The Goodbyes Part 1: Karabulak and Taldykorgan

No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth.
- Robert Southey

Over the last 27 months, I've met some really awesome people in Kazakhstan, and I am doubly lucky because not only do I know them, I call them my friends. They picked me up when I was down and showed me how to live and survive in a foreign place. We spoke different languages, had different cultures, but still found a lot to laugh and communicate about. We made great community projects, talked about some serious stuff, then laughed at each other for hours. And now with a week and 5 days until I leave, seeing my friends one more time to say goodbye and thank you is one of the most important things right now to me.

The first part of my goodbyes took me back to the friendly confines of Taldykorgan and Karabulak. Although volunteers cannot travel during the last 90 days of their service, they can go on business trips, and although I had a great time hanging out and drinking chai with my Karabulak friends and beer with my Taldykorgan pals, there was work to be had.

My goal in Karabulak was to give my old director the final report for our grant to establish Kazakh Courses. We reviewed the report together and made some corrections. She also gave me letters that were written by some of the adults who attended, as well as the teacher. Once I translate them, I'll include them in the thank you packet I created with my director to the people who donated to the project. This means that I'll make a final trip to the most stressful place in Kazakhstan, the post office, but it is the best way to convey the gratitude and thanks that the people and my director in Karabulak have.

After that, I saw my host mother one more time (she apologizes to my mother because I am so thin) and my host sister (she told me to "stay cool"). Even the woman on the 3^rd floor of the Akimat who hit on me constantly until I changed towns even came down to the 2^nd floor to say goodbye, but not without being awkward one last time by telling me it was a shame I never agreed to go on a date with her while her boyfriend was standing next to her. Everyone thought this was funny. The boyfriend did not. I just felt awkward. And on that note, I hopped into a taxi and left Karabulak for Almaty.

To get to Almaty from Karabulak, one must find a taxi in Taldykorgan. Because I had some time to kill, I took a long walk around town for the last time to reminisce in my own head about the good and bad (but mainly good) memories that happened there. I started by the (in)famous club Luxor, now renamed, renovated into a café, and not as shady, although I will never ever go inside again. From there I walked past "the apartment"; the place where almost every male Kaz-19 volunteer in Taldykorgan lived at one time or another. There used to be a cat that lived under the door (the local kids called it "garbage"), but it's not there anymore. From there, I went past the Oblast Akimat, past Hessen Pub, turned left at Shashlyk Place and strolled down the Arbot. By then, it was time to go.

(Photo Captions:1^st: Kazakh Courses in Action. Currently 44 adults and 8 youth attend the classes.

2^nd: Counterparts, friends, and my babushka in Karabulak. They'll always have a place in my heart, even though they loved to laugh at the awkward things that would happen to me.)

Unfinished Work

in the hills and mountains overlooking Almaty on a hazy day

After doing some hiking in the hills and mountains above Almaty, I took a quick trip to Karabulak. My reason: to check up on our grant project and grab documents to start the final report. My grant project involved starting Kazakh classes for adults in Karabulak, a large village and my old site. You can read about the details about the project here.

When I got transferred to Issyk last year, I had a talk with my old director and Peace Corps about continuing the project. Because I was leaving Karabulak, I was given a choice: either scrap the project, or continue on remotely. I decided to do the latter, mainly because I knew how excited the community was about this project. Although I wouldn’t be able to come to Karabulak as much as I’d like (I originally planned on visiting once a month, but things got in the way), we had so many community partners like the local government, schools, teachers, and interested people that I was confident that it would still be successful without me being around every day. When we received the funds in early December, we went to Karabulak and bought the materials to build tables, chairs, a whiteboard, and the books. I haven’t been back since.

Going back to Karabulak wasn’t as weird as the first time. It was as if I never left. My host mother still scolded me in rapid fire Russian about how I need to eat more. My old director still told everyone about how I thought I almost blew up my host families house. The young woman on the third floor of the Akimat (government building) building still hit on me, and I still shot her down like I did during the 10 months I worked there. And everyone thought this awkward exchange was just as funny as the first time it happened.

Some things never change.

But what did change was the project. For the first time, I got a chance to see everything first hand. In the basement of the Akimat, a huge room was converted into a classroom. I saw all of the chairs and tables we bought in December. In addition to the Kazakh/Russian textbooks we bought, I saw 9 Kazakh/Russian Dictionaries. I asked my director where they came from, and she said that they were donated. My director and I then went to lunch with my host mother, and while we ate she told more about our project.

