy in a lineup of three. The third guy was immediately out, way too short. The first one was too old. Which, again, left number two. He was Russian, not Kazakh, but had dark hair and Kazakh-ish facial features (believe it or not). He was tall and young, both correct. But we just couldn't say for sure that it was him. We've seen thousands and thousands of new faces since the day of the robbery and, frankly, our memories just aren't that good. So we ended by saying that we didn't know. Apparently, the real thief had already admitted to the crime though, telling the exact story that I told with the added bonus of how he sold the phone (to a driver for 2000 tenge) and what he bought with the money (food and voda, no shockers there) so all they wanted from me was hard, conclusive recognition in front of witnesses. And I couldn't give it to them. So we went back to the other room, sat down to fill out the paperwork that says we couldn't positively identify him in a lineup, and a detective brought in a group of papers with the guy's ID, positively identifying him as, I'm proud to say, suspect number two. We're not total morons.

...but now I have two cell phones. Two identical cell phones.

Car Trouble

2008-12-22T11:23:00.000+06:00

Just moments ago, as Corinne and I were finishing Sunday evening tea, I happened a glance out the kitchen window. We're on the fourth floor of our five floor apartment (the facade of which, by the way, is a stoic, Soviet pink...) and our kitchen window looks from the rear of the building across a wide, open yard to the Kazakhmys (the mining corporation) office, the gold-turreted orthodox church, a small soccer field, more apartments beyond, and, issuing huge quantities of grey smoke at all hours of the day, the water treatment plant in the distance. It snows daily or almost daily and between snowfalls the stuff is packed to levelness and the fresh powder falls again, adding another inch or two to be packed down. With the precipitation coming in spurts, there's no time for real accumulation, only constant packing, so that, instead of twelve inches of fluff, we usually have about an inch of fluff and three or four of hard pseudo-ice beneath. And in areas of mild traffic where the snow is packed enough to be slick but fresh enough to be deceptive, it can be slightly treacherous, which is how it happened that tonight a black sedan became stuck trying to jump the snow/ice-covered curbing that, in warmer weather, distinguishes the Kazakhmys office's paved lot from the hard, bare, open dirt that fills the spaces between everything in this area of the steppe.

I watched a moment as the two men in the car, with the doubtless benefit of years of experience, calmly moved to move the unmoving. One pushed the rear, the other gunned the accelerator. One pushed the front, the other gunned the accelerator. But, as they say, it ain't happenin', man. So, as I'm getting dressed to go out into the cold and give these guys the one extra hand it's clear they need, the driver suddenly takes a walk. Knowing he's probably going for help I consider staying inside but also knowing that he's probably heading for the distant apartment of someone he knows, I decide I'd be a quicker help and, even if I get down and he's disappeared and we have to wait for him to return, doubtless with more help, hey, an extra bit of help never killed anyone. But then he stops at the soccer field and asks the dozen school kids playing there in the snow between the goals to come over and help him out. And they do - they all do, they spill comically over the partitioned edges of the field like a midget hockey team changing lines and, a minute later, as the mass of colorful winter coats and caps and mittens engulf the sedan, it pops over the curb with a dramatic flare of exhaust and swirling snow, dragging giddy children from the rear bumper across the slicked-down road-substitute, an act the driver graciously repeats at request.

In a tragic twist, all twelve kids were squished flat.

Blog Stew

2008-12-15T13:33:00.000+06:00

For some reason, I was unable to focus on a single blog post long enough to really finish it and by the time I could sit back down at my computer to work on it I had something else I needed to put down before I forgot about it. So I've just posted a smattering of basically incomplete thoughts from the last seven days or so. But, I mean, Corinne posted a recipe, so no complaining.

Hope things are lovely in your neck of the woods.

Dec 14, 2008

2008-12-15T13:32:00.000+06:00

This morning we awoke to our first real snow of the winter season here in Satpaev. It's still unseasonably warm (hovering right around freezing) but I'm thinking the 3-4 inches of soft white powder resting outside right now is probably enough to survive mild temperature increases for a while so I think the snow is more or less here to stay. Which is pretty cool - everything here looks better in snow. And the sound of the streets changes subtly, muted and calming. It's nice.

A few other interesting things happened this week. First, Wednesday was Kurban-Ait, a holiday signaling a certain amount of time has passed since Ramadan, and our host mom had off work. I came home to a lunch with her, two people we'd met once before, and three completely new faces, one of which was our host mom's mother-in-law. The lunch was also the first time I'd been invited to eat Besbarmak (the national dish, literally "five fingers" in Kazakh) with my hands which...well, if it never happens again, I'll survive. Eating meat with your hands is one thing. In fact, eating any food with your hands is more or less tolerable. But my pathetic American stomach seems to draw a line when six other people are reaching into a communal dish of noodles, broth, onions, and huge hunks of horse. Corinne walked in just as everyone started digging in (therefore missing out on a fresh dish that had yet to be touched) so she stuck to the foods served with tea (the ones not fingered through prior to consumption. Regardless, it was a nice to experience the long-standing tradition.

The following day (or maybe the day before...the days tend to melt together), as I rounded the corner of our apartment building, heading to school, there were a group of men in the courtyard of the next building over (about ten feet away) huddled around a massive, skinless, headless cow carcass, hacking the rest of it to pieces. The lower portions of the legs had already been removed. If I were a betting man, I'd bet I'll never forget how the entire animal rolled back and forth each time they brought a knife down on its thick, pink thigh.

While we're on the topic of food, I should mention that we finally got our Peace Corps Kazakhstan Volunteer Cookbook in the mail! An incredibly exciting event, allowing us (well, so far, only Corinne) to make the most of the available food supplies. To kick things off, Corinne made an unbelievable Beer Cheese Soup, hindered only by the fact that we're not sure which types of cheese are closest to American varieties and she was unlucky enough to pick up one that hit the tongue like a heaping teaspoon of Ajax. Cheese issues aside, the soup turned out really, really well. And the following day, Corinne baked up an apple pie, taking the dough recipe from the Cookbook and inventing the rest herself, putting our McCormick Cinnamon/Sugar grinder to good use. And my goodness was it tasty.

One more food note: we discovered lime-flavored Orbit chewing gum and are currently occupying gum heaven.

Dec 12, 2008

2008-12-15T13:31:00.000+06:00

The last advice I remember my grandmother giving us before we left for Kazakhstan was "don't take any wooden nickels." I remember it clearly, though the clarity is likely superimposed on the actual memory by my imagination, for a few reasons. The first is that Corinne had never heard the expression which, to be honest, I didn't find particularly shocking or unbelievable, it being somewhat removed from common usage nowadays. The memory was further reinforced by our arrival at the Sheraton in Philadelphia which, in fact, has a bar (or maybe a gift shop? I don't remember that aspect quite as clearly) named (what else?) "The Wooden Nickel."

I hadn't thought about this minor coincidence since we left Philly almost two months ago. And then today, as I neared the end of "All Quiet on the Western Front," I read that exact expression on the printed page several times rapid fire. So I thought about Philadelphia and Corinne seeing the sign for the shop and then I thought about my grandmother.

And that's the end of this blog entry.

Dec 10, 2008

2008-12-15T13:28:00.000+06:00

Frost this morning but still no snow. There has, in fact, not been snow beyond a light dusting since our first days here. There hasn't been precipitation of any kind for quite a while and, for Satpaev, KZ in December, it's remarkably warm (around 40 most days).

I realize that sounds nice and cool but it's freaking me out for a few reasons.

First, for the simple fact that it's unusual. I want the sub-zero Siberian temperatures, you know? We're already afforded so many luxuries by Peace Corps standards (electricity, running water, an almost-shower, a washing machine, a microwave, a television, internet access, etc.) that I almost feel owed some legitimate hardship in the form of temperatures so cold you want to cry. Is that really asking so much?

The second reason it's kind of freaking me out is the batareya (radiator) situation here. They're electric and they come on, en masse, at one time in late October, bringing the joys of warmth to the entire apartment complex. Once they're on, they're on - they don't go off again, ever, until March or April. We have a batareya in our room, of course, and it works and I'm certainly grateful for that. The problem is this: when it's too warm for the full onslaught of the batareya equipped for sub-Siberian winters, Kazakhstanis do the logical thing and open their windows a little bit, allowing a nice bit of relief to creep in from outside. Our room is three walls with no windows and one with windows and a set of glass doors that lead to a small enclosed balcony. If you want the room to cool down at night, we simply open the door. Unfortunately, the greenhouse effect goes to work during the day and the sun heats the glass balcony to much, much hotter than our actual room, stripping us of any daytime relief from the exuberant batareya. So when the temperature dips into some serious negatives our room will go from exceedingly, uncomfortably warm to, ahhhh, just right. And I'm getting a little impatient for that time.

The Cookbook

2008-12-11T11:31:00.000+06:00

Kazakh Cooking
Lesson #1 – Monti

Ingredients:
Farsh: Ground Beef (2 lbs, uncooked)
Kartoshka: Potato (3 large, peeled, boiled)
Lyk [loo-k]: Onion (4 small, peeled, uncooked or 2 large, peeled, uncooked)
Myka: Flour (2 ish cups or a large bowl full)
Vada: Water (1 cup ish... or at least until the flour is a dough like consistency)
Sol y Perets: Salt and Pepper to taste

Materials:
A pot for steaming
Shelves for the steaming pot
Large spoon
Bowl for combining ingredients
Knife, Cutting Board
Rolling pin, or clean broomstick

Directions:
1. Cut potatoes and onions into very small pieces, about ½ centimeter (maybe? I don’t really know....just small).
2. Combine potatoes and onions with ground beef (uncooked) in a large bowl.
*if ground beef is frozen break apart into small pieces, if thawed break apart into small pieces.
3. Mix ingredients of 2 together until thoroughly combined and set aside.
4. Make dough:
Combine flour, water, and salt into a small bowl and stir until it has the consistency of dough. I am not exactly sure how much of each, but... if it is runny, add more flour... if it is too floury, add more water... and don’t forget to salt it (just a pinch, or two)!
5. Roll dough into a ball and cover with a bowl (dough on table, bowl on top upside down).
6. Cut off 1/3 of dough ball.
7. Flour the table generously and start rolling out the 1/3 part of dough
ball. After dough is rolled out, flip over and over until very large
round circle appears and the dough is very thin.
8. Cut dough into squares 3 in x3 in.
9. Put a spoon full of the meat filling on top of each 3x3 square.
10. Once the monti filling is inside, very carefully fold up the opposing
corners to meet in the middle (you should have four points touching in the middle).
11. Press the points together with your finger. Bringing up these points should fold the dough to meet \other edges of the dough... press those edges together as well. Once all of the edges are pressed together, bring corners to touch each other... see picture.
12. Place monti on the shelf of the steamer and let steam for 40 minutes.

