It’s a wonderful, happy world here in Sunny Naryn. For those of you who hadn’t heard the news, we had a little bit more revolutionary violence in southern Kyrgyzstan last week, and there was some fear that things could get really hairy. But the Kyrgyz people showed their true colors when they rallied together and kept everything cool. It’s just a wonderful time to be here.
On top of that, there is more cause for celebration. This past weekend, I had, for the first time in recent memory, a fresh green salad! We had skinned cucumbers, cabbage, and onion greens from the garden. Mix this together with pepper and mayonnaise, and it was like a little taste of forgotten magic.
The milk, folks, is getting cheap, too, as the cows now pasture in the nearby hills. That means yogurt, cream, and lots of fermented cow milk. Folks are even telling met the kymys, or fermented mare’s, milk will start flowing from the mountains soon!
With the weather truly warm, and the politics seemingly settled, it’s like sitting in the dawn of a bright new day. And with that in mind, I’ve paired up with another volunteer to help teach Naryn’s very own Future Bloggers of Tomorrow. Attracted by the exciting and dramatic success of KyrgyCarl.com (not really), these girls, part of the US Embassy’s gceKyrgyzstan.ning.com project, have gotten the blogging buzz. Their school’s are well equipped with American funded computers and Internet. They are sharing their culture, goals and dreams with the wonderful world that is the Internet. We all firmly believe, that with the right tutelage, they will be the best the world has to offer.
Back at the home front, I’ve finally gotten my compost heap up and running. It is sitting in an old wooden box in the back, but with the right mixture of green and brown matter, it is starting to heat up (Thanks Corey and Farmer Dan!). I convinced one neighbor kid to stick his hand in there and feel it, and now he believes I’m some kind of magician. Who knows, folks, I might even develop a following.
And speaking of home, after we dug up that stump out back, remember, my host dad said, “we’ll put a new room there, and tear down this old one!” I hadn’t believed him. But he’s proving me wrong. We’ve officially laid the foundation for the new room (which, when finished, will sport a big south-facing window), and are tearing down the old one.
As I emerged from my house this morning, I found the men already working, having made great headway tearing down the old room, that used to service as a mudroom. As a result of their efforts, our shoes were scattered all about the yard. As I looked around for mine, I came to a loss.
“Guys, have you seen my shoes around?” I asked, gazing at the man on the roof, and his nice black, leather boots.
“What did they look like?” they asked.
“Brown leather!” I replied.
“Oh, these?” It was the other guy, sitting on the steps. He was pointing to his feet.
They say, folks, that Kyrgyzstan has a collectivist culture. Sometimes, I believe them.