She said that after I left in December, they built the tables, found a teacher, and organized everything. In the first group, 30 adults came, but 7 dropped out because there was “no homework”. They finished the basic course, and then the community decided that the courses be opened for youth in the summer. Currently 10 kids are taking Kazakh courses. Since I left, Karabulak has had 3 different Akims (mayors), and each endorsed the project. Furthermore, the current Akim said that as long as the courses are going and that there is interest in the community, that the utilities and rent will be free, and they will continue to pay the salary of the teacher indefinitely.

It also seems that the community has plans to expand the courses. Karabulak has a sizable portion of emigrated Kazakhs from China. Although it is way complicated, the short story about them is that they left for the western portions of China when the Soviets came into Kazakhstan. Because they left so long ago, they did not learn Russian. Many do not speak Chinese, although some families have lived there for over 50 years. They only speak Kazakh. And although Kazakh is an official language, enough people in Karabulak (and nearby Taldykorgan) speak Russian, so that knowing some Russian is very helpful. Therefore, people in the town are looking at starting a Kazakh - Russian course, where people who only know Kazakh can learn some Russian. This has been pushed especially by the director of the local hospital (where I went the first time I was hospitalized), who says that his doctors, who are mostly Russian and Korean, are having a hard time properly treating people. It’d be easier, he said if his patients knew some Russian, in addition to the Kazakh that his staff knows.

But overall, everyone is very happy and proud of the project, and it looks like it is going to continue in the future. I had a fun time running around Karabulak talking to the stakeholders and getting their accounts of how the project progressed as well as collecting receipts for their purchases chairs and books. With their stories, and what I have saw, writing the final report will be an easy process, one that I hope to complete by the end of September.

The thing that makes me the happiest is that the people who donated to the project were not forgotten. “Do you know who they are? Do you have their information? We’d like to thank them!” I was told on several occasions. While I do not know all of the people who gave to the project, they said that when I come back for the final time, they will have something for me to give to the people that I know who donated, either personally or through the official donor list that Peace Corps provided me earlier during the summer.

What they are planning to do, I do not know, and they wouldn’t tell me. But the main message from the people of Karabulak to everyone who made this project possible, named or unnamed is a hearty thank you. And also a thank you from me.

I had pictures, but my USB on my camera is corrupted, and need to get another. My old director said that she will send them to me. When I get them, I’ll post them.

When I fought Satan

I love dogs. They are nice and cuddly, loyal friends and I never get tired of watching dogs chase things. However, since I've arrived in Kazakhstan, I've had the problem of dogs trying to eat me for lunch. Many volunteers in Kazakhstan at one point or another has some sort of alteration with a snarling angry dog. After comparing notes with friends, I believe that I have more dog problems than the average volunteer. This is something that I don't understand. I love dogs (and cats too), but I've never had problems with dogs until now.

The first couple of months were the worst. Dogs would chase me down the street, bark at me for no reason, or start snarling even before I was in their line of sight. Because of my problems, I started carrying a "doggie rock": a rock that fit in my palm well, but dense enough to cause some damage if it hit a maruading canine (Yes, this was my exact thought when I found this rock).

My doggie rock actually saved my life. On my first night in Karabulak, I slammed the rock on a dog's head. It’s not like I did this for fun. It tried to sneak attack me while I was doing my business in an outhouse. It lived, but I think I gave it brain damage because it didn't walk in a straight line after that and was a bit crosseyed. My host was really puzzled about the dog's actions, but just chalked it up to someone else throwing a rock at the dog. I never told her it was me.

When it comes to pitching rocks, I don’t have an arm like Randy Johnson, but I’m getting more accurate. And just to be clear, I don’t like throwing rocks at dogs. But I don't want to become lunch.

Aurora and Capt. Jack with my brother and I. These puppies are so cute, and actual proof that I love dogs! Perhaps when they are older I'll throw marshmellows at them, but never rocks. But on the other hand they wouldn't try to eat my soul.

After training, my relationship with canines in Kazakhstan got slightly better. My host family in Karabulak had a dog called “Omega”. I taught him how to play fetch, and he was really well behaved, although he would steal my shoes and bury them behind the banya.