*There is an extra thing you can make to put on top of the monti. Cut up one large carrot, 2 small onions and put them in about 1 in of oil. Bring to a boil. Add pepper and salt to taste. Add 2 tblsp ketchup and 1 cup of water and let simmer until the monti is ready. Put over top... delicious.

**pictures to come!

Dec 21, 2008

2008-12-01T11:22:00.001+06:00

Four (!!!) new posts today including very recent pictures and the first installation of "Around the Town" which I hope will become a regular feature of our blog.

xoxo,
Nick & Corinne

9,000 Words in 9 Seconds

2008-12-01T11:01:00.000+06:00

Corinne's Turkey Hand Decoration (all hands made by students)

On Display Above the Thanksgiving Table

A Sample Plate: Roast Chicken, Salad, Mashed Potatoes, and Banana Bread

Before the Rampant Devouring

Cuttin' 'Er Open

Our Host Nephew/ Spiderman

First English Club at Corinne's School: Heads-Up, 7-Up

The Gang at Thanksgiving: Gulzhan, Drew, Jamie, Robert, Nick, Corinne

Doin' Local Style (read: no smiles...ever)

Around the Town, No. 1

2008-12-01T10:53:00.000+06:00

An Introduction...

In Satpaev, the streets are wide and the winds off the steppe make their way easily between the facades of the Soviet-era apartment buildings. The spaces between them are most often hard-packed half-football-field-sized dirt quadrangles with softly suggested borders between road and yard. The world is your parking lot. Men smoke in twos or threes on the eroding entryways, sometimes standing sometimes in a squat, forearms resting on knees.. In Kazakhstan, no one sits on the ground.

People tend to amble the streets rather than walk. Heavy department store-style plastic bags in hand, carrying everything from a spare pair of shoes to the evening's dinner supplies, they chat at midday: friends clutched arm-in-arm in a fashion one would rarely observe of American women, much less men. Mornings and evenings are all but voiceless in the open air for the work commutes, much of which is done on foot, the rest in public transportation. Most people don't own or need to own an automobile. Where would you go? Into the steppe? There is a river nearby, sometimes used for parties and daytrips, mostly by students, but the nearest town, besides Zhezkazgan which is a mere twenty minutes and roughly the cost of an American quarter by public bus, is at least a day's trip by any means but airplane. So people tend to stay put.

And they work hard.
Fifty years ago, this area was a font of culture as the Soviet Union's intelligentsia were "relocated" to places like Zhezkazgan (then the name for the entire region). Artists, writers, and philosophers found themselves exiled, excommunicated, or simply imprisoned and, as people tend to, made the best of the conditions. But as the Cold War came to an end, so did the intelligentsia's time in exile and many moved back to their homes in Russia, leaving behind the communities they had built to a population increasingly dependent on the surrounding resources, namely copper. Satpaev's geographical location, intelligentsia or not, more or less doomed it to a life of industrial production - half a day from anything but steppe, steppe, and more steppe, not to mention any established major cities, the region wasn't exactly ripe for tourism. Even now, there's only one rail hub to Zhezkazgan (Karaganda, 11 hours east) and railroads are how things happen in Kazakhstan. So people tend to stay put. And they tend to work hard - some in the schools and other public works, some in private shops and a few private businesses, but the vast majority for the mining company, in one fashion or another. And in a way, the cities are no different than Pittsburgh or Charleston. The lifespans of Satpaev and Zhezkazgan are tied in a close weave with the lifespan of the copper mines.

Dinner Got The Stuffing Kicked Out Of It

2008-12-01T10:50:00.000+06:00

Our first Thanksgiving in Kazakhstan (and come to think of it, the first not with family) was really pretty nice. We had to work on Thursday (Thanksgiving not being a recognized holiday in Kazakhstan...who would've thought, right?) but on Saturday night we made the bus trip over to Zhezkazgan...and then the walking trip into Zhezkazgan because we're still not totally clear on the bus stops...to spend the evening with the three other Volunteers in the area and their tutor/jack-of-all-trades who speaks the most like an American of any Kazakhstani I've met so far. We had roasted chicken (turkeys evidently steer clear of Zhezkazgan), mashed potatoes, carrots, a vegetable salad, juice, beer, homemade rainbow cookies, and even a few green beans Robert stumbled across.

This week I got a fancy new hair cut at the hands of Corinne L'Huber, stylist extraordinaire. So now the grease that collects after three days without a legitimate bath isn't so noticeable/unmanageable/horrific. And my head's a little cooler when that central steppe wind picks up.

Corinne got a phone call this morning from a potential tutor which is pretty exciting. I myself had my first tutoring session this week and having to get back into classes having been only two or three weeks removed was a little rough so we were both really hoping something would happen soon before we had to start sharing a tutor which would be pretty messy.

S'all for now.

Hugs.

Nov. 21, 2008

2008-12-01T10:45:00.000+06:00

Five Great Things That Happened This Week:

Corinne's Five

5. The kids finally/kinda stopped saying "HELLO! HELLO! HELLO!" everytime they saw me and varied it with a few, "Good Mornings, Good Afternoons, Hi's, and Hi Ms. Corinnes" it was awesome.
4. I sang 4 songs in one class period with my 5th graders. I almost cried with joy. We sang a Hello song, A verb song, If You're Happy and You Know It, A Morning/Noon/Night song, This Is The Way, and of course a Goodbye song.
3. My 10th grade Business English class asked if I would go to the café with them on Saturday. That feels great.
2. I finally got times and rooms for English Clubs for both students and teachers (Tuesdays at 4pm, Thursdays at 5pm, and for teachers Thursdays at 6:30pm). Hopefully soon we can squeeze a couple of fitness classes in there somewhere.
1. I think I have finally come to terms with why I am here and what I am doing. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and I am just ready to dig in and have some fun!

Nick's Five

5. I bought a new phone!
4. It has (as of this writing) not been stolen!
3. I finished reading Herman Hesse's "Steppenwolf" which may or may not have been the cause of increased anxiety. It was a good read, don't get me wrong, but I'm glad to move on.
2. On Monday my counterpart said "Nick, you were born to be a teacher." So suck on that naysayers! (which have so far amounted to zero - but consider this a preemptive strike)
1. It was brought to my attention (twice, actually) that no matter how hard Peace Corps is now or becomes later, it's nowhere near as hard as going back to the States with nowhere to live, no job, no car, and no money during the worst economic recession since the '30s (if that's no longer considered accurate, sue me - it's not like I'm watching CNN every morning). Food for thought for when we're freaking out.

A Brief Look at Chai

2008-11-14T12:35:00.000+06:00

Despite spending around fifteen hours in the police station in the days since the theft, my phone hasn't been found. I didn't really expect it to be until I saw that they were taking the case so seriously, detectives rushing around, officers bringing in suspects, etc. etc. So my hopes were raised slightly but realistically it's only a phone (and a very cheap one at that) so I don't expect either it or its captor to be apprehended any time soon/ever. So Saturday I'll buy a new one which will be simultaneously exciting and depressing. C'est la vie. Eta zhizn.

I decided I haven't given very much insight into the day-to-day lives of Kazakhstanis on this blog which is unfortunate because things definitely happen differently here, I just accepted them almost offhand and have tried not to think about all the little newnesses. But I think it's time to talk about some of it - in a few more months I suspect Corinne and I will have lost some of the sense of American life that's still so keen in us right now, not even a full season removed from life in Virginia Beach.

Kazakhstanis, as a rule, have tea a lot. I mentioned this already in one of the earliest posts of this blog but it bears repeating. Having been here for only a few weeks, all told, Corinne and I are by no means experts on tea or tea culture in Kazakhstan or even reliable resources. So don't site us for that dissertation just yet. But we have been drinking a lot of the stuff here and it's tough not to make some observations. So this is how we see it. Tea, first of all, knows no demographic: Kazakhs, Russians, Uighurs, Tatars, Germans, Koreans, Uzbeks, Americans, and whatever other people might be wandering around this country doubtlessly have hot tea once a day, more if possible. Tea tends to be a social experience but by no means do you need a social situation to drink it. You can have tea alone in the morning light of your apartment, with friends around a table as precursor to dinner, out at a cafe during a break from work with a bit of bread or shashlik, or even, in some professions, during work itself. And when a person has tea, he doesn't simply drink it. Tea is conversation, comfort, tradition, a means of casting out the immediate problems and their immediacy. Our host uncle in Kaskelen told us that at his bank when tea is taken work stops, people look up from their desks and smile and laugh with each other for a few minutes before the boss comes back in and tells them to cut it out and get back to work. There are dozens and dozens of tea brands sold here in many different forms: packets, bags, instant grounds that dissolve, balls of some kind that don't dissolve at all but steep remarkably well. The variety is usually plain black tea, though green and flavored options certainly exist. Around the dinner table, there is almost always one woman who takes the duties of pouring the tea. This informal title can change hands depending on the day but generally doesn't during a particular meal. The tea lady, as I think of her, tends to have a designated traditional place at the table which seems to be at the end or corner that allows for the tea vessels to travel the shortest distance. The vessels themselves are varied: there are normally two pots, both called "chainik," that make up the liquid in a cup of tea, the larger (what we think of as a "kettle") holding boiled water and the smaller (the tea "pot") a strong batch of steeping black tea, but there is also a large metallic container with a spout at the bottom, something like a Gatorage cooler for tea, called a "samovar" that takes the place of the "kettle" and which has a long history in Russian culture and I'd guess, though I'm not sure, in other tea-drinking cultures as well. Tea is poured in a specific order, especially when taken with milk as is customary here: small amount of cold milk, small amount of hot concentrated tea, large amount of hot water. Sugar is added after to taste. When tea is taken with milk, it's often taken with jam but it's important to NEVER MIX MILK AND JAM IN YOUR TEA*. Sometimes, if you add only a little jam and at just the right time, everything will come out right and you can thank the gods of tea that you got off easy. Most of the time, almost without fail in fact, the jam will curdle the milk and you'll get little white floaties swirling about your tea cup in subtle mockery of your foreigners' ignorance.

