The Adventures of Hotard

Peace Corps Kazakhstan is closing

2011-11-24T20:05:00.000-08:00

Peace Corps Kazakhstan is officially suspending the program. This week all of the volunteers left their sites to gather in Almaty. I think they will be leaving the country before the end of next week.

The reasons for this have not been stated officially. Generally, it seems to be a combination of security concerns and growing government resistance. My friend Becca does an excellent job writing about the closing of the program here which goes into a better explanation of the situation.

For me, hearing the news of the closing was particularly tough. I just left the country two months ago, and I had to leave suddenly. I had intended to stay until December; I guess even had I stayed there, I would not have met that original goal. I know what the volunteers there are going through in some way. Imagine you are living your life. You have friends. You have a job. You have plans for next month, for next spring, even for next year. Then someone tells you that you have to leave. You have a week to say goodbye, and it is likely that you will never come back. All of your plans, all of your life, you just have to leave it behind. That feeling of loss and sadness is what most of the volunteers in Kazakhstan are facing. It's something most of us probably never thought of when we entered the Peace Corps. I knew there would be challenges, but I think a sudden departure was probably the least expected and most difficult of those challenges.

I don't know the exact reasons that the program is shutting down. The ministry of education is spinning it. The embassy is spinning it. One goal of PC is obviously diplomatic, so neither side wants to make the other look bad. The Ministry of Education has said that Kaz income has increased greatly over the past two decades, and PC leaving is a natural progression. However, this is really not true. The urban/rural divide is still a huge issue in Kazakhstan, and rural schools are bad. This problem isn't unique to Kazakhstan. Schools in poor neighborhoods in America are also generally bad. America is one of the richest countries in the world, and we still have a gigantic problem with the quality of education.

This past year, the Kazakhstan government began hiring more foreign teachers to work in the best schools in Kazakhstan. The salaries for these teachers is reportedly as high as $60000 a year. That is crazy money in Kazakhstan. Despite the hiring of these teachers, some Peace Corps volunteers were working in these same schools. Is Peace Corps needed if the government is willing to pay that much money for teachers? Probably not. BUT, those are the elite schools. The best of the best. Once Kazakhstan is willing to invest the same money in the village schools that the majority of volunteers are at, then the ministry's statement becomes credible. Until then, why turn down FREE native speaking English teachers?

Either way, Peace Corps is leaving. Is it a good decision? Maybe. Honestly, it was always a hostile environment. I never realized this until I was talking to an RPCV friend from Ecuador. Apparently, it is not necessarily a global volunteer phenomenon for everyone in your community think that you are all spies, to worry that your phones are tapped, and to have the state police regularly calling your boss to inquire about you. In some countries, they just accept Peace Corps without a Soviet-influenced mentality. Of course, every country has its challenges. In Kazakhstan, dealing with state police was one of those challenges. However, if a volunteer got to go to a country where that was not an issue, that'd probably be better.

I was rather surprised that they are pulling out all the volunteers. Once government resistance increased, I thought they would just phase out the program. If someone were to ask me if KZ was a good place for a new volunteer, I would have to consider the other possible countries the volunteer could go to. If in those other countries, the volunteer was less likely to be forced to move from their home community, have the police break into their apartments, or be accused in the media of being spies, then I'd have to go with the other countries. If someone were to ask me if the volunteers should all leave immediately, then I'd have to weigh the cost of those risks with the pain caused by sudden departure. I assume that PC considered that, and it still chose for the volunteers to leave early.

Right now is a tough time for a lot of people in Kazakhstan associated with Peace Corps. Host families and workplaces are left confused. PC staff must now find a new job. Volunteers must say goodbye to the country they had probably fallen in love with. My heart goes out to all those people.

Knowing that in the almost two decades PC was there, it made a real difference in the lives of some of the citizens of Kazakhstan makes the feeling of sadness a little easier to stomach.

Trains in America vs Trains in KZ

2011-10-21T21:42:00.000-07:00

Trains are the way to travel in Kazakhstan. Planes are too expensive. Buses are uncomfortable. If you want to get across the vast lands that are Kazakhstan, you are probably taking a train.

Trains are not the way to travel in America. Most people go by cars. If you travel long distance, you are probably going to take a plane. There are certain places that use trains to travel (New England, East Coast, around Chicago maybe, West Coast?), but for the majority of the country, trains are something from the past.

But how do trains here and there compare?

Price
Trains are cheap in Kazakhstan. The cheap class of a ticket for a ten-hour train ride from Taraz to Almaty costs about $10. So a 24-hour train ride is probably about $20. Trains in America are not cheap. The 24-hour train from Savannah to Boston cost $125. This was equivalent to the cost of a plane ticket. I took the train because it was easiest to ship my bike. Cost is a big problem with trains in America. If trains and planes cost the same in Kazakhstan, people there would also not take trains.
Winner: Kazakhstan

Bathrooms

Amtrak has much cleaner bathrooms. Amtrak has bathrooms you can use all
the time, even when you are passing through a city. Amtrak bathrooms
have a light to show you someone is occupying it. Kazakhstan's bathrooms
are dirty, sometimes closed (since you don't want to open the hole to
the tracks in a city), and have no occupancy indicators. It seems like
Amtrak would be the clear winner, right? Wrong. Kazakhstan bathrooms
have a much better set up for long-distance train rides. They have a
drain in the middle of the floor. They have lots of hooks you can hang
things with. They are practically made so you can shower yourself in
there. And yeah, you don't really want to hang out in them, but why
would you ever want to hang out in a train bathroom. I value
practicality over comfort, and Kazakhstan trains win hands down. Winner:
Kazakhstan.

