December 21, 2005
First off, thanks to Nicole telling my host mom that in America we respect horses, I no longer will be offered any horse meat. We explained that it is shameful, and that said it all. Once you bring shame into a situation, it’s finished.
And second, today my 9th form lesson actually caused a fist fight. Dad, you will have to tell my former Spanish teacher that the fly swatter game doesn’t work in Kyrgyzstan. I got the boys to take it outside which solved the problem, but it was pretty intense for a while in the classroom. I was hiding under a desk with the other girls, when the boys started throwing chairs.
Anyway, that behind me, life isn’t all that bad.
December 27, 2005
All right a long entry… rightfully so. (I have not had Internet access for weeks now, thus why I haven’t written any emails to anyone).
TOP TEN REASONS TO HAVE RESPECT FOR THE US POSTAL SYSTEM
10. Post offices actually open at the posted hours.
9. Packages are not wrapped in a paper sack and tied with twine and glue stick.
8. If you have mail, they give it you.
7. They have stamps available, you don’t have to come back next week.
6. They do not close at noon for a two-hour lunch/vodka break.
5. They don’t decide to not come back after lunch breaks.
4. It isn’t closed for school vacations and random Saturdays too.
3. When you have a package, it fits through the window; you don’t have to go around to the back of the building to receive it.
2. It isn’t a game to hide your mail from you. In fact, it’s illegal.
1. YOU DON’T HAVE TO BRIBE THE WORKER TO GET UP AND CHECK THE BACK ROOM FOR PACKAGES.
So I have had it with the post office. Twice in a week I have left in tears. Today, because Erich had informed me of a blue envelope from America with my name on it, waiting for me. I went in to the office during my free period, hoping to get a Christmas card from home (which will be my first Christmas card by the way that isn’t from my wonderful mother). The regular woman was not there, and these horrible ladies kept laughing at me and yelling that I had no packages and no letters, even though Erich saw the card with my name on it. I tried to explain that I had a blue envelope behind the window waiting for my pick up, but the women refused to look.
Last week I was just disappointed in mail all together, as since I have been in Talas I haven’t received any mail from anyone besides Mommy dearest.
So lets drop the mail subject for a while.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. I actually had a pretty great time here. First off, Erich and I had to spend Christmas Eve day at my school giving a test to English students, similar to the SAT. The students were in a classroom and took four different tasks, testing their English. Erich and I proctored, wrote and graded the test, while the rest of the volunteers in our oblast (12) headed to a nearby village for Christmas dinner. Apparently they had fried chicken and spaghetti and sang Christmas carols.
Our testing session took all day, and was quite a sight. Administrators were cheating for their students, the students actually ask each other questions and try to help each other during the test, and it is perfectly acceptable. We tried to stop the talking and have a fair test. The good part was that one of my students, Aziza, won for the 9th form. The test is graded on the spot and one winner is chosen from each form (grade).
Afterward, exhausted, Erich and I headed to my house for a Christmas celebration.
The night before Christmas Eve, I actually baked again. First we hit the bazaar, where I found amazing, delicious apples at a great price. I bought three kilos. We also were able to find some powdered vanilla, cinnamon, eggs, sugar, flour, oats, pickles (just because I love them) butter and milk. Nicole and I headed back to my house, where my plan was to tackle an apple pie.
Following the Peace Corps recipe, I tried to peel about 50 apples. Lets just say apple peeling is not one of my strong points. Maybe in two years I will be Meg Ryan in Sleepless in Seattle, but for now, I had a tough time. I sat on my little milking stool (that’s what we sit on for chairs) and tackled one apple, after about five seconds of watching this, Zamir (my host brother) grabbed a knife and showed me up. He peeled all of the apples before I finished my first one, and then took that one out of my hand and finished it for me. I was impressed. He helped me with the entire pie. We made crusts and of course I was having a heck of a time rolling the dough out into a 13-inch flat disk, so he showed me how to do that as well. We made cookies and brownies too, and the pie turned out great. Apparently I don’t qualify to be a Kyrgyz wife; pity the poor man who attempts to kidnap me; I don’t make a very good loaf of bread (which is something we make daily, even though I have stopped eating bread, which again is shameful, but hey, I am starting to hate it).
So everyone came over at about 5 pm on Saturday evening. We set up in my formal party room, which I know has had some good use, as I saw pictures of a former volunteer playing beer pong in it. Kathryn brought a cake, so we had plenty of food, and I made a hot sangria punch, (thinking of Alison the entire time and our nights at Sangria in Moscow). We had beer, vodka, sangria and about 20 bottles of champagne and wine. We played cards and scrabble and gave Christmas toast all night. It was a great Christmas with wonderful company.