(*It should be noted that, based on the weeks I spent working for a certain coffee chain that also mixes fruit-flavored products and milk in hot liquids, I think jam and milk can be taken together in the same cup of tea if added in the order of jam, hot tea, hot water, milk but I have yet to test this as I have yet to be offered the position of tea lady at the dinner table...).

Doubtless there's no shortage of traditions and stories bound to the consumption of tea and doubtless likewise that we'll encounter some of them over the next two years and have more interesting things to say on the subject but it seemed important to give even a small, relatively uninformed take on the topic because it's a part of our daily lives now. And yummy to boot.

Love,
Nick & Corinne

Two New Posts Today

2008-11-12T13:05:00.001+06:00

...not including this one. One is from November 9, the other from November 10.

Love to everybody!

Nov 10, 2008

2008-11-12T13:03:00.000+06:00

Today was our first full day living the life of Satpaev-ers so let me tell you all about it.

There's no school until Thursday - it's a break between periods - so our plan was simply to get organized. After a nice long dinner with my counterpart last night, we were ready to head out to a) KazKommerts Bank to withdraw the rent money and move-in allowance from Peace Corps so we can make our apartment our home and b) the town's biggest bazaar (which turned out to be not so big, actually). We woke up, sauntered out of bed and --- HOLY CRAP IT'S SNOWING ON OUR FIRST DAY AND WE'RE NOT REALLY EVEN IN THE NORTH! Needless to say, I whipped our the camcorder (thanks Ticket Office!) and got some quick footage of the orthodox church next door getting doused with powder. Pretty exciting. Snow (and freezing temperatures) are particularly exciting in Satpaev because everything's either concrete or mud and frozen mud happens to be the only kind of mud which doesn't make your life in Kazakhstan miserable.

Tangent: Kazakhstanis are very very conscious of both neatness and fashion so if you've got mud splatters across your shoes, even if they're stylish pointy black elf shoes like the ones I picked up last week, you must be either a complete slob (read: American) or a mindless idiot (read: probably American). I'll come back to the mindless idiot part of being an American in just a little bit...

Back on track, we got dressed, cleaned up the room, and set out on our first real adventure in Satpaev. We walked the streets, saw the sights, ate the snow, and eventually even ended up at KazKom where we made our withdrawals and moved on along. The bazaar was, as I mentioned, not so big even compared to Kaskelen's modest offering (and compared to the mammoth Almaty bazaars, positively microscopic). We didn't find quite everything we needed, particularly a surge protecter, so we decided to check in some shops on the walk home. After all, it was snowing lightly, the air was crisp, we were young and optimistic...

We stopped at this building that said "Arman" and "Bank" meaning that it was two things in one. We walked in the front glass doors and immediately back out because it was the bank portion and not the Arman portion which we assumed was a shop. Standing on the stairs there were two men: one a security guard, about 50 or so, and the other a younger man of no particular physical distinction. Just some normal guys smoking. We would have walked right on by them but as we did the younger one asked us where we're from. Over the last three months, we've gotten that question on the streets just about everyday so at this point we just took it in stride. In Russian, we answered a few more questions about the weather in America, our work in Satpaev, how long we're staying, and golly isn't Obama great? All the usual faire so we said goodbye and strolled up the street toward town square.

A few minutes later, as we're walking past the akimat (basically city hall), the younger man from a few minutes ago runs up behind us yelling "friend! friend!" I know that at this point warning bells probably should have been going off in both our heads but you have to remember a few things: 1) it's our first day in Satpaev so we want to integrate and make a good impression which is tough to do if you're suspicious and scowling at everyone; 2) we met the guy while he was talking to a security guard - not quite a representative of the law, true, but not exactly a roaming gang of evil bandits either; 3) it was broad daylight, one or two in the afternoon, and we were together in front of the akimat in town square - how much safer can you get?; 4) remember I said that thing about mindless idiots? I was being one at this particular moment.

So, the guy runs up, starts in with something about how he needs to call his wife and he doesn't have a phone blah blah blah can he use mine. Me being a nice guy (and not knowing a ton of Russian), I take out my phone to signal that "hey, yeah, I'd totally help you" but I tell him that my phone has no money on it, which happens to be just about true. I had, at the absolute most, 100 tenge left which equates to 90 cents or so - maybe ten text messages. So he responds with something about the SIM card and he can pay blah blah blah he takes the phone out of my hand, fakes a look at the back like he's going to keep working at it with us, and then takes off between the akimat and the Sulpak/Gros across a construction site where there's a foundation laid.

Now, to be fair, we were well prepped for this in training. We learned the Russian word for "thief" ("vor"). We learned how to say "help me!" and we learned the verb for "steal." In Almaty, thanks to all the safety prep, I was hyper-aware of everything: if this exact scenario had happened in Almaty, both the thief and I would probably have some bruises and scabs to show for it. But the fact is that it didn't happen in Almaty, it didn't happen at night, while I was alone, or with anything involving alcohol. It happened in the exact opposite fashion that we were prepped for. I know that's no excuse but neither Corinne nor I could really believe what was occurring as we watched him run away with my phone.

My thought process went something like this:
1. Really?
2. Did...is that guy stealing my phone?
3. Really? (*the incredulity is mounting*)
4. What a dope - that's like the cheapest phone in the entire country.
5. Aside from that, I flat out told him there was no money on it. What kind of profit margin is he envisioning? I mean, what if I was supernaturally fast and strong and the guy ended up in the hospital over the cheapest phone in Kazakhstan? What kind of life is that? What kind of life choices is this guy making that would lead him down this sad, lonely road? Isn't this the equivalent of stealing, like, a Furbee?
6. He's actually not running that fast.
7. Maybe I should chase him.
8. I should probably chase him.
9. But first I should yell something. Uh...
10. Too late to yell, I think, just run.
11. Okay, I'm running into a construction site blindly and ixnay on the iefthay.
12. Corinne's freaking out behind me.
13. What th...did he disappear?
14. A 6'5" Kazakh thief just disappeared in broad daylight in the town square.
15. AND HE'S GOT ALL MY PHONE NUMBERS.
16. In English. So he can prank call people that don't speak Russian...?
17. We should probably go look for that surge protector...
18. You know, it's a good thing we didn't start taking pictures with our digital camera that Corinne has on her.
19. It's also a good thing he didn't follow us from KazKom bank where we withdrew all our rent money.
20. What a dope - that's like the cheapest phone in the entire country.
21. Really? He really needed the phone that badly?
22. Okay, surge protector.
23. Remember to call Aliya.

We didn't find the surge protector.

When we got back to the apartment, we called Aliya (PC Kaz's Safety and Security Officer) and she was great - really on top of everything. She called our counterparts, called the police station for us, got all the details of the incident from us, etc. Unfortunately, our day was just beginning because we needed to report it to the police so hopefully they could catch the guy and be all like "you can't steal from the Americans! bad! bad!" So we went to meet my counterpart at the police station for a marathon of reports and a double marathon of identification attempts. We looked through two entire computer databases of known criminals' pictures to no avail. That was a solid two hours in itself. Then we looked through a book. Then they tried to make us create some kind of composite sketch on the computer which, having looked at 2000 or so Kazakhstani faces over the last two and half hours, was utterly useless and, frankly, kind of painful.

But the police seemed nice enough and certainly dedicated to finding the guy. They took the incident very seriously (more seriously than I thought it really deserved, actually) and responded in no time - got a witness report from the security guard at the bank and went on the search. Overall, I was very impressed, especially having heard that the police in Kazakhstan can be less than sincere at times. One detective in particular reminded me of Michael Chiklis or whatever his name is - the guy from the Shield. I'm pretty sure if anyone catches the impertinent American-targeting cellular phone thief, it's going to be that guy. So thanks to him in advance. My counterpart, Natalia, was also incredibly helpful translating all the police work and creating the incident report for us.

And actually we ended up killing two birds with one stone since we had to visit the migration police anyway, so we headed downstairs after four hours and showed them our documents and voila, another item off the move-in checklist. We went home, moved an enormous armoire, rearranged our room, put most of our crap away, ate some unbelievable plov, and now I'm going to lay down on our couch/bed.

Sorry for another unedited, first-draft blog post but I want to relive this as little as possible. And don't worry about us - Satpaev is safe, it's just that one guy. And it was just a cell phone.

But, uh, don't call me for a while.

Love,
Nick (& Corinne)

Nov 9, 2008

2008-11-12T13:01:00.000+06:00

There was about three inches of snow on the ground in Karaganda last night and when we arrived here in Satpaev this morning there was a light dusting of white powder. The same trees that we saw three weeks ago looking not just dead but in something of a tree purgatory of misery, suffering, and nothingness look now like framework for an Ansel Adams series on Kazakhstan. No doubt by March we'll slip into an emotional breakdown at the mere mention of frozen precipitation but this side of November it's very welcome; particularly following 30+ hours in a train cabin set to "broil."

We've only been back in Satpaev for a few hours so we're not quite ready to talk about that but there are a few things that have been on my mind for a while, fundamental differences between life in America and life in Kazakhstan. Of course there are the material differences: washing machines, indoor flush toilets, microwaves, showers (particularly hot showers), and other appliances and amenities are somewhat rare finds but these are simply symptoms of (among other things) a young and burgeoning capitalism that has yet to filter much past the oilmen, politicians, and cities on the Caspian - the same way that Americans' trashing of an old pair of shoes and replacing them with new ones (rather than simply fixing the old ones) is a symptom of a culture of disposable consumer items and novelties (among other things). The bigger differences between Americans and Kazakhstanis have nothing to do with what they purchase or find valuable but how they think about the world around them. Most of these differences were discussed briefly in our cross-culture classes during training but, of course, it's so much more complex than what could be learned in a few hour long sessions, three months in country, or even two years of full immersion.