Lightning Round

1. Air-conditioning: Amtrak has it. Kazakhstan does not. Sometimes the windows do not even open. Winner: Amtrak.
2. Lights. Amtrak never turns the lights off. Kazakhstan does. Winner: Kazakhstan.
3. Food available. Amtrak has food available on the train. Kazakhstan has food available at every stop along the way. Amtrak's food is boring and standard. Kazakhstan has melons, smoked fish, shashlik, fresh fruit, etc. Plus, babushkas will usually give you food for free. Winner: Tie
4. Buying tickets: Amtrak let's you do it online. Kazakhstan lets you do it online. Winner: Tie.
5. Seats: Amtrak has comfortable seats. Kazakhstan has beds! Beds! But sometimes people sit on you when you are lying in your bed. Hmmm.... Winner: Kazakhstan by a hair
6. Customer Service: Amtrak was awesome when I was shipping my bike to Boston. They were not good when my bike didn't show up. Kazakhstan train customer service usually ranges from bad to average. Winner: Kazakhstan.

Total count: 5 for K, 1 for A, and 2 ties

In short, if you can't tell, I love trains in Kazakhstan.

Home in America

2011-10-04T15:03:00.000-07:00

I left Kazakshtan on September 10, 2011. I've been home now for about three weeks. I don't know when I'll be back. I enjoyed my time there. I met great . I saw a lot of interesting things. I came back with amazing stories and friendships.

I'll post more about Kazakhstan eventually. There are always more stories to be told. But for now, I'm moving on. I am living in Savannah with my parents and I have begun the process of "looking for a job."

However, while I was in Kazakhstan, I happened to meet a lot of people who were touring the world on bicycles. It started with Michael from the Czech Republic, followed with Stellen, Stephen, Koen, and countless others. I'm not adventurous enough to tackle the globe, but I've decided to go a bike trip before entering the world of work. I 'm going to be going from Boston to Savannah (approximately 2000 KM). To record this adventure, I've started a new blog. I'm going to try out wordpress and see how I like their platform. You can find my new blog at www.hotardonabike.wordpress.com.

Heading East: Career and Leadership Camp!

2011-09-05T22:30:00.000-07:00

They decided on the rock and roll faces while I was setting up the self timer

I haven’t been everywhere in Kazakshtan. I never made it west past Kyzlorda, so I never saw the Caspian, the Aral Sea, or any cities out that way. I also never made it to Pavlador or Kokshetau. But this past week, I was finally able to cross off Ust-Kamenogorsk from my list. It will most likely be the last new city that I visit in Kazakshtan, since we have travel restrictions placed on us the last three months of our service. (Understandably, they want us to “finish strong” at our sites.)

Back in June, a volunteer in Ust sent out an email saying she was doing a camp on leadership, careers, and international education. When boiled down, that’s really been the focus for the bulk of my service. I couldn’t imagine a better camp, and it would mean work travel to visit East Kazakhstan Oblast. I’d like to imagine the competition was stiff to claim a spot at her camp, but really I have no idea. She said I could help out, and I had to rearrange my summer schedule to make it fit.

Ust is a long way away from Taraz. I left last Thursday on a midnight bus to Almaty. I was looking to go cheap, so I grabbed a seat in the back row. It had been a couple years since I’d done that, and I had forgotten how uncomfortable that row makes the ten-hour ride. I was a zombie all day in Almaty before boarding my 23 hour train to Ust that set off at 10PM. The train ride was much more comfortable though. I was able to catch up on my sleep and finish “The Big Short” which was excellent, and anyone interested in the financial crisis and wanting an interesting story should find and read it. Saturday night I was able to hang out with my old friend AC and Sunday Meriah showed me around the city.

Ust is the capital of East Kazakshtan, but it is not the oblast’s only city. A few hundered kilometers away is Semei, which was home to Abai and also housed Dostoyevsky for a while. I would have liked to visit it as well, but I’m out of vacation days now. Ust is famous for its “strelka” which means arrow. This is the city’s riverwalk. It is call an arrow, because two rivers meet at a certain point of it. Overall, Ust was a lot prettier than I imagined. I had heard that the city was very polluted because of its large industry sector (there’s a lot of mineral processing done there), but that didn’t stop them from having a very nice riverwalk and some nice parks. The smoke stacks from the factories were very noticeable on the city skyline though, and they seemed to be located in the center of town rather than on the outskirts. Also, much like people in Taraz will quickly mention their city is the most criminal in all of Kazakhstan, the people of Ust were quick to say our ecology is horrible. However, they didn’t have any pride in this fact.

