Two Stops Past Siberia

Kyrgy Carl here, writing from my snowy home in Sunny Naryn!

 

In response to many questions I’ve received lately about Kyrgyzstan and Christmas: No, people don’t celebrate it here. Yes, they know what it is, but No, not really. Let me explain.

 

See, one of those weird little quirks in globalization is that every hears about Christmas the way it appears in the media, most often as “Merry Christmas.” So, folks are familiar with this term, in English, but will often not know exactly what it means. This, then, led to one of my favorite encounters this year, when one of my host sisters woke me up one morning after Christmas and asked me so simply, “Sizdin Merry Christmas kandai boldu?” Or, literally, “How was your Merry Christmas?” Needless to say, I let her know that it was very merry.

 

(Other quirks have included one volunteer meeting a local who shook his hand and just said, “Santa Claus!”)

 

So, while for most Kyrgyz people December 25th was just another day, for the volunteer community, it was one of good food and good cheer. This year, we started cooking early, and gathered at one of the volunteer apartments and ate in grand fashion. We had squash and potatoes, veggies and spaetzle, and even two chicken dishes, one generously prepared by my host mom, who only wanted to ensure we had a good time. In fact, the meal was so good, and there were so many leftovers, that on the 26th my friends and I just layed around the house munching, and didn’t even bother to go outside. How’s that for doing it right, American style?

 

In the mean time, folks, Naryn city is gearing up for the real holiday of the realm: New Years. This perfectly secular holiday was a Soviet favorite, and continues to be right up to this day. The bazaars are loaded with beautiful cakes and firecrackers, plus all the fixings we normally associate with Christmas, like little plastic fir trees and sparkly garland.

 

The place is merry and cold, folks, much like much of America. For those of you in the cold weather (especially that snowy northeast) best of luck with the weather, and for anyone down south, keep dreaming of that white Christmas.

 

Now, stay tuned: New Years means high holiday, and I’ll be writing again, with every tantalizing detail.

 

P.S. For those of you wondering about last weeks Speed Bump of Snow: the day of my building it, as it turns out, coincided with a party my host dad threw for his co-workers. That means there was much to do, and little things like speed bumps (or nicely shoveled family compounds, for that matter) flew under the collective radar. I guess that means I escaped this time. Now, the next time the snow falls, who knows if I’ll be so lucky?