E.g.: Nationality, Race, and Ethnicity:
For Americans, these are three very different things. In the sociological sense, especially, but if you ask any dude in Levy's off the street, he'll at least be able to distinguish race and ethnicity from nationality. This is because Americans view nationality (loosely) as a signifier of the nation in which you have the rights of a citizen: my nationality is American but my great-great-grandmother's nationality was probably German. Kazakhstanis, on the other hand, define nationality more like we define ethnicity. A typical conversation on the topic goes something like this:

Local: What's your nationality?
PCV: I'm American.
Local: Yes, of course you're from America, but what's your nationality?
PCV: American?
Local: No, you're not American. Maybe British, French, Mexican...
PCV: Oh, ethnicity. I'm...

It's happened a number of times that people are told that they're not American, they're only, for example, Japanese. Under any terms. Even if you don't speak the Japanese language, even if your family has lived in America for five or six generations and is as Americanized as any person could possibly be, you're not American, you're Japanese. Of course this isn't true of every conversation or even most, but it does happen and it's incredibly interesting to me considering this nation's own mixed ethnic thumbprint. During the Virgin Lands campaign, thousands and thousands of migrants came (by choice or force) to set up homes on the steppe of Kazakhstan formerly inhabited by Kazakhs and, to a lesser extent, Uighurs, Uzbeks, and a few other Central Asian peoples. These migrants included Germans, Koreans, Ukrainians, and small numbers of other people under Soviet control. Now, obviously, it would be impossible for me to understand all of this, and I might be misunderstanding the little bits of it I'm representing here (apologies), but it's absolute fact that Kazakhstan is not a country of a single culture, people, or ideology. So where do such powerful (and some might say narrowly defined) ideas of nationality come from? It would be a paradox to say they stem from Soviet times as the Soviets forced more and more ethnic groups into the same place, but then again the USSR, like any other country in the world, was no stranger to paradox. And it would be hard, but of course not impossible, to believe that these ideas of nationality remain from pre-Soviet nomadic times because the idea of a sovereign Kazakh nation was, to my understanding, still fairly embryonic (or at least more symbolic than concrete). Perhaps it's something as simple as a true language barrier that can never be wholly bridged - nationality, in Russian, simply means differently and that's that. Maybe.

Hopefully by the end of two years here I'll be able to speak on this a bit more clearly but it's strange to think about how much the definition, or even connotation, of one word can illuminate or confuse an entire culture to a somewhat ignorant outsider (me, for example).

So, mercifully, I'll stop here for today.

Love,Nick (& Corinne)

America + Kazakhstan + Peace Corps = Greatest Sport Coat Accessory Ever

2008-11-05T15:27:00.001+06:00

We had our Russian language test on Monday. We passed so they don't have to send us home. Yay!

But the big event this week was Swearing In. You come to Swearing In as girl/boy/девушка/мальчик and they make you a woman/man/женщина/человек. They give you speeches and handshakes and a lapel pin we've all been dying for with the American and Kazakhstani flags framing the Peace Corps logo. And then four extra long tables full of food for the (new and old) PCVs, PC staff, and host family members in attendance to dig into in a mountain of starvation-stomping joy.

I'd love to write more but we're about to board the train to Satpaev where we'll live for the next two years. No coming back to the little piece of Kaz we've known for three months. Onward and upward.

I'm pretty nervous...Corinne seems fine.

More from the other side of the country.

Love,
Nick (& Corinne)

Our week in Satpaev

2008-10-26T06:50:00.000+06:00

Howdy!

Well, I'll start with two weeks ago. It all started with Counterpart Conference and YAY we met our counterparts. Nick's counterpart is pretty much fluent in English because of the many volunteers that have come before us in Satpaev and my counterpart is very nice and we can communicate rather well. We met each other over tea and cookies in a large cafeteria surrounded by 50 other volunteers and counterparts meeting for the first time. As we sat shouting across the table at each other in English and Russian I couldn't help but feel really excited to meet them. I also think Nick and I were very lucky in the selection process. We learned about our respective schools and about our teachers.

Then we attended a series of sessions helping us to form better relationships with each other. The second day of counterpart conference was rather short and then we boarded a train for Karaganda. Our teachers were very helpful in getting us all settled in for our first night on the train. We had tea and bread with them for supper and we were able to share dinner with another volunteer and his counterpart as well. It was really nice. In the morning we handed in our sheets and waited at the train station for the next train.

After a couple quick walks around Karaganda we board the last train and prepared for our second night on a slightly more disgusting train. Also, there was no safety rail on the top bunks.. so... who knows.. in the middle of the night one of us could have ended up on the floor. =)

We arrived in Zhezkazgan at around 9:30AM and we were quickly whisked away by the parent of one of my students in a rather military looking vehicle. Army green and reeking of gasoline.. it was also about 150 degrees inside. But, it was free and he was very nice!

On the way to Satpaev we noticed the landscape. Miles and miles of never-ending steppe. It reminded us of returning to Las Vegas after visiting the Grand Canyon. All of a sudden we went over a hill and BAM there was our new town. We were given a very small tour from the car and then we were dropped off at our new flat for the week. We were greeted by two teachers from Nick's school and our new host Mom, Maria. There was also a table full of food waiting for us, but all I could think about was taking a shower. After schmoozing a little we ended up cleaning up and showering. Then we prepared for our walking tour with Nick's counterpart.

She showed us the Church and the Mosque which were built facing each other. She said, "They built these at the same time and then told the city, 'Now, go pray!'." Then we walked to Nick's school... which is pretty much amazing. Nick is working at a Gymnasium, which is kind of as close to a private school as you can get without being private. It takes the best students from all of the surrounding areas and puts them in one location. Plus he has TONS of awesome resources and his classroom looks like it could be in the states. Then, we walked to the town square and Nick bought slippers! Yes... while on the train he never heard the end of it. We looked in Karaganda for slippers, but since Nick has skis for feet (as our LCF puts it), it was unsuccessful. However, in a small shoe store in Satpaev we found them... amazing.After the slipper purchase we headed to the Sok.

This is a HUGE sports facility. On the second train our volunteer friend and his counterpart happened to be roomed with two refs for the upcoming hockey game in Satpaev and they had invited us to come. Little did they know Nick's counterpart would absolutely be down for this. So we headed to the Sok, went around the back, asked for Constantine, and got into the rink and watched a Kazakhstan vs. Russia hockey match. Pretty sweet for our first day at site. After the hockey game we went to my school, which is called a Lysium, which means then take all of the students and separate them into two categories: Advanced and I guess not so advanced. So I only teach in the mornings from 8AM-2PM and I only have the advanced students. Some of my students come 5 days a week and some only 2, but they are really excited to learn! Not many resources, but I have a few things I picked up in the states that will be sent and that should help them out. Also.. they have me.. so it will be great! After seeing my school we went back to the flat.

Monday: Nick and I went to school and were greeted by our new students and staff. Nick's school is about 10 minutes from the flat and mine is about 5 in the opposite direction. After school we had dinner plans with another potential host family. This was the first time we ever felt like we were Americans in Kazakhstan. We walked in and tried to help with dinner and then the little man of the house came home. I think he was about 6 or 7. He stared at us with the biggest eyes I have ever seen and didn't take his eyes off of us until his shoes and jacket were off. Then we went into his room and came out staring and while he ate he stared and smiled. Stared and smiled. It was amazing and very cute.

Tuesday: Same.. went to school. Went to visit another potential host family. This one was little more distant. Didn't really care that much. The son sat in his room and played computer games, but the mother was very nice. Just not enough room.

Wed: Went to school and then after we had dinner with Nick's counterpart at her flat. In her two bedroom flat lives her and her husband and her daughter, her husband and their 6 month old daughter. They also have 2 computers with internet! Pretty sweet. We had chicken and french fries! MmMm!!

Thursday: Went to school and after school we met some teachers from my school at a cafe and had THE BEST DINNER EVER. Beer, Coca-cola, three different types of Kazakh salads, string cheese and shashlik. SOOO delicious. AND no tea!

Friday, our last day during site visit, we had plov with our host Mom and celebrated Victory Day with our students at our schools. Then our host Mom left for her brother's house and Nick and I read until our counterparts came to pick us up for the train station. We boarded the train at 10:30PM and arrived this morning is Almaty at 5:10AM. About 30 hours straight. Not too bad. We met a lot of very interesting people on the train and in Satpaev. It was actually very hard to leave and come back because part of us just wanted to get started. But we only have two weeks left in Kaskelen and then two years starts!

Upcoming events:
Language Test(s)
Hub Day #3
Teacher's Conference in Kaskelen
Swearing In
...and moving the rest of our stuff to Satpaev.

Pretty awesome.

Quick Note

2008-10-21T13:49:00.000+06:00

Just letting you know that we are safe and happy in Satpaev! Corinne will write the next post (as soon as she learns how to...) so you'll get all the gritty details then.

For now, if you'd like to check the weather where we are, head to weather.com and search for "Zhezkazgan" which is only a few minutes away.

All best,
Nick (& Corinne)

Onward and Upward (but only slightly)

2008-10-11T13:01:00.000+06:00

TODAY IS A DAY OF DAYS. LET THE MOUNTAINS RING OUT, HERALDING THE GLORIOUS DECLARATION:

Today. We in Kasekelen. Have finished. F-I-N-I-S-H-E-D. Our. Community-freaking-Project.

(echoechoechoechoecho...)

The Community Project was (PAST TENSE!) peerless among all our tasks as PCTs in that not a single one of us wanted to do it. Granted, when the time came, a few of us stepped up and did what we had to do (particularly my wife). And then, at the last second, as the time crept pathetically toward the edge of a terrible cliff, the rest of us swung it in gear and we all, in unison, stamped the Community-freaking-Project into the dusty, leaf-strewn ground of the Belinksky school athletic fields, "Health Day" signs wafting in the breeze.

Let this signal the last utterance of the phrases "Community Project," "Community-freaking-Project," or "Health Day" in this here pseudo-publication. And don't ask about it. It's not worth it.