Aside from the parks, the rivers, and the smokestacks, the next most noticeable thing in the city was a chain of cafes called Pizza Blues. They seemed to be everywhere. In Taraz, we have a lot of cafes, but we don’t have any major chains. In Shymkent, they have about five Madlens, so maybe that is comparable, but there seemed to be way more Pizza Blues than that. We eventually got to try it out, and the pizza was horrible. I would rate it below a Totinos pizza in terms of taste. It was somewhat cheap though, so it had that going for it at least.

The camp itself ran from Monday to Friday. It was located about 80km outside the city at a camp that the university owned on a small lake. The setting was gorgeous. Small rock mountains surrounded the lake which were great for doing some short treks up and down. Melissa had picked 18 of her best students, all of them being girls because no boys applied for the camp. During the four days, we had them write resumes, statements of purpose, and prepare for a mock interview. I was surprised by how much work they put into it outside of the sessions. In their free time, they may have been sitting down by the lake, but they did so with their resumes and statements of purpose. We also did some teambuilders and leadership activities with them, which they had lots of fun with. In the evenings, we did evening activities, which included me finally using the karaoke program that Ken gave me years ago.

For me, the camp was just awesome. The students were so enthusiastic and engaged. My favorite memories include our talent show at the end (I juggled volleyballs, or at least tried to, while the other volunteers sang Lean on Me), karaoke (the most popular song was “My Heart Will Go On”), team builders, mountain climbing (Jenny, Elena and I actually made it to the top!), and yoga (yeah, I even did yoga for a whole week.) The other volunteers were also great, and amazingly there was someone from Kaz 20, 21, 22, and 23. Now I’m back at. I have thirteen weeks left in Kazakhstan, That’s like a college semester or so. I know it’s going to fly by. I just have to try and hunker down now and finish strong.

Camp's location

Sunset over the steppe

First take

My favorite teambuilder

Our beautiful lodgingTrust fall with the students

Continued thoughts on Georgia: Civil War

2011-08-31T22:15:00.000-07:00

In 1991, Georgia announced independence from the Soviet Union. And soon afterwards, they went to war. Two of its regions wanted to secede from Georgia: Abkhazia and South Osseida. They had been part of Georgia during the Soviet Union, and they were historically parts of the kingdom of Georgia on and off again for the past two thousand years. However, there were some reasons for them to want to be separate. I don’t know much about South Ossedia, so I’ll focus mostly on Abkhazia. (This is what we may call interpreted history rather than objective history. I am repeating what I was told, so in some ways this is the history that exists in the minds of at least some people in Georgia. I must admit that this is a one-sided story, but unfortunately that’s the only side I got to hear. I hope that reading this will encourage some people to look up information themselves and find out more.)

Abkhazians have their own language. They are also mostly Islamic, while Georgians are Christians with a capital C. However, in 1991, only say 20% of the population in Abkhazia was actually Abkhaz. Georgian (or Mengrellian, but they consider themselves Georgian). So 20% of the population said, we want to secede. And 80% said, what? And then the minority said, get out. And the majority said, what? And then war started and 200,000 people fled Abkhazia for Georgia. The Abkhaz with the Russians helped kick out 80% of the population and then declared independence from Georgia.

A new country and a new economy are hard things to manage. Countries all over the Soviet Union went into chaos in the early 1990s. Imagine everything depending on the government. Your job, your healthcare, all your utilities. And then one day, the government stops existing. It’s hard to imagine. People don’t get paid. Things don’t get made. Utilities don’t work. People have no heating in the winter. It was tough times. In Georgia, these were exacerbated by a civil war. Not only was there a sudden lack of government, there was a war and hundreds of thousands of refugees.

I was fortunate enough to meet some amazing people during my trip, and it turned out about a dozen or so of them were refugees. Through a friend of a friend, I met up with Irakli and his family in Zugdidi, which is the city closest to the border with Abkhazia. Of course, the fighting has been over for 15 years now, and they are living a normal enough life. The government gave them an apartment to live in. Irakli and his brother both graduated from university. His father has a small business making bags for food products. But they long for their old life. Irakli grew up in a town on the coast of the Black Sea. Their house was only 30 meters away from the water. His parents grew up in that town. That was their life. And now, they are forbidden to go back. And with a mere percentage of the original residents, their house has probably been looted and now sites abandoned. Sitting there, 30 meters from the water, empty.

Irakli and his family live in a normal, although modest, apartment. Some of his relatives still haven’t received normal apartments. They live in a converted preschool. It’s not bad, but for them, it still didn’t feel like home. Soon though, seventeen years after the war, they are going to finally get apartment in a new city and somehow try and start a new life there.

August 2008. For me, that’s when I came to Kazakhstan. It’s also the Beijing Olympics. I remember because they started on my birthday. Maybe you remember another event that happened around that time. Russia invaded Georgia. The way I remember it being presented, Russia was the bad guy picking on little, innocent Georgia. They wanted to disrupt some pipeline or get land or something. In reality, this was a complicated situation. I don’t really understand what happened, but it wasn’t just a flashfire event. It had been building up for years and fighting had been escalating for months leading up to the incident. The wikipedia page on it presents an interesting story, although it is flagged for questionable neutrality (although I’m not sure from which side; it presents both in a negative light). It seems simple to conclude though, that both sides were at least partly responsible.