Unfortunately, I started to get sick on Saturday, and by Sunday morning was without a voice and without energy (Contrary to what you might be thinking, it wasn’t from drinking, as I don’t drink more than a glass of wine or two here ever since the incident with the Tylenol pm in the training village). I have a splitter in my room that allows about six things to be plugged in at once, so everyone plugged cell phones in and one by one the Christmas calls started pouring in, with me answering all of them and delivering phones to the owners. I also got to open all my presents that I Elizabeth Dalessio actually saved for Christmas. What makes me happy? Anyone want to guess?? Yep, more clothes. Warm ones at that. Fleece jammies, two fleeces, a wool sweater, more long johns (pink!), perfume, a new toothbrush, a thermometer (almost 50 degrees today by the way Daddy), new slippers, conditioner, Godiva, my favorite huckleberry lotion, make up (which I was completely out of and desperately needed – well maybe not desperately, I am in Kyrgyzstan) and turtlenecks. January and February won’t be getting to me (the two coldest months of the year here). So thanks mom and dad, it made Christmas great (and I’ll send pictures of the lovely wool sweater soon).
My village is actually home to the only Frisbee golf course in Kyrgyzstan, (of course developed by volunteers) and Erich and Ian and Amy, Jesika and Kathryn headed up the hill to play nine holes on Christmas, as the weather has been great here. The rest of stayed behind in my room and watched Christmas movies. We watched Christmas with the Kranks for the Peace Corps reference, and wanted to point out that the girl in the movie was not a real volunteer, as you aren’t allowed to take vacations after only a month out of country. We were all shocked by her sudden trip back to the states. We also watched Miracle on 34th Street, my favorite Christmas movie of all time and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Everyone left in the afternoon and my darling brother heated up the banya for us, making Christmas even better. We both got banyas and I got to use my new lotions and wear my new pajamas. I talked to mom and dad and made it though my first Christmas ever away from home (ever).
I went to bed early on Sunday night and stayed home from school on Monday. I am now the warden while Nicole is in India on a three-week vacation, so I have two cell phones and am in charge in case of riots or emergencies…
Today I went back to school all though it is hard to teach because the students are busy preparing for the New Years holiday, in which the school gets decorated and a giant celebration takes place. In Kyrgyzstan people incorporate Christmas with New Years. So students dress up as Santa and decorate like you would for Christmas, including a New Years tree.
On Friday I head into Bishkek for New Years to meet Rebecca. I can’t wait. A night at the Hyatt and dancing and a little bit of shopping… and then an American buffet, that guess what… has a salad bar. It is going to be an amazing weekend. I hope it doesn’t snow through the pass and that we actually can get through the border!
OH WOW! Two very important things that I completely forgot to mention.
I had my first thought of fleeing this country. Last week I was teaching a lesson to the 9th form about clothing and body parts, when I giant freaking mouse ran across the floor right in front of me and went into a hole in the wall. Once again I ask you to happy and thankful that your office buildings are heated, have coffee pots, hot water, bathrooms, electricity and NO HOLES IN THE WALLS WHERE MICE COLONIES RUN RAMPID. I am deathly afraid of mice. Terrified. Horrified. Appalled. Sickened. Aghast. Shocked. Get the idea? I hate mice. Big small, whatever, I despise them and their disgusting tails. Anyway, I screamed, yelled ‘Oh My God’ and ran to the back of the classroom onto a desk occupied by two male students. I think I about cried. The students were shocked. I don’t think they have ever seen that kind of reaction to a mouse sighting before. When I told the other teachers, they laughed and said they are all over the school. Reassuring huh? I have class in that room tomorrow, but will be moving the students to my own classroom. (I go from classroom to classroom, as it assures that the students will actually come to class, if they have to walk to a different room for class, they won’t come).
And second I, the hair genius of the world, have found a way to use my electronic devices in Kyrgyzstan. My leatherman has been the best thing ever here. It has a file on it, so I filed down the plug in part of my curling iron and straightner cords and they now fit into a little converter that cost a quarter and plug into the wall perfectly. No adapter needed. I have beautiful hair again. I blow-dried my hair today and flipped it out and feel wonderful. Oh the things that make me happy, I know. But hey, that’s four months with no curling iron or straightner. Pretty impressive. (This is me we are talking about).
And also, I never thought my favorite meal would be macaroni noodles with ketchup? Who knew? I have to thank Nicole for the closest thing to a sandwich that I have had in months… bread with carrot salad, a little fake mayo, pickles and cheese. It works and if you try hard enough, its like having a veggie sandwich from Subway.