In other, innately better, news, we continue to learn (tiny detail by tiny detail) about our future site. And! In about a week, we will be snug in the kupey (the middle grade of three types) car of a Kazakhstani train headed across the great steppe toward SATPAEV!!! And the mystery will be no more.

But before we can march triumphantly through the city gates (a purely metaphorical conjecture, at this point at least) we must make it first through Hub Day 2: Electric Boogaloo (it will not involve dancing) and through Counterpart Conference (during which we conference with our counterparts).

Monday's Hub Day. We'll learn, at the last possible minute, the schedule and events for Counterpart Conference. We'll also have an election for VAC (Volunteer Advisory Committee). VAC representatives - two from EDU, two from OCAP - make the trip back to Almaty every three months to update PC staff with complaints, suggestions, etc. (mostly complaints, I'm betting) and discuss policy. I think the overall idea is two-fold: 1. provide PC staff with detailed, intensive feedback that just couldn't happen over the phone or internet and 2. team-building (at least, so says a PCV who served on it for the last two years). So I'll be running for VAC. Which is kind of exciting in itself. I don't think I've run for any kind of representational or political position since...third grade? Not sure. The Kaz diet and extreme PST stress levels haven't exactly improved my already suspiciously terrible memory.

I've finished "Everything Is Illuminated" (did I mention this already?) and would have loved it simply for the zealously-butchered English of the young Ukrainian narator but there was oh so much more. And a fast read, too. Recommended. I also finished "Franny and Zooey," a brief Salinger novel written with incredible force. He gets so much fantastic stuff out of what's basically three conversations. I hope the PC office has some more Salinger laying around...

Now I've begun Garcia Marquez's "Strange Pilgrims," a pack of short stories, which seems promising.

This week, for the first time since being in Kaz, we have been able to watch some high-quality American movies, some ripped from the PC Office computers, others mailed to us (thank you!) by my mom. We've watched half of Season 2 of The Office (again... I could watch it forever) and last night we watched The Prestige which I hadn't seen, thought I would just watch and forget, but actually really enjoyed. When they came out, people seemed to take sides: either you liked The Prestige and hated The Illusionist or vice-versa. But we liked both. Freaks, I guess.

As much excitement as we've had here, and even with all the workload, we can't help but miss you all at home. Most acutely, I wake up every morning thinking it's another day I am across the world from my brother and sister who, it seems, I've only just started to get to know. Most days, I would be happy simply to wave at them from across the ocean. And I know it's been at least as tough on Corinne as it has on me coming to the realization that, yeah, we definitely will not see our family and friends for two years unless they come to visit us. Which is kind of a longshot in every case.

I'm so glad all of you are reading.

Best wishes from Central Asia,
Nick (& Corinne)

A Few More Words on Satpaev

2008-10-05T14:20:00.000+06:00

While I'm sitting in the lounge at PC HQ with oodles and oodles of free internet to spare, I figured I'd take the opportunity to give a more complete picture of our site as we know it so far.

Satpaev is the sister city to neighboring Zhekazgan which is slightly larger in population and only 20 or 30 minutes away. The Zhez (as it will be known from here on out), as of our arrival in November, will be accomodating two Kaz-19 volunteers and two fresh-faced Kaz-20s (charming lads, both) and will therefore more than likely become our primary travel destination over the next two years. The two 20s are our EDU Kaskelen buddy Drew who was one of the first people we met at Staging back in Philly (we liked him immediately) and another great guy from OCAP named Jamie who was in the very first group of Kaz 20s we met in the airport before we even got to Staging itself. We've heard a little bit about the 19s already in The Zhez and they seem substantially nonaxemurderer-ish which is just terrific. I mean, we're as flexible as the next pair of PCVs, but in our hearts we were really hoping for the nonaxemurderer-ish types.

As you can almost see, Zhezkazgan (here missing its beautiful third 'z') is pretty much dead center of the county - halfway between Russia and Uzbekistan; halfway between the Caspian and China. For right now, the most important implication of this location is simply: steppe. That picture I used as a header for our blog will actually turn out to be a fair representation of the landscape that surrounds us for hundreds of miles in every direction. The climate (and I'm citing the internets again here) includes, as I already mentioned, somewhat extreme temperatures, as well as lots of snow and hurricane-force winds (?!?!?!). Good thing I was already planning to get some kick-ass winter boots.

And here's an exclamation point to cap this post off that has nothing to do with Satpaev: it just started storming for the first time since we've been in Kazakhstan! It's rained a little the last few days but I just heard thunder and it is POURING like poo from a Trainee's tuche. Fantastic stuff.

Love from KZ,
Nick (& Corinne)

Post From 2 or Three Weeks Ago

2008-10-05T14:06:00.000+06:00

*** This is not current information but the post that was intended to go up a few weeks back but never made it. It's making it now only because I'm at PC HQ in the city, not our podunk internet cafe. Enjoy! ***

This week, we taught our first two full-length (45 minute) classes. For the debut, we flew solo, our students forced to place complete trust in the products of the American education system. For the sequel, we had to do our first "team teaching" lesson. During PST, team-teaching will apparently go something like this:
1. Communicate poorly, awkwardly, or barely at all with your counterpart teacher, gleaning only that they want you to teach their class exactly like they would.
2. Go home and prepare using every piece of information you have about the Kazakhstani curriculum, your students' level of command over the English language, the methods of local teachers, and the expectations of the Peace Corps. Generally, all these pieces of information come to about the length of this sentence.
3. Enter a panic attack.
4. In a fugue state, crank out a few flip charts that ignore-without-seeming-to-ignore the stated theme of the textbook chapter which more than likely gushes about London in the Queen's English.
5. The next day, lurch nervously around the class for twenty-five minutes, babbling at the students with your crazy American English (that no one understands and some people seem to believe is "wrong").
6. Let your counterpart teacher get up in the second half of class and talk about something you believe to be tangentially related knowing full well that if they want to tell the students that everything in your lesson was wrong and should be ignored they would have no problem doing exactly that (in one of several languages you don't speak, particularly Kazakh, which your friends at the Peace Corps don't speak either) while you smiled idiotically in the back, daydreaming about a jamocha shake and curly fries.

We also had our first Hub Day this week. Half of the Kaz-20s head to PC HQ for a day of sessions which probably could have been done just as easily at our individual sites but, hey, we were freed from our villages and presented with a bunch of OCAP'ers we hadn't seen in a while. Nobody's going to turn that down. So that was Tuesday. The other half of the 20s went on Wednesday.

Thursday the four of us in our language group headed to our country director's blissfully Americanized house in the city for an incredible dinner of guacamole and tortilla chips, real salad with romaine lettuce, baked potatoes, grilled chicken, and BROWNIES. So, so many brownies. After a huge dinner, I managed three with ice cream. I felt a little nauseous but not at all guilty. Besides that, our CD and his wife are terrific people, easy to talk to, very welcoming, and we got to have dinner not only with them but with some pretty terrific EDU trainees from one of the other villages.

Saturday our host family took us back to the city. The stated purpose of the trip was that our host uncle, a great guy, very funny, not much older than us, had won either a washing machine, a Subaru, or a weeklong trip to Europe and was supposed to go find out which. It was crisp and cool outside, our first real fall day, and we first made the drive through the Almaty financial district out to Medeo (the mountain with the enormous skating rink on top) which was lovely but absolutely drowned in fog. On the way back down, we picked up some yummy baked snacks at a магазин.

I don't think I've desribed a магазин (pronounced more or less like "magazine") so I might as well do it here. They're sort of the 7-11s of Kaz but far less standardized. They all have assorted cold beverages, candy bars and some basic toiletries and home supplies. Most have ice cream - some on an American scale. And many have fresh food, be it bread, watermelon, or some kind of sweet baked items, which is what we devoured hungrily after Medeo. One was called a картошка (pronounced like "car-TOE-shka," it means potato) but was made from a sort of chocolate batter like a brownie. Another was a narrow waffle cone filled with "chocolate butter" (which I'm almost positive is literally chocolate and butter, melted and stirred) and topped with some walnuts. Both delicious.

Anyway, once we had some sugar in us, we drove all the way across town to find Sun City, a tourism company. Corinne suspected early on what we might be getting into but when her suspicions that we were actually going to a time share presentation where they hook you by promising grand prizes at the end of three hours and then procede to pedal their time shares at discounted rates meanwhile never intending to give anyone anything were confimed later, it was no less surreal. Having grown up in Virginia Beach where the boardwalk is littered with these exact companies who adhere to these exact business practices, we were slightly distraught to discover that they're beginning to put down roots in Kazakhstan. For our host family, it was a learning experience. For us, it was an out of body where are we what are we doing here experience. But afterwards, in the neon of Almaty at night, we were treated to doner kebabs (flour tortillas filled with french fries, onions, shredded carrots, pickles, cucumbers, ketchup, mayo, and what basically is or strongly resembles fresh, hot, delicious gyro meat) packed to giddy proportions for "the American guests." And it was a terrific Saturday once again.

Sunday I finished "Middlesex" by Jeffrey Eugenides which I picked up at PC HQ during Almaty entry by recommendation, read fervently, and loved a whole, whole lot. Today, I'll start the other book I snagged that day, "Everything Is Illuminated" by Jonathan Safran Foer.

But after I write my lesson plan.

Satpaev, KZ

2008-10-04T18:05:00.000+06:00

I still haven't figured out why the copy/paste/upload functions won't work so it looks like, from now on, everything will be written as I sit at the public computer. Not my favorite, to say the least.

The big news this week was SITE ANNOUNCEMENT. Some of you may not know that SITE ANNOUNCEMENT is the most anticipated day in a Kaz Trainee's feeble, confusing life. During SITE ANNOUNCEMENT each Trainee discovers his or her very own custom-fitted destination for two years of hardy Kaz livin' where everything fits just right (as just right as it could possibly be, anyway). OR you learn that PC thinks your opinion is retarded and puts you where they want.

It seemed to go about half and half, our friends tending toward the latter half. Aaaaaand as for the Hubers...we were in the middle. Like, literally. Exactly the middle of the country. Just us, a mid-sized city, and steppe, steppe, steppe. (Mentioning the other PCVs nearby would dim the drama, I think).