My new friends briefly recounted some events from the first war and the 2008 war. When I was riding around in Irakli’s uncle’s Zhugili (an old Soviet station wagon type car) he joked that it was his tank. It’s what they used when they were fleeing Abkhazia with eleven people and everything they could bring with them crammed inside. A small shell actually hit the top of it, but it was stopped by the luggage they had on top. Their tank, indeed. In 2008, everything happened quickly. Russian jets were flying everywhere. They apparently bombed the Borjomi region which started some serious fires. There were civilian casualties, including at least one foreign journalist. Peace Corps volunteers were also affected. I heard they called their Safety and Security Office saying, “Uh… there are Russian troops in my yard. What do I do?” (Since then Peace Corps rules in Georgia have been extra strict. They are issued cell phones. They get free minutes on all calls between Peace Corps phones. And you MUST have your phone with you at all times.) But the war was a short one, and a tentative peace was made. However, a war only increased incentive and justification for Russia’s presence in the disputed territories.

The refugees know that the process won’t end soon. They certainly don’t expect to go home tomorrow. But I think they have hope. How can they not? In their minds, that is their land. Their houses, their belongings, they are just 100 kilometers away, but across a distance that cannot yet be crossed. They talk about Abkhazia fondly. The beaches butt up right against the mountains. Not like Batumi, which is flat. They long to go home; they hope one day they might be able to, but until then, they are living their lives in other parts of Georgia.

Two incidents were interesting to me. One, when we were going to a cave city about 70 km away from Borjomi, we brought along a young boy of about eleven years old. He was Abkhaz, but he was visiting Georgia. The other travelers were me, and four refugees from Abkhazia. They spoke about him as if he was a novelty. Look at us, four refugees, an American, and an Abkhaz. What a crazy bunch! It seemed like they were slightly jealous of the boy, and why wouldn’t they be. He still gets to live there; and they can only dream. At one point, he was saying how beautiful Georgia was, but how Abkhazia was even prettier. The four other people with us jokingly said, we know, we lived there our whole lives!

Another time, someone was telling a friend news of Abkhazia they had heard from the boy’s mother. Apparently, Russian tourists were trying to go into the region, but they had trouble because police enforcement is rather lax there. My friend became slightly incensed, why were Russians going there? What were they doing there? There’s no reason for them to be there? And I could only think that I’ve heard constantly about how it’s amazingly beautiful, why wouldn’t they go there if they could? But that logic wasn’t in the mind of my friend. That’s his home, what right do people have to go there when he himself can’t. I assume that’s what he was thinking.

For me, it was fascinating talking to the people of Georgia about what had happened. Never in my life had I talked to refugees before. In development, you hear a lot about them. Refugees. Refugee camps. But then to meet someone who had to leave their home and couldn’t go back. To change their whole life due to war. And I longed to hear the other side. I know what I heard had to be at least somewhat biased, but honestly no one spoke badly about anyone else. If there were any bitter feelings, they did not share them with me, their guest. They only spoke about their land which is now unreachable for them. The beauty of it, and how much they miss it. Either way, it was quite an impressive display of forgiveness or restraint. And a reminder that things are never as simple as they seem.

Drinking in Georgia: A Beginner's Guide

2011-08-17T20:23:00.000-07:00

One of the joys of visiting Georgia is the wine. Georgians love wine. They love to drink it. They love to make it. They love to toast with it. But people there don’t just sit and sip on their wine. They toast and then they guzzle. That’s one reason why they drink more white wine then red wine. Sure, they make red wine, and they love it, but they admit guzzling glass after glass of red wine in a night is a lot harder than white wine.

So let’s say you sit down at a Georgia dinner, and you are poured wine. What’s the proper etiquette? You must wait for a toast. Who gives the toast? A special chosen person called the tomador. This is the table commander. He is the man in charge. He also has a second in command, but I don’t remember what that guy is called. So the tomador will say a toast about something, and then the second guy will elaborate on the toast. Then everyone drinks their glass of wine all the way or almost all the way. Don’t sip it. Down that thing. If the toast was to something normal, you can leave a bit left in your glass (friends, meeting, country), but if it something very important (to the dead, God, etc), you should drink the whole thing. Then they fill your glass back up and you wait for the next toast. There’s no drinking it in between toasts. (However, in my experience, albeit limited, we were allowed a glass of juice or water as well that we could drink from freely.) How much time is there between toasts? Sometimes just a few minutes, sometimes five minutes, sometimes longer. It depends on the tomador. Are you allowed to say your own toast? Eventually, but you better wait for a bit, and then you have to ask permission from the commander.

The toasts are usually from a set list. There’s the normal toast for meeting, for friends, for the dead, for God, for women, for peace, for etc… For me as a visitor for only two weeks, this was pretty fun. I don’t know how I’d feel there as a volunteer there for two years though. Maybe I’d get sick of the repetitiveness, but I think a lot of it depends on the table commander. Generally, they should be gregarious and interesting.

Where do they get all of this wine from? Often, they make it themselves. The eastern part of Georgia are where most of the vineyards are, but many people also have some grape vines growing in their own yards. The harvest season is in September, and apparently September and October are the times visit because Georgians celebrate this time of year (it’s also not 40 degrees in Tbilisi like it is in August). Even the people who don’t grow their own grapes may buy kilos of it to make wine out of. One family I talked to bought about 500 kilograms a year of grapes. From this, he’s make about 300 liters of good pure wine, and 300 liters of good, watered-down wine. (I am not really sure how accurately I remember the numbers, but it was a lot of grapes and a lot of wine.)

