Oh My Dear Friends, Family and Beautiful Confidants,

We began our journey just less than one week ago, on Thursday, in Philadelphia. I have had a moment to rival all, and I’d like to share that with everyone. We began with a speech by the coordinator, in which he said, “for you all, this will be the first opportunity to talk about your decision to join the Peace Corps without having to defend yourselves from judgment.” While many of the other volunteers nodded in agreement, I was only confused. From everyone I have told of my decision, I have only received thanks and support. It seems, you all are a bastion of excitement and open-mindedness in an otherwise judgmental world. I feel so fortunate that you are my friends. So, first off, thank you all.

The next morning, after only a few fitful hours of sleep we, my 60 new best friends and I took a pair of buses to JFK airport, boarded a 9 hour plane to Istanbul, and readied ourselves for a layover just long enough to take either a much needed nap, or a quick traveler’s vision quest through the metropolis on the Bosphorus. Needless to say, I chose the latter. With an excellent tip from my airplane seat-mate, I saw 2 mosques, 1 palace and the city’s 12th century cisterns. All as magnificent as they claim to be, the mosques were beautiful, the cistern was incredible, and the palace told the story of a kingdom long past.

From Istanbul, we caught a 5 hour flight to Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan, arrived at 2 in the morning, and checked into our hotel rooms by 4. Up at 9 for breakfast, my entire sleep time, from Thursday morning to Monday night was 8.5 hours. Since then, we’ve been living in the luxurious Hotel Issyk-Kul, a testament to Soviet Might. The building is as swanky as anyone in the 1970’s could have dreamed. Foot washing basins, bath tubs and balconies define every room, and dark wood paneling lines the halls. The whole 8 floor, multi-wing complex is yet strangely empty.

While the outside still looks block-ish and soviet, the backside boasts of a gigantic outdoor museum, built as a surreal testament to the Battle of Manas. Complete with strange spires, MC Escher Stairways, and a field of garden gnomes/children in various states of dismemberment, it was a true sight to behold. Last night we moseyed on over, sat in the warm air, played frisbee and guitar, took pictures, hooted, hollered, and were promptly kicked out.

Aside from these visual oddities, training has been fairly straight-forward: language, cultural adjustment, introduction to the food, etc. Bread is sacred here, you can’t walk on kitchen tables, and the food, so far, has been fabulous. Thick, sweet oatmeal, thin, unsweetened yogurt, bread pockets with meat, lots of tea, salads, soups, and a whole variety of juices. Everyone here knows the hotel is spoiling us with food, but it is turning to be a delightful introduction to Kyrgyzstan.

I meet my home stay family later today, and then the real fun begins.Wish me luck folks! This pampering won’t last long. By next week, I’ll have almost entered the wild.

Originally Written April 1st, 2009

Guess what time it is? You got it! Your favorite traveler is off again! Off for an adventure as grand and surprising and wonderful as any I’ve yet written. But first, a slight introduction, a greeting, a rock-solid, super-sensitive, treasure-trove of recapitulated robbery of memories once written. Some of you are new to my nonsense, from high school or college, from Chicago, employers, co-workers, chance encounters at the restaurant and bars! Moments of glimpses of glories once told, nearly forgotten. Thank you, all you fine folks, who’ve asked to be on the travel list. Lord only knows what you’ll be getting yourselves into, but God willing, it will be a good time.

Carl Beien, your friend, is embarking on the Peace Corps, the Kennedian brain-child of American ambassadorship and development. I will be living in the mountain state of Kyrgyzstan for the next 27 months. They’ve told me that once there, I will learn the language, live with families, and try to help the people develop in their own, sustainable way. They’ll train me to appreciate their culture, and try to figure them out before I go sticking my Big American Nose into their business. So yes, that’s the story! 27 months gone from this country which I love! But fear not, in my darkest moments of sadness, I will have your responses to kindle my spirits, and if worst comes to worst, I have a signed letter from President George W. Bush, thanking me for my service.

Now folks, who could forget? My adventures lurking around the Olympic construction site in Beijing! The Famished Four, PBR Water, and trading cigarettes for turquoise in Lhasa? Oh, and there was the time in Guatemala, when my naive charity nearly ended my days. For those of you who’ve been here since the beginning, when, 5 years ago, in the prime of my dreadlocks, I embarked for 3 1/2 months in S.E. Asia, this trip must seem like its all coming full circle. I’m not a tourist anymore – I’m a traveler. I’m leaving this country to live, and learn, not just to see.

So here we go folks! Please read my letters, embrace them, like a field of radiant sunshine. My humble goal, in the words of Dr. King, is to, “heal the jangling discord of our” world. Friends, I will try, and with your support, maybe at least in a small way, we’ll succeed.

Originally Written March 25th, 2009