Our town is called Satpaev which is Russian for "THE GREATEST PLACE YOU WILL EVER HOPE TO GO IN THE SOUTHWESTERN PART OF KARAGANDY OBLAST." I know that the town's famous for copper mines. And nearby Zhezkazgan hosted a charming gulag in Soviet days.

The internets tell me that Satpaev is larger than Kaskelen which is fairly impressive by Kaz PC standards but not exactly New York City. Or even Norfolk. A quick search also revealed some not-so-trustworthy climate information (research and verify this for me pronto, thanks): average temperature in January: 3 Fahrenheit; average temperature in July: 75 Fahrenheit. I mistrust this information only because it sounds so, so good.

We're generally happy with our placement. Not quite as close to Russia as I'd hoped to be to become a Russian-pro and stack up the full rides to Princeton, Yale, and Berkeley comp. lit. programs but I think we'll get by.

Any info you can find on Satpaev, Zhezkazgan, or our region in Kaz would be super duper swell to hear.

I'll get back when I can.

Love all around,
Nick (& Corinne)

Problems

2008-09-26T17:22:00.000+06:00

First, the internet cafe was closed last week. I'd typed out a nice long post about our first classes, et cetera, but had nowhere to put it.

So here we are the internet cafe a week later. I've got my post from last week saved on the flash drive. I open it in MS Word as usual, copy, head to Blogger, hit "CTRL+V" to paste a hundred times and nothing happens.

I would simply rewrite it from the Word version except that whenever I open Word, Firefox closes. When I open Firefox, Word closes.

So let me, in the few minutes I have left after trying (and failing) to figure this all out (having already spent too much of the meager PC allowance on this), tell you what's gone on the best I can remember.

Last week, we started teaching classes in earnest. Each school is organized differently but they all seem to have forty-five minute classes, a few classes per shift, a few shifts per day. So, during PST, we don't simply dress up nice and then stand in front of the class speaking in English. We, of course, have to make detailed lesson plans that account for all the time in the class, all the material we're supposed to cover according to the local teacher and the standard text book (which is not only in British English but, often, completely and wildly erroneous and silly), while engaging all the students and representing PC/America the best we can. All the nice things a teacher should do.

This week was the same, but more. More classes along with language, sessions, mental adjustment, trying to spend time with a host family who is allowing you to stay in there house, etc. etc.

I'm out of time.

Hopefully next week will be better.

Sorry for the lack of finesse. Hope everything's great back in the states.

Love!

The classes have been, generally, pretty good.

Pictures are up!

2008-09-16T15:30:00.001+06:00

Check down a few posts for a limited number of pictures. More soon, I hope.

Initial Adjustment

2008-09-15T18:05:00.000+06:00

Saturday, we went to the symphony.

I have to say that the symphony here in Kaz is really not so different from the symphonies in America: lovely music, charming atmospheres, poor attendance. This night, however...this particular night the small-by-American-standards Kaz Concert Hall (I'm actually almost positive this is its exact name) was stuffed with a few dozen overworked, undershowered American twenty-somethings and their obliging staff.

The way it worked was this.

We have a doctor (PCMO***) here in Kaz. His name is Victor. In the most practical sense, his job during PST is to travel a few times a week between the villages giving lectures on PC's health policies and particular health concerns in Kaz. Outside of PST, i.e. once we enter actual service, our dear PCMO is the great medical interpreter: we call him, explain that we have had painful urination for two days straight, he gives us the bad news, etc. But this week, aside from reminding us about the benefits of twice-a-day flossing, Victor made mention that the Kazakhstan national symphony orchestra (no clue as to the official name but that, I suppose, could be it) began its season and a few of the university trainees had attended the first performance. You should know that during PST, a PCT is an emotionally volatile creature. If not for this simple fact, if not for every PCT who heard this feeling instantaneous and irrational jealousy for having missed out on a cultural event in the big city, I expect tonight's attendance would have been lower by a few dozen. Even for those of us who love symphony orchestras (and Corinne and I do) it may have been a miss due to exhaustion and mild sickness. But. The university kids got to do it. And now we've just gotta keep up with them Joneses, ain't that right? (Besides, we're all very grateful to Victor and want to "make his heart happy." Especially if we can do that by listening to beautiful music.)

So something like thirty volunteers (almost all EDUs, excluding a few with prior PC engagements and one with a sick host mom - hope she feels better, and two OCAPs), spearheaded by fearless, flexible staff members, marshultka'd into Almaty for the latter half of a warm Saturday in September. They played Dvorak, Mussorgsky (whose name I can't spell regardless of language), and some other rollicking 20th century piece (missed out on a program - bummer). For Corinne and I, it was a special birthday treat. The symphony itself was only 400 tenge per ticket (a little less than $8 for two of us) but we had a slightly surreal, slightly expensive, entirely delicious meal at the American Bar and Grill. I got my hamburger. We both did, actually. Could be the last one for two years. If it was, we went out strong.

This week was good. Some of us (myself included) taught at the front of a classroom for the first time in our careers and, as far as I've heard, it all went well. I, being somewhat obsessed with the topic, did a sketch of strictly American styles of music for the kids. We listened to samples of Blind Willie McTell, Johnny Cash, John Coltrane, CCR, A Tribe Called Quest, and even The Dismemberment Plan (which a few of them pronounced correctly, I might add). Corinne taught her class a song. The kids go crazy for music.

Which brings me to our first English Club. While two of us pathetically tried to explain/translate/reinvent/abandon the rules to HORSE, Corinne taught American dances to an auditorium of eager feet. Our sad sack of b-ball culminated with thirty-some Kazakh kids we didn't recognize shooting (and missing) in a flutter of Russian, Kazakh, and giggles that was completely beyond our comprehension. And...in the rain. Meanwhile, Corinne's group, all sunshine and bubbles at this point, pranced giddily into the courtyard clad in golden dance shoes to resplendent choirs of angels piping up a strikingly hip rendition of "The Electric Slide." That was Wednesday.

Also club-related: I learned that another volunteer in my language group knows how to play "SPUD" which came as an absolute shock to me, having nearly forgotten the game which filled months and months of my childhood with simple joy. Throw the ball in the air, call a number, run, peg a person as hard as you can, learn a life lesson (thanks, mom!).

An even bigger shock came when I found myself on the receiving end of a half-English, half-Russian description of the movie "Baby's Day Out." Even typing it now I can't process that. "BABY'S DAY OUT" MADE IT TO KAZAKHSTAN. This is a strange, wonderful world.

Of course, the most important part of the week was (as you might have already gleened from the second paragraph) Corinne's twenty-third birthday! She was practically showered with Kazakhstani presents - from handshakes to new foods to a custom t-shirt to a trip to the banya, supplies included. And then our host family made hot dogs and french fries! Even better, we had (in a stroke of brilliant premonition), popped in the store earlier that day to pick up a birthday cake and real Heinz Ketchup. No more sugary soup tomato paste, baby. The real McCoy. And not even that expensive.

Which brings me to this week's self-discovery. I say "self" but I'm definitely not alone here. Even if you didn't really like something in the States, if you see it here in its American form you're going to at least sample a bit of someone else's if not buy your own. For instance, I don't really love ketchup all that much. I respect its function as a condiment, take my fries plainly salted or, if the sogginess of sweetened food pulp must come into play, I generally go with the ketchup/mayo mix. But a few days ago Heinz was the closest to heaven to we could get and we relished it. Har har har. Another example: Corinne and I don't usually drink much soda/cola/pop. But Coke is Coke and Pepsi is Pepsi and orange Fanta is actually really good. Not to mention I need something to cut through the dry sandwiches and the inch of road dust constantly caked on the roof of my mouth. So we drink it.

Sunday (the day of this writing) we had some friends from another village over to 1) continue to celebrate Corinne's birthday and 2) be our honored first guests in Kazakhstan. Unfortunately, our host family was either absent or asleep so no one met anyone else. But hey, we got to play some Skip-Bo, speak a whole lot of English, and eat some tacos (thanks Mom <3 Corinne) which, all limitations considered, were truly outstanding. And we learned how to play Phase 10 which would become a heinous, disgusting addiction if I had a deck of my own. International stocking stuffers, anyone? I'll be waiting.

***Need a guide for the acronyms? Peace Corps uses a lot. This is just the tip of the iceberg's tip.
PC - Peace Corps (but, um...hopefully you don't need to consult the key for this one)
PCT - Peace Corps Trainee
PCV - Peace Corps Volunteer
PST - Pre-Service Training
PCMO - Peace Corps Medical Officer
EDU - Education, one half of the PC's program in Kaz
OCAP - Organizational...something with...management...the other half of PC's program in Kaz

Education

2008-09-07T14:26:00.000+06:00

27 things I've learned during the first three weeks in PC Kazakhstan.
by Nick Huber

1. Don't drink alone at night.
2. Roosters do not crow a single time at dawn.
3. Russian grammar makes even less sense than English grammar.
4. Kazakhstanis like to make generalizations like this one.
5. Snickers: not internationally standardized.
6. I think about hamburgers. A lot.
7. Everybody likes ice cream.
8. Americans do not walk nearly enough.
9. Just about every Kazakhstani school child can say "hello."
10. If you answer a school child's "hello" with anything other than "hello," you've wandered outside their knowledge base.
11. Watermelon is the most perfect food.
12. A Kazakhstani driver can thread a Suburban through a hoola-hoop at 40kmph.
13. Stale bread is still bread.
14. If you use the polite form of "what is your name?" when addressing a five year old, people will laugh at you.
15. Ketchup: not internationally standardized.
16. Mustard is a luxury.
17. You can crack mildly amusing jokes in a language with only 4 or 5 words in your personal lexicon.
18. There are more advertisements for and pictures of hamburgers in Almaty than there are actual patties.
19. I could not do this without music.
20. You're never too old for a nice, wholesome condom demonstration with a dozen people you just met.
21. Even Kazakhstanis know Whitney Houston has got some problems.
22. I never ever ever want to get tetanus or round worms. Ever.
23. Tetanus and round worms: not so much a threat in Kaz.
24. At some point, a fourth grader is probably going to ask me to translate "Milkshake" or "Baby Got Back."
25. Smiling is for suckers.
26. My greatest fear: At 3AM I awake from a deep sleep into almost total darkness and fumble my way downstairs in search of life-reviving, PC-sanctioned, distilled/filtered water. Groggily, I pull open the fridge and reach for the bottle as the sheep skull on the top shelf rotates to look at me with its bleak, sunken sockets. The voice that hisses out of its black teeth is shrill and inhuman: "Do you have my tailypoo?"
27. I am so glad I'm here with my wife.
________________________

Yesterday was our Almaty entry, the milestone of free travel for we wee Trainees. Prior to Almaty entry, we were limited to our own villages, a token visit to another village for a safety or health session, or any place our host families deemed appropriate. But that all changes now (as long as we notify our LCFs, of course). Today, for instance, a friend of ours traveled into another village to visit some friends and then into Almaty to play in a pickup game of ultimate frisbee that happens every Sunday. That's a scenario I definitely could not have imagined a week ago.