Wine is not all that they drink in Georgia though. They don’t just throw away the grape stuff after they extract the wine. They distill it to make a drink called chacha. Homemade liquor. Usually above 60 proof, possibly much much higher. Not being content with just this, they also make homemade vodka from other fruits like plums. My friend Irakli and I actually ran into his uncle distilling some vodka in the apartment lawn on my birthday. He invited us to sit down and try it. Later he measured it with this floating gauge to find out it was about 65 proof. The homemade pickles helped get that stuff down. Oh, you toast chacha and vodka the same way as with the wine.

How to make vodka

They also drink beer, but they don’t toast it. You can casually drink it like you want to.

Fill up your bottle

2011-08-12T11:34:00.000-07:00

Georgians are proud of their water, and they probably should be. They have some of the most famous mineral water in the world. The main brand being Borjomi, whose bottles may be in a nearby supermarket. It’s the one with the funny squiggle writing (aka Georgian). This company started bottling the salty, fizzy, mineral filled water from the town of Borjomi 120 years ago (as billboards there now commemorate). However, Borjomi is not unique in Georgia. Many other places also bottle the water that springs up from the ground, and in Georgia it seemed like some other ones were more popular.

Of course, there are tons and tons of natural springs through out the country, and a trip to Georgia is not complete without stopping numerous times during any trip to drink from natural springs that now have pipes and spickets coming from them. Going to Kazbegi, my marshrutka stopped twice so the driver and passengers could enjoy the spring water.

This water did not taste good.

Other trips were the same. You just stop the car, get out, and have some fresh mineral water. Sometimes this water tastes great and sometimes the water tastes like its full of metal. Either way, the people here love to drink it.

This water tasted great. It was near the town Rustavi

This water at the Green Monastary near Borjomi tasted pretty good

The line was too long, so I didn't try this water.

Borjomi is the most famous though, and the park in the center of town contains a fountain where you can fill up cups and drink the mineral water for free.

Me filling up a cup with FREE Borjomi water

Another spring nearby has cold water that is better. And this creates the interesting phenomenon of vendors selling empty plastic bottles. Never have I seen person after person selling empty plastic bottles.

The water’s free, but you have to buy the bottle

When we filled up at the Borjomi spring, some people were filling up to ten liters of the spring water.

In a somewhat ironic twist though, two of the places I stayed at in Georgia only had running water a couple times a day. There is water everywhere, but they don’t have the infrastructure to keep it pumping into their houses all day.

A Primer on Georgia (Michael's on vacation!)

2011-08-11T12:42:00.000-07:00

So I went on vacation and finally have something to write about. For the next few entries, my blog is going to feature stuff about Kyrgyzstan and Georgia. Georgia being the country and not the state. I should probably write about Kyrgyzstan first, but I’m in Georgia now, so it’s fresh. First a short introduction to Georgia.

Georgia is a small country located in the Caucuses. Is it Europe? Is it Asia? No one seems to know. (Even when I was given my Peace Corps assignment, I remember wondering this. Okay, Central Asia. So Bulguria and Ukraine are out. What about Georgia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan? When asked, people don’t really know. They see themselves more European, but overall they are the Caucuses.) They are technically in Europe, but they are Caucus people. That’s important to know.

Also, here I should note that everything I know about Georgia I learned from being here, talking to people, reading Lonely Planet, and skimming wikipedia. So this is definitely not well researched.

Anyway, Georgia is a small country. There’s about 5 million people here. 3.5 million are Georgians, and 1.5 million are others. That includes Armenians, Turks, Russians, Azeris, etc. However, even all Georgians are not all the same. Some are different nationalities like Svans and Megrellians. Georgia shares borders with Russia, Turkey, Armenia, and Azerbaijan. It also has a big coast on the Black Sea. However, the country is only a few hundred kilometers wide, and in the past two weeks, I’ve been able to make it to within miles of Turkey (really like 100 yards away), Russia, and Armenia.

Georgia is Christian. Wait, they are a democratic with freedom of religion. But they are a Christian nation. Those 3.5 million Georgians, pretty much all of them are Georgian Orthodox. And everywhere you go, it shows. If there is a hill overlooking a town here, there is a cross or a church or both prominently sitting on top. The mosques and other religious places are hidden away. When you pass by a church, people cross themselves. Wearing crosses is very popular. How this actually translates into practice, I’m not sure. But the display of religious here is important.

Georgians like to drink. The main things they drink are wine, beer, vodka, and chacha. Chacha is a homemade liquor made from grapes, after they are finished making their homemade wine. They seem to drink all three major categories of alcohol: beer, liquor, and wine. And a lot of it is homemade. They also have an interesting way of going about it that I’ll cover later on.