Anyway, Merry Christmas and happy New Year to all.
Jordan, what can I say, we all miss you and hope you get better. You lasted a lot longer than I would have in your situation and all of us are thinking about you.
Mom and Dad, thanks for making my first Christmas away wonderful. I miss you both tons and tons.
KINSIE LIPP!!!! Happy Anniversary!!!!! The first year is the toughest… now you can survive anything. Congratulations, I hope I can find someone like Mikey to make me as happy as you are. I love you.
December 29- January 3
Five Things to be Thankful for when traveling this holiday season:
5. That in order to get to the nearest big city, you don’t have to leave the country and then come back in.
4. Cars with heat, hell, cars with seatbelts…
3. That you don’t have a stamp on your forehead that says ‘Rich American’ like I do.
2. In order to cross the border, you don’t have to give the guard your phone number
1. When you stop at a rest area you don’t have to pay to use a whole in the ground and then extra for toilet paper, hoping that the marchrutka doesn’t leave without you.
Well, I made it to Bishkek. I made it to the Hyatt. I survived.
Barely.
On Friday morning Zamir and I walked to the bus station (about a 30-minute walk) from my house after a big fight over me having a third cup of tea. (There is an unspoken rule about always having at least three cups of tea at a meal). He carried my bag, which to my own surprise was pretty small for what I usually travel with. Amy was waiting for me at the bus station, all ready in a taxi. She assured me that the driver was taking us through Kazakhstan, not through the mountain pass, (which I am deathly afraid of), so I hopped in. After an hour the driver was finally ready to go, and I noticed right off the bat that we were not headed toward Bishkek. Instead he took us up some mountain and messed around with a horse and a bunch of people in a small village for another hour. At this point Amy decided to just forgo the trip entirely, but I couldn’t.
We got back to my village, where we had started from and I jumped in a marchrutka headed for Bishkek, through Kazakhstan, exactly what I needed. It was cheap too. I talked to the driver before getting in the van, and he assured me that we were headed to Taraz, a city in Kazakhstan, and the only border in which Americans are allowed to cross. I settled in nicely and listened to my Ipod until I noticed we were slowing down at an unfamiliar place. It looked like a border crossing, but not one that I had ever been to. Immediately in a panic, I got my passport out and waited for the guard to come on board. The first crossing is the Kyrgyz customs crossing, which I had no problem getting through. Next we moved on to the Kazakhstan crossing. A man came on the marchrutka and began checking passports. When he got to me, he looked at my passport, looked at me and shook his head. He finished checking all the other passports then picked up my bag and plucked me from the marchrutka, sending it on its way, without me. (Keep in mind that I did not get my money back for the prepaid trip to Bishkek).
I knew I was in for a long day.
He took me inside the station and because I was a little teary-eyed, he lightened up a bit, introduced me to other officers, and brought me tea. There were four in all and they kept me pretty entertained while I waited for a bus to arrive and take me to the correct border crossing. They tried to teach me the Kazak language and referred to one another as King Kong. After about four hours a bus showed up. They escorted me onto the bus which seriously had at least 100 people crammed on it. I had to sit on the steps, where the automatic door opens. Because we had become such good friends, the border patrol warned each and every person on that bus to stay away from me, respect me and not to even think about stealing from me. The driver had instructions on where to take me, and he did so, but it was the absolute worst bus ride I have ever been on. Ever. It stopped every 25 feet and let people off and each person seriously had about 100 pounds of oil, bread and fireworks for New Years. When I finally reached the border, I was able to cross fairly easily, after an interview with the main guard on the Kazak side. He was friendly though, and helped me into a taxi, which was supposed to take me to the bus station in Taraz. Instead, he took me to the bazaar. From there I had to find another taxi to the bus station. This man was not friendly, and the doors only opened from the outside. I tried to pay him in som, but because I was no longer in Kyrgyzstan, he only wanted Tinge. (Kazak money). Which I don’t have. I begged him to let me out of the car, but he refused, wanting more som than I was giving him. It was only a five-minute ride, so it shouldn’t have cost much at all. I got out my cell phone and tried to call for help, but Kyrgyz cell phones don’t work over there. Finally, after banging on the window, a man opened my door from outside. I ran from the crazy taxi man and tried to find a marchrutka headed to Bishkek, but because it was all ready 4:00 p.m., (Mind you I left at 9 am and was technically only an hour from my village) no marchrutkas were going to Bishkek. I found the taxi section, but the man started taunting me after I turned down their offers to drive me for 3 thousand som. I walked in circles trying to find a way, but ended up back at the taxis. One man asked me if I was going to walk to Bishkek. It was a wonderful experience. By this time I was in tears, cold and tired and had no choice but to pay the man and go. Of course though, he wanted Tinge. So I had to first go to the ATM and withdraw American money and then exchange it at a bank.