However, Omega was a rebel, and he eventually ran away to join the “dog fleet”: a mass of 20 wildish (or unchained dogs) that would go rampaging around the town at dusk eating chickens, other dogs, and anything else they could find. I saw Omega one day a couple months later, eating garbage. Although we had a good rapport when he was at my host families house, I steered clear of him after that.

When I moved to Esik, I decided to take another strategy regarding dogs. For the first time, I was going to be nicer to them and not go flinging rocks every time one of them looked at me like I could be lunch. Esik doesn’t have a dog fleet, although there are 3-4 dogs that hang around my apartment. While they don’t belong to anyone, they have never barked at me or gave me any trouble, although I wouldn’t pet them. I did throw chicken scraps at them every once in awhile, to keep to the peace. The arrangement worked quite well.

Then Satan showed up.

Satan is a small black mutt with Death Star laser beams for eyes, a permanent scowl of a mouth, and can probably consume your soul faster than I can eat a fun pack of jellybeans. On a Friday I came home to find Satan camped out in front of my apartment door, snarling at me. I brandished my "doggie rock", and he backed off enough that I could sneak inside my door. Satan growled at my door for about another half an hour. The good news: I was safe. The bad news? I was under siege by an evil soul gnawer. It paced outside of my door for awhile, and eventually lay down on my doormat. With a good steel door between me and doom, I didn’t think much of the dog until the next day, when I opened my food cabinet and realized that with the exception of two eggs, the Ramen package was the last of my food.

Satan. I took this picture by opening the door a crack and blindly snapping a photo while praying that Satan wouldn't wedge open the door, fly inside, and feast on my soul. I also took this picture so that if Satan ate me, people would know the truth.

This particular week, I worked more than 50 hours at the Local Community Foundation creating their first annual report, so I didn’t have any time to go shopping. I was planning on doing this on Saturday. I made a dinner of Ramen noodles (my last package), and went to bed. When I woke up the next day, Satan was still there. And still very angry.

For the next 20 hours, Satan laid siege to my door. I couldn’t leave. Every time I opened the door, Satan was there, baring teeth. I wanted to go to the store, but with a snarling dog at my doorstep, I really couldn't go anywhere. I ran out of food at lunch. Satan stayed.

Closer to dinner time, I heard my neighbors. They were returning home. Then there was some growling, a couple of swear words in Russian, and when I looked out again, Satan was gone. After over 20 hours of being locked in my apartment I was saved.

First Day and Last Day

September 1 is the first day of school in Kazakhstan. My host sister, whom now in the 10th form, complained bitterly about this day because the end of school means the end of sleeping in, tv until 2am, and hanging out with friends all day. Although students go to school, the first day is more of a holiday. Every school has a sort of presentation/talent show, and everyone in the family and close friends (if they are not in school themselves) are invited to attend. Because I am not a teacher and I didn’t want to embarrass my host sister, I didn’t go to the ceremony. However, according to my host sister, it’s pretty boring.

She has 5 classes on September 2: Kazakh language, Biology, and 3 types of history (World, Kazakh, and some other type we couldn’t figure out). “A total nightmare,” she said. Then she told me about a guy named Arman and how nice he is, and how she hopes he would call her.

Why does my left eye twitch when I think of high school and dating?

September 1 was also a big day for me because it was my last official day at work. I’ve been approved for a “site change”. This is Peace Corps speak for “moving to a different location”. This means that I will no longer be working and living in Karabulak.

This whole situation makes me feel bad because I like Karabulak a lot. The people in Karabulak are great and the town is in a perfect location (30km from Taldykorgan) which gives it a combination of rural and urban life. I enjoyed dipping my feet in both worlds. I’ve had days where I lit a петчка, planted potatoes and drew water from a well in the morning, and then in the afternoon I went to the mall in Taldykorgan. The weather isn’t too cold or hot and Karabulak is small enough that it’s easy to get to know people, but large enough that not everyone knows your name or your business. Although I probably sound like a college recruiter, my point is that I like Karabulak and I don’t regret a day that I was there.