Georgians speak Georgian. Georgian not like any other language in the world. That’s not entirely true. People here speak different versions of Georgian like Megrellian, Georgian, or Svani. However, Georgia has its own alphabet and it has its own language branch. Yeah, like Germanic covers English, Germany, etc. Latin has Spanish, French, Italian. Slavic has tons of languages. Georgian is a whole language branch for like six million people. Crazy. The older generation (up to about 30 maybe?) all knows Russian from when they were in the Soviet Union. The younger generation is learning English instead, trying to bring it closer to the West, but possibly excluding its regional neighbors.

In addition to these facts, I will soon elaborate on mineral water, mountain landscapes, the Black Sea, and a civil war. And once again, none of this is well researched. Any wrong information is an honest mistake. I’ve just had an amazing time learning and exploring this wonderful country, and I hope more people are able to learn about it.

And just for fun, a picture or two:

Church on a hill

Georgian alphabet.

Just another Tuesday...

2011-07-12T12:11:00.000-07:00

With all the volunteers having finally left after my summer camp, I faced a quiet evening alone in the city. Instead of just relaxing, I decided to head over to Asa to help Jessica with "evening baseball," a new take on baseball camp since the temperature has been in the 40s for quite a few days now. Things that happened on this trip:

- I brought a giant bag full of plastic bottles onto the Asa bus with no problem, since I just put it on other giant bags full of things other people had brought.
- When the bus made a sudden stop, a woman near Mark almost fell out of the window. Half her body fell out including her arm holding her purse. Okay, she wasn't really in danger since the window ledge was too high, but I don't know how she held onto the purse.
- We helped hand a guy a 25 kilo bag of sugar when he got off the bus (not that crazy, but really when was the last time you did that in America)
- We arrived without calling Jessica (very local of us) to find out that baseball would be at 7 and not 6, and that they were running late (very local of them) and wouldn't be there until about 7:20
- Tried playing baseball with the kids only to realize that yeah, after two years, I still don't speak Kazakh. Luckily one of the kids helped translate
- When a local dad showed up wondering what was going on (parent interest! awesome?!), I had to ask him to put the bat down because even though he wasn't really swinging it, he did seem to not notice the kids walking around him. Maybe I'm too overly cautious, but I don't want anyone getting hit with the bat. He then said, eh, they're my kids. This put us at an awkward situation, as he did not want to let go of said bat and I was trying to politely take it from him. I then realized that I may soon have an angry man holding a bat to deal with. Luckily the situation was defused when Mark walked over and said Hello, culturally forcing the man to shake Mark's hand and relinquish the bat. (Would walking up to a man in a hostage situation saying Salom maleiikom accomplish the same thing?)
- On the way back, the tire of a van blew out while we were walking down the road. Not that unusual, but it was loud and scared me.
-We take a taxi back to town. Usually they let you off not that far into town, but sometimes they take you further. The guys asks where we are going, I say the center, and he doesn't say anything. Once we get into the city we go a little further than normal before he stops to drop off the two women passengers who were with us. One has a 2000 tenge bill for the 150 tenge ride. He pulls into a gas station to get change. He can't find any. He asks us where we are going. I again say center. He again says nothing. He runs across the street to get change and then comes back. He gives her the change. He then tells us that we have to get out because he isn't going to the center. I am confused as to why he didn't tell us this when we were sitting in his car for five minutes while he attempted to find change. Perhaps, he was as equally confused about why we thought he would take us to the center.
-While walking back, we decide to peak in a new cafe that has opened up. It is called Mr. Kumpir and it has an interesting logo. http://www.mrkumpir.com/eng/menulerimiz.html We go inside to find a surprisingly nice looking restaurant. The waiter seats us and brings us menus. It turns out there are menus on every table! Some restaurants here only have one or two menus for the whole place. Further, what we find on the menu is ridiculous. It is full of kumpirs. What is a kumpir? A baked potato! I have never seen these at a cafe in Kazakhstan. Even when they are homemade here, they are typically just baked and not decorated with any toppings. But these were gourmet ones that included toppings like red cabbage, broccoli, and beans. Further exploration revealed a value menu where you could order a hamburger, fries, and a drink for one price. Yeah, or course these exist in Almaty, but for Taraz, this is mindblowing (and was a stark contrast to Asa which we had been in only 30 minutes before). Wait, what's that on the menu? A waffle? Like a real, thick waffle? No way. Yes! They had a real waffle iron. However, waffles are only gourmet waffles, so they come with fruit, chocolate, and other toppings. In addition to these items, they also had grilled cheese sandwiches, regular sandwiches, and chicken shnitzel (which turned out to be like fried chicken breasts). All of this is made more ridiculous by the fact that in the past 36 hours, in an attempt to be super American, I had made waffles, baked potatoes, and chicken fingers and had relished in the fact that I was culinaryily unique. Nope. Just had to go down the street. We tried to order kumpirs (the speciality at Mr. Kumpir), but they were out. That's the pinch to say yes, we still are in Kazakhstan. To add to ridiculousness, at one point, the waiter even came back to see how we were doing. And when we got the check, there was no service charge and the bread we had gotten (but not asked for) was truly complimentary. The place was overpriced, but I hope it manages to stick around.

Summer camps

2011-07-05T22:12:00.000-07:00

I haven't written on this thing in forever. Surprisingly, it is working without proxy servers and I am actually on blogger. Awesome.