Four and a half hours later the taxi arrived at a huge neon sign that said Customs. It looked like the entrance to Disneyland. I knew once again that I was at an unfamiliar border crossing. Of course my lying piece of crap taxi driver dropped me off and left, with pretty much every cent I had. Another girl had ridden in the taxi with me, and she and I went across the border together. Of course she turned out to be conniving as well, as when the desk took a long time to process my passport, she told me to pay them! Like hell I was going to pay the Customs guy to let me across the border! I told her to get lost, but she kept following me. From the border I grabbed a taxi, got a hold of Xouhoa and Rebecca, who had been in Bishkek waiting for me since noon, and took the last leg to Bishkek. The taxi dropped the girl and I off downtown, which was decorated with Christmas decorations, and was crowded and in good spirits. It reminded me off home, seeing so many people all getting ready to celebrate a holiday. Anyway, the girl booked it from the taxi, and I was raging by this point. I threw money to the driver, got out of the car, spotted her, and then heard familiar voices. It was Scott and Leslie, a married couple, both lawyers from Colorado, also volunteers who live in Bishkek. I ran to them, in tears, and Leslie chased the girl down with me and demanded money. I got it. And then to top it all off, a big fat rat ran across the sidewalk. It was 11:00 p.m.
And that was my trip to Bishkek.
Rebecca, Xouhoa, Charlie, Anne, Phil and Katie were all inside the café waiting. It was a wonderful reunion. We all headed out on the town, hitting a local hookah bar first. Rebecca and I wanted to go the hotel and get some sleep, as it was after 1 am, so we took a taxi to the Kyrgyz Alton, a small adequate hotel. But, of course we were taken to the wrong place. The sign said Kyrgyz Alton, but it was an apartment building, not a hotel, which we found out after accosting the bellman for a half hour. We took another taxi to the correct hotel and checked into a single room. We found a rollaway bed in the hallway and crashed, (Communal bathrooms by the way). In the morning we headed out on the town.
We had pancakes at a café and then trekked to the Hyatt, hoping for early check in. We stopped along the way at an ATM, at a department store to pick up speakers for my computer, and then ran into an older military couple on the street. They told us the base was having a big concert for New Years, part of the USO Tour. A country concert… Well, everyone knows me and country music…but the man couldn’t remember the name. I did some investigating, it turned out to be Carrie Underwood, from American Idol. I was jealous.
Anyway, we got to the Hyatt at 11 and were able to check in. We were sent straight up to the top floor as we were staying in the Regency Level. We were immediately given a fruit basket and taken by a bellboy to our suite. He gave us a tour of our room, explaining how everything worked, (Internet connection, heated towel rack, etc.) There was a tray of Christmas cookies and lots of oranges for us, along with robes and slippers. We booked massages right away, and relaxed in the room before heading down to the gym. The massage was incredible. Hot stones, for more than an hour. Amazing and so worth it. Afterward we headed to high tea for all the ice tea and American food we wanted. It was also amazing. I have never been so happy to see ravioli with real spaghetti sauce and I think Xouhoa felt the same way with cappuccinos. We headed back to the room, relaxed longer and then headed to cocktail hour at our private lounge. Because we were the only guests staying on that floor, we were treated amazingly. We drank so much Kahluha, it was wonderful. I was the bartender, which was fun, and we had more hoer'doerves, watching fireworks from around the city, (fireworks here are abundant, it was like the fourth of July). Afterward we took turns taking baths in our amazing Jacuzzi tub and then rang in the New Year at our balcony with pizza and French fries, delivered from the hotel kitchen.
We caught word that all phone calls with Bitel cell phones would be free for one week, so we tried calling everyone we could. But so did everyone else in Kyrgyzstan, so now the system is entirely shut down.
In the morning we headed down to the sauna and whirlpool and say for a couple of hours, trying to figure out a way to put off checking out and heading back to our villages. We all showered (probably for the fourth time in two days (or more like the fourth time in months)) and then we drug our feet down to the checkout, where we were given more oranges. Oh yeah, first we go to watch the ball drop in New York though, which was fun.
We hit the New Years’ Brunch, which we all agreed was the best part of the trip. It has cereal, an omelet bar, a salad bar, an ice cream bar, a spaghetti station, chicken, duck, lamb chops, fruit, basically everything possible. We were mesmerized. We had mimosas and fish and absolutely no potatoes. We also met a couple of Americans who promised to bring us goodies from home, as they were going on vacation and then coming back to Kyrgyzstan. (Ask me for more info).