A few of us playing live-action Frogger.

But more about Almaty entry itself: what did we actually do in the city, you may wonder. For the most part, we just walked. I think that 30% of a PCV's time in country is probably spent walking and I can imagine that figure sneaking up to around 40% in certain other PC countries (like...almost all of them), particularly in the Africa region. But Almaty is a fairly nice place to see on foot - walking south, you're heading uphill toward the Tian Shan mountains; north, you're walking downhill. And in a sweet piece of magic, the range around Almaty was covered overnight Friday with fresh, crystalline powder making the sights just a bit more enjoyable.

We headed to the PC compound, saw some other volunteers, noted the shower/toilet/coffee and checked out books from the surprisingly extensive PC library which we were told was probably missing a lot of stuff mostly do to the recently COSing volunteers. Then we hopped on a bus that took us to cell phone purchasing opportunities (got mine for 5000 tenge or about $50 - 1000 tenge cheaper than in our town, which was nice) and, more importantly, were directed by fellow volunteers to a coffee shop run by a guy from Boston (!) who roasts his own beans locally (!!) and can basically do whatever your favorite coffee shop back home could do (!!!). There was a fair consensus that this guy needs to branch out, embrace the chain thing.

Nick w/ Cafe au Lait; Corinne w/ Iced Coffee. Happy happy happy.

We exchanged some currency, checked out the zilyonih (green) bazaar and walked a ton more. We saw the city's mosque and famous orthodox church. I'm not sure if I personally missed the stats on these structures or if they simply weren't given but at the moment I can't tell you if there are other mosques/churches around, if those are the largest, the most famous, etc. I know they were both very pretty. And at the church we caught a bit of service that featured a lot of lovely singing. (Sass: on) But hey, I'm a volunteer not an encyclopedia. Google it! (Sass: off) And right next to the church is Almaty's enormous square dedicated to the soldiers of WWII.

The mosque.

Looking very American in front of the mosque.

At the WWII memorial.

It was nice to do something new that wasn't so weighted with responsibility. It was great to talk movies, music, books, philosophy, and Street Fighter II Turbo in something resembling fluent thought for a few hours. And even though I'm not sure I actually like Almaty, it was definitely nice to see some things the city has to offer.

The church.

Yesterday, we also found out that another volunteer from our site was going to ET. His flight back to the states leaves either this morning or the next. He was the oldest in our town and didn't seem to be adapting to PC life or the language with particular zeal so, as sad as it is, it wasn't, in all honesty, too much of a surprise. What sucks most is that, of the four total volunteers to leave, three have been from our town. We know (hope, at least) we personally aren't doing anything to affect this but...seriously...three out of four? It's a little absurd. It feels like PC is testing us.

Small potatoes, as they say.

But just to pour a little salt in it, there was a fire a few days ago in our big general store that engulfed two of the four floors and, sadly, claimed two lives (at least that's the word around town). I don't think any volunteers knew anyone affected by the fire - upwards of 10,000 people live here, for sure, so it's unlikely anyway - but the place is very large, very visible, and was frequented regularly by trainees.

Boy, I hate to end this on a depressing note like that - it wasn't really a depressing week. We learned how to make lesson plans, decided (sort of) on adult English lessons for our community project, learned about and made signs for our English club that starts Wednesday, and learned a lot of new things in Russian. And! our beloved LCF who began the week very ill is back in full force, delivering an onslaught of Russian cases and tenses to make up for lost time.

One of our eye-grabbing "PEACE CORPS SAYS YOU BEST LEARN YOU SOME ENGLISH" posters.

We haven't gotten any mail yet but we haven't figured out how to send any either. We visited KazPost a few days ago and holy god was it chaotic. Essentially, it was a just one big room with a counter and hundreds of people all facing different directions talking/yelling/glaring at each other. There didn't appear to be any rule other than "Whoever bowls over the most babushkas on the way to the counter gets to send a letter." So we abandoned KazPost for the day. We'll try again this week. Also - thanks to another volunteer for the envelopes! Saved us a lot of pathetic searching. And while I'm thinking about it - if you haven't noticed, we don't use names other than our own - a little fuzzy on the PC policy so we're erring on the side of no names/locations ever. But she knows who she is.

Finally, thanks to those of you who are reading this blog for the encouragement and love. We're glad we can keep you updated while we can because come November 7 everything's up in the air again and we'll probably end up with, for all intents and purposes, no internet access at all. We all miss home but we're all doing well, happy to be here, and genuinely desirable to do all the good we can. If you're a parent, sibling, friend, relative, neighbor, acquaintance, pet of another trainee, thank you for supporting them. This country wants and needs their help as much as their fellow volunteers do. So...not that we have to tell you, but...be proud and be confident of their abilities. From what I can see, these are tough, brilliant people. The time is gonna fly.

And more pictures! Woo! ...Most of which probably should have been posted last week. Oh well.

Some great people relaxing in Philly.

Some more great people relaxing in Philly. You can't really tell, but we're seated at a glass coffin in a place called "Eulogy."

The airline gave us free food and beer. In all honesty, it didn't really make up for it but even Peace Corps Volunteers aren't going to turn down free food and beer.

The sunrise. Pictures out the airplane window over the wing do the real thing no justice at all. But I figured I should stick one in.

My flowers on the first day of school. Unlike another lucky volunteer, I did not get a kiss from our handsome school director. Next year, maybe.

At school. One of us invested in transitions lenses. The other probably should have.

PC HQ

2008-09-06T13:09:00.000+06:00

We're using the free internet at the Peace Corps Headquarters in Almaty right now which is pretty exciting. We just saw the Almalibak folks which was thrilling and they all look very healthy and happy. Very good news! We do love our Almalibakers.* We're supposed to be seeing a few OCAP kiddies pretty soon...

HQ has five bookshelves of (mostly) English language novels and books (including roughly ten copies of Henry James "The Wings of the Dove" for whatever reason...?) and some nice offices for PC staff, etc.

Tomorrow will bring another shiny new post (hopefully) but it's saved on my laptop so I can't post it now...gotta wait.

Okay! That's it.

Love,
Nick (& Corinne)

*We love our Chemalganers too but we see them way more often.

HEY! WE LIVE IN KAZAKHSTAN!

2008-09-01T18:28:00.000+06:00

Our first view of Kazakhstan was sunrise from the window of the plane. It's impossible to recreate the boldness and breadth of the colors poured over the atmosphere - gigantic swathes of red wine, purple velvet, and orange cream. It was unlike any sunrise I'd ever seen and, even from the claustrophobic cabin of the second 7+ hour flight of the day, those last few minutes before true morning were majestic, surreal, and unforgettable.

Had we arrived as planned, it would have been in absolute darkness.

Tuesday, August 19 we finished up a fantastic three days called Staging - an orientation event consisting of ice breakers and general Peace Corps policy sessions with 60 other remarkably friendly volunteers and 5 or 6 members of PC staff - and hopped on a bus for the big apple where we hopped on a plane for Frankfurt where we hopped on a plane for Almaty.

Okay, it wasn't quite that easy. It was a long bus ride to NYC - 2 hours to the city and almost 2 hours through it. It was a long wait in JFK airport. It was a long flight to Frankfurt. Then it was a long layover in Frankfurt which grew longer by the hour. We "disembarked" around 7:30am and were to depart around noon. We were told that our craft's landing gear was not in working order and that, even more than they value timeliness, Lufthansa values safety. Which is fantastic - no one wants a plane that can't land but no one wants to sit in the construction wing of the Frankfurt airport for 12 hours either. So while we were originally scheduled to arrive in Almaty at 11:40pm, get to sleep around midnight and wake up at 8 for breakfast and training, we instead arrived in Almaty around 6am - just in time to go straight to training with no sleep (economy class, non-airconditioned jet-lag sleep on an aircraft packed full of grumpy, unbathed people has very little effect other than disorientation).

The details of Almaty...

For our two days there, we stayed at a nice hotel-like place with lots of trees and the separation of OCAP and EDU Volunteers took full effect: separate living quarters, separate lessons, etc. We were greeted with a culture show (singing, dancing, slideshows, lots of fun things), hard candy was thrown at us while the PC staff yelled a Kazakh greeting over and over, and the (some would say) greatest apples on the face of planet earth were placed into the hands of 62 naive Peace Corps Volunteers. My apple was good - not great - but I heard others chomp into different varieties exclaiming such incredulities as "THESE APPLES ARE UNBELIEVABLE" or "I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS AN APPLE" or "WOW, THIS APPLE IS SO GOOD IT'S INCREDIBLE."

Corinne and I discovered that we would be learning Russian, would not be separated (!!!), and would be living in a town outside of Almaty with ten other EDU Volunteers (all terrific people, by the way). The remaining EDU folks were split into two villages - another twelve in another Russian-speaking site right next to ours and ten in a Kazakh-speaking site further down the highway. All twenty OCAP Volunteers, on the other hand, live together for PST (Pre-Service Training - i.e. the first three months in country) in a town far away from ours so from here on out I can only assume the OCAP kids just went to their village and that's that. I can't say for sure - I wasn't there.