This week I have a ten day summer camp with kids from our Access program. I was basically in charge of putting most of it together, so I had to run all around town and find things to do. The hardest thing in Kazakhstan is getting documents from places that sell you things. So we had to nix t-shirts because they were too expensive with the right documents. So far we have had a picnic, a scavenger hunt, tours of the city, visit to the museum, icebreakers, and day at the park. Today is bowling, then American sports day, then a trip to the movie theater. We have a great group of volunteers from the South helping at the camp.

Next week, there is a break. Then Astana, then Kyrgyzstan?, then camp, then break, then Ust, then Georgia, then three more months as I hunker down and finish strong. I'll try to update soon with some pictures from camp, since I can now post them with blogger.

Oh and Happy Astana Day!

Barbra Zhorga

2011-06-13T20:18:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UAZaUIzrH7U&feature=player_embedded

Last week, we had our COS conference in Almaty. (My second and I'm still not leaving until December!) I took part in the talent show as an honorary member of SKO (South Kazakhstan Oblast). We mashed-up Barbara Streisand and Kara Zhorga. I'm the guy in the hat who is having lots of trouble staying in time.

Quick Updates

2011-05-11T08:24:00.001-07:00

Lately I've been focusing on finishing up a career test for students
here in K-stan. It's been frustrating because I rely so much on my
co-workers. If this was in America, I could write it all myself, but
here my Russian is just awful. At least my Russian writing. So
EVERYTHING I do has to be proofread by my co-workers who are busy with
other projects. I think once we get it done though, it will be very
cool though. We almost have the Russian translation down. Next comes a
Kazakh translation and a web site.

Outside of that, I've been having a great few weeks. The holidays here
were awesome. On Sunday, we played frisbee in pouring rain then
banyaed. Then on Victory Day we watched the parade like last year, but
this year I was a little less cramped. I also had a couple trips to
Shymkent that were tons of fun.

In other news, you should check out this blog post by a fellow PCV
http://katharinedoeskazakhstan.wordpress.com/2011/05/10/miss-post-teen-momushylu/.
She not only entered a local beauty pageant with a salad making
contest, she WON it. I'm jealous, since in all my contest entries so
far here I've placed third, tied for first, and second. But she
outright won. Molodets, Katharine!

Camp GLOW

2011-05-03T19:35:00.001-07:00

A couple years ago, I posted about an opportunity to help fund my friend's project that wanted to teach Kazakh lanaguage to people in his town. That project was funded, implemented, and the town government saw the response and continued to fund it. I don't know if any of my readers contributed, but it's awesome if you did.

Now another one of my friends' projects needs just a little bit more funding. Camp GLOW is an awesome experience for young women in Kazakhstan. They learn leadership, empowerment, and life skills that will help them lead healthier, happier lives. If you could give just $5 or $10, then that would make a difference in funding this camp, and the lives of these girls.

Girls Leading Our World

My friend started a challenge among her friends and family to get this funded in 48 hours. I said I'd post the link to try and help with the effort.

Please donate by 12:30 AM Thursday May 05, 2011

Fashion

2011-04-19T19:19:00.001-07:00

The other day I had on some brown pants that my parents sent me for
Christmas. Asela saw them and commented that they'd look really good
with her new brown top that I got her from America. Brown on brown,
that matches right? I said that it matched in a Kazakhstan kind of
way. Is it fashionable to wear a whole outfit of just one color in
America? Here, it's not uncommon to see full-color outfits. Like
purple. Girls will have on purple boots, a purple dress, purple
earrings, and purple eye shadow. I've seen the same for yellow, blue,
and green. It certainly stands out, but it leaves me feeling there may
be a little too much of one color going on. However it definitely
draws attention in the crowd of black that people often wear in
Kazakhstan.

Taraz Tennis

2011-04-09T12:18:00.001-07:00

So I just found out that my city is hosting a tennis tournament at the
end of April. At first, I thought this was almost as shocking as
December's dolphin show, but considering Kstan's recent success in the
Davis Cup (http://www.astanatimes.kz/index.php?uin=1290953792&pg=1301719563)
and the new tennis courts in my city (which do not rent
equipment.....ahh!!! so aggravating), maybe it's not that big of a
surprise. Still, pro tennis in Taraz seems almost as strange as pro
boxing in Shymkent (http://www.boxingletstalk.com/?p=7434).

More on the Taraz tennis tournament at
http://www.itftennis.com/mens/tournaments/tournamentfactsheet.asp?tournament=1100023971.

Unrelated to Kazakhstan, but highly related to tennis
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kK42LZqO0wA (click link to hear really
catchy song and entertaining music video)

Re-adjusting to Kazakhstan

2011-04-07T20:39:00.001-07:00

Looking back at my six week vacation in America, I definitely did not
enjoy it enough. I mean, I enjoyed it. I loved seeing everyone that I
got to see. I loved talking to everyone on the phone instead of over
skype, and when the time difference was at most three hours. I loved
all of it. But I took it for granted. Sure, the first week there, I
was amazed by America, but then it all felt normal. Now I'm back in
Kazakhstan, and I realize I should have eaten way more deli meat.
Drank way more root beer. Eaten more steak and more bacon and more of
everything. I also should have brought back more candy to give away
when I got back. And I should have taken more pictures.