We got a late start on traveling, but I was able to find a marchrutka back to Talas. It wasn’t heated and it wasn’t fast, and the blizzard didn’t help. But I made it through the border, knew better when the man didn’t turn to take me to the correct border, had him stop, got a taxi back to the only border I could cross, and made it home safely at midnight, only to be locked out of the house. It took snowballs at the window to get Zamir to let me in. Thank god I have a good arm, because I had to through them up to the second story, over the massive compound-like fence that we have, and in the cold blizzard.
Quite a trip.
Oh yeah, and on that one bus in Kazakhstan, my pink American hat with matching gloves was stolen, along with a mini flashlight/lighter combo from my pocket. Very, very sad.
But I’m back, and taught classes today, and vacation starts on Friday, for one week. Hopefully cell phones will start working soon, but who knows.
Oh yeah, also, in Bishkek I was able to buy DVDS. I got Narnia, Harry Potter 4, the Dukes of Hazzard, Just Like Heaven and Fever Pitch. For less then $3. Pretty sweet deal.
Too bad I watched them all already. I loved Just Like Heaven, but really is there any Reese Witherspoon movie that I don’t like?
Oh this is great, one of my students gave me this card for New Years:
Happy New year Elizabet!
Dear Elizabet
I wish you Good Luck for Cristmas happy new year!
You are so good, so pretty, so kinds, so nice, so best, cool friends.
I want to wish you many good friends for you, But I’ll wish you very main friends.
My present/gift and Santa Claus!!!
I kiss, to hug you
I love you Elizabet
Iaza
It was written on the back of a framed picture of a waterfall. My students are really great.
January 3-7, 2006
Well it was an easy week at school, that’s for sure. Hardly any students showed up and on Thursday I spent the entire day just filling out journals for each of my eleven classes. Journals are similar to grade books, except students receive grades 1-5. A five is the best and a four is above average and a three is average. I am not allowed to give anything below a three. I have a hard time tackling the journals because I cannot read Kyrgyz cursive writing, and even if I could it only says the students last name. I know the students by first names. (This is because the average last name here is something like Kurmanakunov). So, when asked to fill the journals out, I couldn’t figure out which student was which. This is where having a ‘counterpart’ comes in, as they are supposed to translate and help you as needed. No sign of one at Lenin School. Turns out I didn’t need to know my students’ last names anyway, because the teachers insisted that they change all my grades. I was not allowed to issue a single grade based on my own observations and assignments. Not even going to get started on corruption.
So the phones are still off in the country, so I haven’t been able to communicate with anyone for more than a week now. I guess I am in the Peace Corps though, so maybe I shouldn’t rely on a cell phone so much…
I was feeling down one afternoon this week after another uneventful trip to the Post Office. Still no packages. I don’t have any paper. I write letters daily and I have no paper. I know there is some in one of the packages headed here, and I am trying to patiently wait, but writing on graph paper is not fun… (wait til’ people start getting my graph paper letters). Anyway, Zamir (host brother) went out to buy some more ketchup and noodles for me and came back with an American DVD. I don’t know where he got it, but it had five movies on it, and they were all in English. Since I had watched the four movies I bought in Bishkek all ready, (okay the Reese Witherspoon one like 100 times) it was great. I got Shark Tale, Ladder 49, Forgotten, Mr. 3000 and Sky Captain oh yeah and Spiderman 2. I can’t bring myself to watch Ladder 49 though. Too sad.
Also no Internet in weeks. You can probably tell by the length of this blog entry. Oh, I just found out the 10th is another one of those big holidays where you have to go to at least seven different houses for a meal and tea or you are shamed. Not looking forward to it. It takes me about two days to recover from these things. So much tea in the system I have to fast and drink about 2 gallons of water to get back to normal. Not that I mind giving up potatoes and ketchup for a day or two…
Could someone please send me some magazines? Girls I know you all buy the new Cosmos and Glamours every month… send me your old copies please… I’m begging you… I need my fix… Its bad enough I have to miss TWO years of All My Children. I need to know the Glamour Do’s and Don’ts! (Even though everything’s a do over here, believe me).
So I’m on vacation for 2 weeks, in a village with no Internet and no Nichole (she’s in India for three weeks). What am I going to do? It’s too cold to be outside and I’ve read so much that I am starting to feel guilty about it. I mean today I read Great Expectations in one sitting… What have I become?
Damn no power again… Thanks for reading.