From our hotel, each of the 42 EDU Volunteers dumped his or her 100lbs of checked baggage, two carryon bags, and 40 extra pounds of raw Peace Corps medical kit (more on this later) into a very unofficial-looking truck or his/er very own lap aboard a genuine Kaz charter bus.

We departed for the first training site!

We arrived! Safely! When the bus pulled up to the school, a flood of excited host moms, host dads, host brothers and host sisters issued from its doors waving signs bearing the name of their volunteer while the children waved to the other Americans on the bus. Another moment I will never forget. I'll take that one over the sunrise any day.

We departed for OUR training site!

We arrived! Safely! Two for two! When the bus pulled up to the school, a few errant host family members trickled/lumbered/loitered down in the bus's general direction but just about all of them stopped at the school's steps. Fresh off the aforementioned cuddly meeting at the first site, we dozen fresh-faced young volunteers rushed through an awkward turnstile-fashion metal gate and up to the steps of the school where a few found their families right away. But after 3 or 4 minutes had passed, it was clear that some of our host families just weren't there. We went back to unload the truck and wait. By the time we threw everyone's 100lbs of checked baggage, two carryon bags, and 40 extra pounds of raw Peace Corps medical kit to the ground, nearly everyone had found their host family. It was a happy occassion for them, though to compare it to the first meeting would be somewhat crude. Then there were three: myself, Corinne, and another female volunteer. It wasn't easy waiting while staff members we'd met only once before inferred to us in euphemisms that we may no longer have host families and it definitely wasn't easy believing that we may just be unwanted, our metric ton of belongings displayed in the evening sun. At one point, Corinne and I were told we'd be moving in with our technical trainer. A few minutes later, the other volunteer was told the same. But PC staff rushed around and rushed around, shouting in Russian, trying to console us and to remind us that flexibility is (probably) the most important characteristic of a PCV.

I'm happy to tell you that our host families did finally show up - just not in the form we had expected. The other volunteer's host mom came first, evidently asking frantically (in Russian) "where is my daughter?" She was hugged and whisked away. Our family showed up in the form of two small girls - one our age and one much younger. Definitely not host parents. We were incredibly confused and have only just recently been straightened out. So let me explain our host family.

Our host mom is a single mother of two and works as a pediatrician (or something more specific to do with blood) in Almaty. Evidently, she's fairly famous in her field. Her son lives here but we only saw him the first day. Where he is, I don't know. We should probably ask. Our host mom's brother owns the house we are staying in and is the one who invited us here but is a business man and out of town very often. On the flip side, he's very well traveled, speaks a bit of English, seems to understand American habits better than any other local we've met, has a great respect for America in general, and just seems like an overall nice, family-focused kind of guy.

The house we live in is frequented by many nieces and nephews so it's been difficult not only remembering the names and saying them accurately but trying to match names with faces. It seems like everyday a new member of the family shows up at random and we have have one more name to either forget or butcher. Our family, though, is wonderful. They are welcoming, funny, and very patient with our abysmal Russian (not to mention our nonexistant Kazakh). And their house is far more than Peace Corps said we would have - an American shower and toilet, TVs and DVD players, and plenty of privacy and personal space. No AC, no internet, but we weren't expecting either (though secretly hoping for the latter). Living in a separate building from the rest of the family can be kind of a bummer though. So much focus has been placed on integration that, even though we're getting along and trying to behave like family members, it's tough to not feel like a guest living in the guest suite.

The food so far has run the gamut: unfamiliar and delicious, familiar and delicious, and unfamiliar and basically inedible to the American palate. We've had Kazakhstani ketchup (oddly sweet and even less like tomatoes than American ketchup) and Kazakhstani Snickers (not the same). We've also had Pepsi (exactly the same) and Mirinda (basically Sunkist with a different name). We've had many local staples including besbarmak (the Kazakh national food with noodles, meat, and onions customarily served the night guests arrive), plov (an Uzbek dish that's basically rice and meat and very yummy), and others with names that evade my understanding. And though we have yet to be served an entire sheep's head (aside: there is, in fact, a skull sitting in our fridge), we've had balls of yogurt mixed with salt that sat in the sun to dry for weeks on end called "kort." They taste exactly how they sound. We've had instant coffee a few times (Nescafe, just like I'd heard) but mostly tea tea tea tea tea tea tea tea tea tea galore. So much tea. We reach for the khylep and discover it's actually more tea. We pee tea. We try to say "zdrasvuytye!" but it comes out "chai!"

The weather has been lovely in the mornings and evenings and oppressively hot at midday. Our window has no blinds so we wake every morning to the beating sun, a dozen barking dogs that sound like they're under our bed, and a rooster that not only doesn't know when dawn is but continues to guess (incorrectly) all day long. But life is good.

Sadly, three PCVs have already ET'd (Early Terminated). We're told this is fairly normal as people begin to decide is Kazakhstan (or the Peace Corps in general) is really right for them for a full two years but it was especially hard for us because the first two were in our language group - originally only six, now down to four - and the third was a girl in OCAP that Corinne got to know and like during Staging. Who knows, maybe by the time you read this someone else will have left. I wish I had some statistics on the percentage of volunteers to complete their service in Kazakhstan or even just generally.

Oh! Sort of to counterbalance the ETs, we've been told some of the Georgia volunteers may be coming to live in Kaz! Exciting for us because our group will grow again but definitely a bummer for them - they'll have to go through PST all over again: new language, new customs, new host families, new difficulties. Anyway, it's just speculation at this point.

We've been training all week. School starts Monday. Ramadan starts soon.

I said I'd talk more about the Peace Corps medical kit and I will. But not now.

We love you all, thanks for reading. We're thinking of you.

Nick (& Corinne)

PS - Write us! The address is over there ---->

A few important dates for us:

September 6: Almaty entry (after this point we're allowed to travel out of site on our own)
September 11: Corinne's birthday!
October 4: Site announcement (we find out where we'll be living for the next two years)November 7: Swearing in/end of PST

Kaskelen, KZ

2008-08-26T16:53:00.001+06:00

We're safe! More later!

Our First Day

2008-08-21T19:58:00.000+06:00

Today is our first full day in Kazakhstan! We're probably taking an interview to help determine where we'll be placed for the 6 months post-PST (pre-service training...which is 3 months). So wish us luck!

I wish I could report for certain that Almaty is a beautiful and fascinating place with many charming locales and lovely people but this was written in advance because we likely don't have internet access at the moment you're reading this (Wednesday or Thursday...no one seems to be too confident with the time changes).

We'll be back in touch ASAP!

Love,
Nick (and Corinne)

The Big Day

2008-08-19T09:10:00.000+06:00

WE LEAVE FOR KAZAKHSTAN TOMORROW!!!

Don't forget to write.

:-)

Welcome!

2008-07-08T04:36:00.000+06:00

Thanks for visiting our blog! This is our first post in what we hope will become a regularly updated guide to our time training, teaching, and living in Kazakhstan as Peace Corps volunteers.

Regularly updated, it should be noted, does not necessarily mean frequently updated. We may have daily access to the internet or we may only be able to update at the rare internet cafe once every few months. Whatever way the cookie crumbles, we'll try to make each post as detailed and exhaustive as possible. And there will be pictures! Almost certainly.

If you haven't already read it, the e-mail we sent out when we received our official PC invitation is posted below (called "Invitation Notice") and contains all the essential details we've been told about our assignments in Kazakhstan. Notice that it's only a few paragraphs long...

Also, if you're wondering about the name of our blog or whether we represent the official views of the Peace Corps (two guesses), a few quick and utterly riveting notes about the blog are listed just to the right of this post.

Over there ------>

Yep. That's it.

Aaaand if you're Johnny-I-read-4,000-words-a-minute-and-I'm-done-with-everything-already, feel free to peruse this Peace Corps Welcome Book to Kazakhstan.* The Welcome Book covers (in the most general terms) the cultures and languages to which we'll be introduced, the vaguest notions of our assignments, what kind of food/fashion/radiation poisoning we can count on, and even a few low quality pictures representing the big Kaz. But be warned: it's 105 pages of unapologetic .pdf file. Probably not best consumed in one sitting.

Finally, if you have any questions or comments or snide Central Asia jokes, feel free to reply to this post and we'll get back to you in two shakes of a headless goat carcass.

*Full disclosure: I have no idea if I'm "allowed" to post a link to this, but it's easy enough to find them just by Googling so I figure, why not?

Invitation Notice

2008-06-24T04:12:00.000+06:00

Dear friends and family,

Just a few hours ago, Corinne and I received our official invitations to serve in the Peace Corps!

Our placement officer, who has been helping us along the past couple of weeks and has done phenomenal things getting our applications through with the most unbelievable speed, is Patrick Carey so we'll let him tell you what he told us:

Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that we invite you to begin training in Kazakhstan for Peace Corps service. You will be joining thousands of Americans who are building stronger communities around the world. This call to action gives you the opportunity to learn new skills and to find the best in yourself.

YAY! Thanks, Patrick!

So here's the official information:

Country of Service: Kazakhstan
Dates of Service: August 18, 2008 - November 7, 2010 (back just in time for my little brother's 21st birthday party!)
Job Title: Primary School Teacher, Corinne; Secondary School Teacher, Nick. (Side note: English will be the focus of the teaching [for me especially] but technology will also come into play.)
Orientation Dates: August 18-19, 2008
Pre-Service Training (in Kazakhstan): August 21 - November 7, 2008

We don't know all the details of our training/service locales yet, but I believe we'll know more once we officially accept our invitations, which we have to do in the next ten days. We have a boatload of reading and writing to do and we haven't even received our welcome booklet yet! We have to write Aspiration Statements and Resumes for our country's staff, fill out all kinds visa and passport forms (even though we both have passports, we have to get new ones from the Peace Corps), and work out all of our financial and loan arrangements. This is not to mention packing and all the other preparations one makes when leaving friends, family, home, country, and everything they've ever known for more than two years. A ton to accomplish in two months!

We'll keep you updated as updates arrive.

Trust us when we say that as soon as we get any information at all, we're going to tell everyone we see - we're more excited than you can possibly imagine. :-)

Thanks again for all your support and encouragement along the way. It means everything.

Best always,
Nick (& Corinne) Huber