Two Stops Past Siberia

What a wonderful time I have been having here in Kyrgyzstan. With every passing day, I am reminded that in the past, I have paid large sums of money to do the things that I am doing everyday here, but these days, someone else is footing the bill. I feel as if I am truly on the right path.

My life here is defined entirely by my language studies and my home-stay family. My hosts have two children living with them, Медер (Meder), the son, age 11, and Жылдыз (Jildiz), the daughter, age 12. How can I paint for you a picture of our relationship?

Yesterday, I came home from school, found no parents, but only these two kids, a quiet, shaky man my father’s age who is only described as “his friend,” a daughter-in-law and a son in law. The three of us little kids quickly digressed into play. We strung a bow and shot straw, pedaled around the neighborhood on their rickety bicycle, and by the end of the night, fell into an epic pillow-fight. They sat with me as I did flashcards, listening to music on my computer and taking pictures with my camera.

Then, they pointed to a car out the window and told me their folks were home. While I didn’t put this together at the time, they quickly switched from warrior ant to worker ant. In a fit of Bacchaen madness, they started to clean. Every book needed a pile, my flashcards, photos, camera; everything I had unpacked but wasn’t using all of the sudden desperately needed a place. Not in a frantic way, mind you, but in a happy, yet determined way. When Mom finally came in, she saw a room in disorder, but far less than minutes before.

Today, home life started with a large cardboard box of baby chickens. After we moved them to their new cage (and I was done taking pictures, (thanks Aunt Vicki!)) I followed them all into the little field behind the house to help plant potatoes. Digging the trench, planting them hand’s length apart, two at a time, I got a nasty sunburn on my forearms, but enjoyed it all. It reminded me of harvesting rice in India. I will be here 10 more weeks – does anyone know if I’ll be able to taste the harvest?

After that work, the son-in-law (who brought over the chicks) sat me down and cut my hair. I haven’t nearly the language to tell him my preference, so instead I just look like one of them (kind of.)

As I write this now, I am sitting in my room, Жылдыз on my left, watching my hands flutter on the keyboard, and Медер on my right, his head resting on my shoulder. I feel quite at home here with these people, despite only living with them for three days. Once I have the language to form even simple sentences, I hope we will grow even closer.

That’s all for now folks! Thank you so much for your wonderful responses! I will try to get back to everyone who wrote to me. In the meantime

Жакшы калыныз!

Originally Written April 4th, 2009