Two Stops Past Siberia
- Projects
- Handicrafts
- Books
- A History of Inner Asia, Svat Soucek
- Beyond the Sky and the Earth, Jamie Zeppa
- Chasing the Sea, Tom Bissell
- Empires of the Silk Road: A History of Central Eurasia from the Bronze Age to the Present, Christopher I. Beckwith
- Erica Marat, The Tulip Revolution: One Year After
- High Adventure in Tibet, David V. Plymire
- Setting the East Ablaze, Peter Hopkirk
- Shadow of the Silk Road, Colin Thubron
- The Day Lasts More than a Hundred Years, Chingiz Aitmatov
- The Great Arab Conquests, Hugh Kennedy
- The Lost Heart of Asia, Colin Thubron
- This is Not Civilization, Robert Rosenberg
- Three Cups of Tea, Greg Mortenson & David Oliver Relin
- Informations
Posts Tagged Peace Corps
Barbacue of Diplomatic Proportions
First of all, a big shout to the Chicago party crew, who put me to shame by eating more of your lamb than I ever have! Brains taste like cream cheese, do they? You’ve one-upped me this time, but I’ll get you all back!
So, just after I wrote my last letter, I sat down with my wonderful Ivanovka family for my last supper. My Dad brought out some vodka for the occasion (a first for us) and then proudly pointed to the meal. “It’s chicken!” he yelled. “Naughty Chicken!” Naughty Chicken in Kyrgyz roughly translates to Kamikaze Rooster in English. That’s right, for my last meal, my family slaughtered that rooster who’d been charging my legs on my way to the outhouse. Ha! Take that rooster!
Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of activity here for the Peace Corps volunteers in Kyrgyzstan. We had a big swearing-in ceremony, hosted by the ambassador herself, and then a BBQ at her house. It featured hamburgers and chips with salsa. Boring? Mundane? Regular, you say? H’ho! Not when you’re living in Kyrgyzstan! These things are delicacies!
Along with the burgers came a couple dozen of the most fluent non-native English speakers Kyrgyzstan has ever known. The ambassador invited “the most up and coming” Kyrgyz youth the country had to offer. There was an Olympic wrestler, a pair of comedians, some super-models, and a man who cryptically referred to himself as a “fixer.” There were lots of young journalists, including one “independent” fella, who sported long hair, horn-rimmed glasses, tight jeans and red Converse All-Stars – basically the best of the 1980’s underground music scene in one living breathing Kyrgyz youngster.
Arguably, the star of the event was a guy who had spent his senior year of high school in the dead center of Missouri. He impersonated rural Americans flawlessly and cursed like a sailor. At the height of his magnetism, during a long comedic rant about everyone thinking he was a British spy, our Country Director walked by. Knowing he had his audience in the palm of his hand, he turned to her and said, “Well, at least you know I’m not a British spy, because you have all their names on a list!” At which point savvy bureaucrat met confident storyteller, two veritable mountains of the backyard barbeque. They smiled at each other knowingly, both too wise to push it further, but too tickled to just play ignorant to the beautiful moment that was happening before us. They let it sit, for just a beat, and then went along their merry ways. What a beautiful place to be, in a beautiful moment, deep in the knot of mountains, that make up the center of the largest land mass in the world.
Folks, I’m happy as a clam out here. Today I’m writing from Naryn City, my new home. It’s cool and mountainous. I’ve been eating lots of mutton, and drinking lots of lightly fermented horse milk, the national drink. What more could a boy ask for.
Originally Written June 14th, 2009
Great Sites on a Map of Chalk
So today, during the middle of week five, we all, the 60 current Peace Corps Trainees learned where we’d be spending the next two years of our lives.
This information had, previous to today, been a closely guarded secret. While, truth be told, they were still tinkering with their final decisions, the real reason for keeping us in the dark was to build a pungent anticipation for the announcement.
The ceremony revolved around us running to our announced locations on a gigantic chalk map of Kyrgyzstan’s 5 oblasts, or states, etched in the parking lot of the orphanage where we rent space to conduct our meetings. We all stood around the map, like the gallery of the Globe Theatre, to wait for our names, and applaud with abandon for our friends.
From this position, we ogled our fellow compatriots, picked out who to visit and when. The atmosphere was festive, jovial, missing only colorful tents and jugglers. Current volunteers came to great us, take pictures, share stories.
As I had hoped, I was placed in Naryn City, a place that will, in all honesty, feel like it is two stops past Siberia. Naryn sits at over 6,500 feet, nestled high in the Tian Shan Mountain range. Winters routinely reach forty below zero. The city is 99% ethnic Kyrgyz. Diet in the summer will be fruits and vegetables from the south, and in the winter is said to consist almost entirely of meat, bread and cabbage.
I didn’t enter the Peace Corps for an easy experience – and it doesn’t look like I’ll be getting one – in short, so far it’s everything I’ve dreamed of.
This news, naturally, put a positive spin on the whole rest of my day. I got ice cream with my teacher in Kant City on the way home. I was in a vest and a button-down, sleeves rolled up, perfect weather to see the fresh snow on the mountains. People often mistake me for one of the many fair skinned ethnic Russians, and today was no different. Every day I feel more like that last puzzle piece finally finding its home.
When I got to my house, the newborn puppies that live under our deck came out for the first time. Grandma, “Great Mother,” was outside tending to some toddlers, and my sister-in-law was slowly boiling a vast field of dumplings.
The night even ended with a surprise, mid-week banya! I stepped out into the cool night, freshly sweated clean, and whistled loud, knowing only that I wanted to interact with my world. My sister came out into the cold, to see only me, no late-night visitor. She laughed at me and went back inside.
I will tell you folks, the most amazing part of this entire experience thus far has been how similar everything is. I lay in my bed at night, thinking of how I could be sleeping anywhere. My family is a family like any other. We work to get along, to have fun with what we’ve got., and who we’ve got around us Its beautiful, and simple, and perfect. So much so far has been both profoundly grandiose and powerfully grounding. People are people, it seems, no matter where they are.
Originally Written April 28th, 2009
Clustr Map
Kyrgy Carl, Making Waves!
