The battle for my independence

In college, my friends wanted to make a rush t-shirt that said "Sigma Pi: Resisting the rule of King George III since 1776." The back would have a 'roid-raging George Washington punching a Redcoat. Although the shirt is a joke, from the first day I've arrived in Kazakhstan, I've felt like I have been waging my own personal battle for my independence and sanity. This week I feel like I have finally won that battle. For the first time since last August, I can say that I am comfortable with my level of independence.

Then my host family asked me to stay for another 6 months, and I agreed.

Yes, I willingly decided to double my time with my host family. I realize this may not make any sense. Usually at the first opportunity many volunteers move out. It's understandable. Many of the Peace Corps volunteers I have met here are mentally tough, independent people who can take care of themselves and chafe at anyone attempting to take care of them. For many pcvs, well, many Americans, (and myself included), independence is measured by being able to do whatever one wants, whenever one wants to, in the manner of their choosing. With a host family, that sort of independence can be hard to find. Usually, this sort of independence can only be achieved by moving out.

Perhaps I've lucked out, but I have achieved that sort of independence with my host family. I cook what I want. I leave and arrive when I want. I load my own laundry and hang it out to dry (but my host sister pushes the buttons. I don't understand the washing machine).

Together, we have set boundaries. This has come from trial and error, a little bit of screaming from everyone, some cultural exchanges, but most importantly a lot of communicating and listening. Together we have learned that both Russian and American cultures highly value respect, kindness, family, and doing what is right. We have different ways of expressing those things, but the basic ideals are there. Once I and my host family realized that we have this commonality, living got a lot easier.

They know that although I am young, I've lived on my own (defined by not sleeping in my parents house) since I was 18. They know that I've done my own laundry since I was 12 (and I know how to hand wash!), and I can cook a variety of dishes that are good. My mom taught me well. They also know that they do not have to watch me; that they are not my babysitters, and I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

I now know that the reason why they ask the "10,000 questions" such as: if I've eaten (at least 4 times every day), if I'm cold, where I'm going, what I'm doing, how long I'll be there, who I'll be going with, how I'm getting there, how I'm getting back, picking at my shoes and hair, putting the extra monti on my plate when I am full, and my personal favorite "oh god it's cold outside wear a coat" when it is sunny and 60. They ask not because they think that I can't take care of myself. It is simply because they care about me.

I decided to stay for 6 more months not because Peace Corps said I must, but because I genuinely like them. I have learned that the feeling is mutual. So for now, my host family and I are happy co-existing and will be doing so hopefully for another 6 months.

Burning outhouses

My woes with fire continue. However, this time it wasn't my fault.

 

…The reason why I couldn't talk on Sunday was because we were putting out a fire. My host sister burned down the outhouse. She didn't do it on purpose. Luckily, everyone thought it was hilarious, except my host sister, who was very embarrassed. Nobody was hurt, everyone was fine, although we got soaked carrying buckets of water.

 

My host family has a plot of land that I didn't even know existed where they grow lots of vegetables. It's hidden behind the back yard by a grove of trees, and the gate is impossible to find unless you know what you are looking for. I didn't know that it existed until we cleared it out for planting.

 

Anyway, we were clearing the land by lighting fires to burn off the brush. Smokie the Bear would not approve and neither did I because it was so windy. Nevertheless we piled brush and sticks, and burned them. We raked and burned leaves. We burned the trash from the winter. This is a normal thing here, because there is no trash service in Karabulak.

 

We burned the old toilet paper last. (in Kazakhstan, never throw toilet paper down the toilet or in an outhouse! It can clog the drain and doesn't decompose well...and that can lead to really awkward situations.) My host sister lit the paper in a tin can next to the outhouse, and then left. She probably should have stayed and watched it. Nobody else was outside: I was in the house reading a book, my host brother was watching a movie, and my host mom was lighting the petchka. Because it was so windy, the flames jumped to the wooden outhouse and it went up like a Christmas tree. It hasn't rained in days, so it burned pretty fast.