The only reason why I’m left was because there was not enough work for an OCAP volunteer in Karabulak. Or any work at all. The CLC has been assimilated all but in name into the local government. They type their documents and make their photocopies. The director, (although I love her to death; she is an inspirational person) is never there because she is working on other things that I cannot assist with such as tax reports or trying to get the proper documents for a new building. These things are beyond my scope or abilities, and while I tried to do other projects involving my organization, there was simply nobody around to work with. So while Karabulak was amazing for sharing culture and promoting understanding about America to Kazakhstan and vice versa, it was not the right place for me. I didn’t leave my family, friends and my life in America to do copies and sit alone in a room for hours on end playing Harvest Moon on my computer. I don’t expect for my service to drastically change an NGO, save Kazakhstan, change the world or do anything huge. However, I expect to do something.

As a result, I have been sent to Ecik. Again. It’s kind of funny, because after one year I’m right back where I started. Because it was the training town for my group, Ecik was the very last place that I expected that I’d live again on Earth. However, there will be plenty of work. If I become bored here, it will be my fault because there is a lot to do and get involved with.

I’ll be working for an NGO called the Local Community Fund. They receive money from big donors and then re-give this money to local starting NGO’s and community organizations. For them I will be translating documents, assisting with writing grants in both Russian and English, and helping to create grants guidelines, RFP’s, and other grant related stuff.
There are also a lot of other things to get involved in Ecik such as a Youth Bank (which so far sounds eerily like the State Farm Youth Advisory Board), English clubs and helping out at a local University. This doesn’t count the volunteers that are close by whom I hope to work together with (or at least see on a weekend or two).

At the very least, I will be collaborating with interested people to *attempt* to assist a particular community. And that’s way better reason for living in Kazakhstan than playing Harvest Moon.

The "Great" Site Announcement

Site announcement was today, and depending on who you ask in the Kaz 20 OCAP group, it was either the greatest day since arriving in the country, or just another day. I tend to fall in the middle of the two opinions.


What happened was this: We were all placed down in a room, with inspirational quotes on the walls and all of the PC Kazakhstan staff present. A couple of people did some speeches, and then they uncovered a huge map of Kazakhstan with yurts over the areas where we would go (yurts are Kazakh traditional houses). Our task was to go to the map, and find the yurt that had a piece of paper with our name on it and the organization we'd be working for.


It felt like we were in the NBA draft. Melanie had the first "pick" (the sites are already predetermined) and ended up in Aktobe, a city way to the west in Kazakhstan. She'll have a really long train ride to get there, but said she was way excited because she will be working with women, and that's what she really wanted to do. I think that she's going to do some awesome work there.


Others went, and some screamed in joy, laughed, jumped up and down, and were generally happy with where they were placed. I was happy for them. Soon it came my turn.


I found I was placed in a town called Karabulak, which is north of Almaty by a couple of hours, and really close to city called Taldykorgon.

Here is a map of Karabulak. It seems that I will be really close to China.

When I found out where I would work, I really wasn't disappointed or happy. The "Where" part of the "Great Site Announcement" didn't excite me. I didn't care if I was sent to the North, South, or West. There are seasons in Kazakhstan. No matter how cold (or how hot) the weather will change. Even the coldest areas in North Kazakhstan get to about 65-70 degrees in the summer, and it can dip below freezing in the south during winter. However, the job does not change, and to get stuck in a bad job on the other side of the world would be my personal version of Hell.


Next they passed out folders with information about the NGO we'd be working for. For some people, there was a lot of info, for others, there was nothing because their NGO's are so new or they did not have a volunteer before.


As for my sheet: I did not find it initially useful. It said who I was working for, my counterpart, and information on Karabulak, but upon closer examination, I couldn't get a sense of what the NGO specializes in. This lead me to the conclusion that there will be a lot of different types of work to do. It also seems like there will be the potential for me to do a lot of fundraising activities. This makes me really happy and relieved, because I feel that the choice I made in turning down grant writing internships in Chicago to do the Peace Corps has now been validated.


However, I still refuse to be excited, because I do not feel that I know enough to be excited. I do not know my counterpart and have not seen the organization. This will come later when I visit Karabulak in the coming weeks. Basically there is a lot that I do not know, and today only helped minimally in changing that.


So all in all, the "Great Site Announcement" in my opinion was like the most recent NBA draft: an anti-climatic feel-good event that is over hyped and tends to leave people with more questions than answers. However, there is some relief that comes in finding out things that make the future a little less murky.