 

I think our neighbors said that we could use their outhouse until we build a new one, but I'm not sure. That will be a funny conversation I will have with them later...but such is life here…

 

Still Around

I haven't updated this in awhile (or been on the internet) because…*surprise!* I've been very busy. The first part of March was boring, but somewhere in the middle of March into April everything started to seemingly happen at once. Most of it was good such as:

• Attending a conference in Almaty where I saw a lot of the Kaz 20's OCAP's. I learned some new stuff, and it was a bit startling to me to see how much some of them had changed since November. It was awesome to see how some of them have grown; the difference in some is like night and day. The other good thing about the conference is that now my organization has a better idea of how I can assist them better, so I expect to be busy in the months ahead.
  

  
   

• Fulfilling a promise to my first host family. Before I left my first host family in Issyk, I promised them that I would come back to visit. I had lunch with them, and we talked about beshbarmak, shooting dogs (Issyk had a rabies outbreak a couple of years ago…maybe?), and life in general. However, the important thing was that we talked. For over an hour and a half. They are great people; I'll never forget them.
  

  
   

• Finding the best (and cheapest) Chinese food restaurant in Almaty. This happened quite by accident; I was hanging out with 6 educational volunteers, and we came across this restaurant called "Princess". We shared 6 dishes for about 600 tenge each. Can't beat that!
  

  
   

• Beginning to plan my summer. I plan on going to a couple of camps and take a short trip to Kyrgyzstan. I've found some cool people to go with. It looks like I will have the chance to throw a snowball in summer!
  

At the same time, some of it wasn't that good such as:

• Attending that conference in Almaty (the same one). While I learned a lot and saw people I had not seen since November, the days were long and busy, I suffered from information overload, became burnt out and discouraged, and the food wasn't that good.
  

  
   

• Falling into the trap of comparing my work to other volunteers. This is a tough one to admit. Especially with OCAP volunteers, the work that we do is so varied and different that comparing work is impossible and only leads to negative feelings. It wasn't jealousy that I felt (on the contrary, I'm so happy of the efforts and accomplishments of my friends and colleagues here), but it made me very discouraged because my impact on my NGO and in Karabulak so far has been minimal. On paper, I've done practically nothing for Karabulak and for my NGO. I have raised no money for my NGO, haven't started any new programs, haven't won any grants (yet!), and haven't made an impact on Karabulak. However this doesn't mean that what I have done is not important. It's all about the little things. I have plenty of little accomplishments, but somewhere between March and April I forgot that, and thankfully a conversation with a Kaz 19 put things back into perspective for me.
  

  
   

• A frightening trip in Taldy Korgan. It is my favorite city in Kazakhstan and it is on my personal top ten of coolest cities that I've visited. However, it is a city, and just like with every city and place in the world, from Rome to Memphis to Budapest to Kingston, there are people who are shady and places to stay away from. Somewhere in March I forgot that, and while everything is fine, it was a warning shot across my bow that I will never forget.
  

  
   

• Experiencing burn out/exhaustion. I have basically been working 6 days a week since November. There were a lot of holidays in December/January, but while these don't count officially, they sort of do because I was speaking Russian, learning about the community, and participating in cultural events. During the conference I got weary. It was a feeling worse than being tired. I'm still trying to work through that.
  

  
   

And some of it was very weird such as:

• An encounter with the Karabulak Dog Fleet: a mass of about 30 dogs that rampage through Karabulak at dusk eating chickens and other dogs. I didn't think I was in any danger as these dogs closed down the main road, but I had my rock out and ready. I don't expect anyone to believe this, but I know what I saw.
  

  
   

• Inheriting an English class. There was a young woman who I helped way back in December by teaching her interview skills and doing a mock interview. She ended up getting accepted to British exchange program to learn about volunteering and assisting NGO's. I took over her class in her absence. There are only 4 students all applying to university to become translators. However, they are all teenagers; so once again, I'm learning how to present information in a manner that will keep them from falling asleep.
  

  
   

• Going to a fish store with my director. It was weird and very disconcerting. I do not like fish. I can kill rabbits and wring a chicken's neck without blinking, but seeing a person clean a fish makes me ill. Very ill.
  

  
   

• My host sister burning down the outhouse. Don't ask me how it happened. I was reading a book when it happened. All I know is that is wasn't intentional. When I think about it, I actually start laughing, until I realize that now I don't know where to go when the time comes to..er…go.
  

However, the main point is that through the good, bad, and weird stuff, I'm alive, doing ok, and still in one piece.