So my advice for anyone who goes home to America, make a list of
things you want in America and get it when you first get there. Write
yourself a letter reminding yourself of all the things you can't have
in Kazakhstan. Then when you get saturated in America, read that
letter and try to remind yourself.

When I first came to Kazakshtan, I was all pumped about the Peace
Corps. I was ready for not having the finer things in life. I didn't
know if I'd have to pump my own water or eat strange food. I think
fresh PCVs get excited about having an inconvenient life. I know I
was. But now, the novelty of inconvenience has definitely worn off.
America life is so much easier and more comfortable than life here.
Maybe to excess. No, definitely to the excess. The level of
consumption in America was ridiculous. Just the sheer number of
"things" one could buy was crazy. But at the same time, I like having
a big choice of deli meats. I like paying my bills online or even with
checks. I like having a shower head that hangs on the wall. I like
having bitter beers and dark beers (do any of these exist anywhere in
Kazakhstan?) I wish people in America would choose to lead a simpler
life than they do, but I wish people here had more of a chance to make
that choice.

Surprises

2011-04-04T06:05:00.001-07:00

Kazakhstan is full of surprises. That's one reason why I love it so
much here. The first surprise when I came back was a small one. My
luggage actually made it with me! Despite only having an hour in the
Frankfurt airport (called ), Lufthansa managed to get it onto my plane
to Almaty.

The next was a huge surprise. After picking up my luggage, my thoughts
turned to finding a taxi. It was 12:30 at night and I was at the
airport. Now normally, taxis are dirt cheap in Almaty. You can get
them for like three or four bucks. However, taxi drivers are notorious
sharks at Almaty airport. They love to prey on unknowing tourists both
foreign and local. I think a normal, yet still overly priced based on
the distance, may be ten dollars. However, taxi drivers will start
quoting prices as high as sixty or seventy dollars. People may cut
that in half and they are still getting ripped off. And even when you
agree on a price at the airport, they might start negotiating again
while driving. And when it's dark, you're alone with the driver, and
all your stuff is in the back of his trunk, he has a lot of leverage
on you. In short, I was not excited to have to deal with taxi drivers.

I walked through customs and out into the airport. My plan was to make
it outside and find a cab when I heard my name being called. Michael,
Michael. I looked up and saw Andrey, one of the Peace Corps drivers
waiting for me. There he was his bushy mustache and large smile. I
don't know if I was ever happier to see anyone in my whole life. "What
are you doing here? I didn't know Peace Corps picked us up from the
airport," I said comfortably in Russian, surprised at how smoothly it
came out. "Of course. Now give me one of your bags." Andrey took my
wheeling bag and I walked out of the airport with a huge grin on my
face. (Since then, I've asked a few volunteers and no one knew that
Peace Corps does this. Is this a new service? It's a great idea for
comfort and for safety.)

I stayed over night at the Peace Corps office, and woke up early to
get to the bus station Sayaran. I was surprised to see a bus listed
for 830. I thought the earliest ones left at nine. I was getting
settled in my seat (8 dollars for a 600km trip) when I heard English
behind me. I looked around and didn't see any obvious foreigners.
Strange to hear English on a bus to Taraz. I then heard it again and
decided to ask what was up. It seemed to be coming from four girls and
a guy a few rows behind me. "Excuse me, I said. But can I ask why you
guys are speaking English." "Are you an American?" one of them asked
excitedly. "Yes. I am a Peace Corps volunteer." "Wow. We are going to
Shymkent to meet all of the Peace Corps volunteers in Kazakhstan. This
is our friend, Michael," one of them said pointing to a guy in the
second-to-last row. He was Asian-American volunteer living in
Taldykorgan, so he did a lot better job blending in on the bus. "Why
are you guys on the Taraz bus if you are going to Shymkent?" I asked
(since Taraz is about 150 km before Shymkent). "We just figured we'd
head that way." Maybe I should have said that they could find a
Shymkent bus, but by that time our bus was beginning to get on its
way. They'd find a way somehow.

The bus ride was a real welcome back to Kazakhstan. I have taken that
bus ride probably about thirty times either going to Almaty or coming
back from Almaty. It was the third worse one ever. I think it was the
combination of being used to American roads, the construction being
done on the road, and the fact that all the potholes from winter icing
hadn't been filled in yet. We also took an hour detour through Shy
which meant we had to spend even longer on the stuffy, hot bus.

Finally, after ten hours I arrived in Taraz. The PCV from Taldy and
his friends had to find a taxi to Shymkent because all the marshrutkas
had left for the day. Asela met me at the bus stop to tell me yet
another surprise. My landlady who usually lives in Almaty was in Taraz
because it was Nauryz. She was staying at my apartment with her two
sons for the whole week. I just wanted to relax a couple days without
all the fuss of a semi-host family, and Mark was gracious enough to
let me crash at his place while he was in Shymkent.

Less than 24 hours back in country and I'd had a great surprise at the
airport, an interesting surprise on the bus, a really uncomfortable 10
hour bus ride, and another surprise upon arriving in my city. I felt
like I was definitely back in Kazakhstan.

Peace Corps Uniforms?

2011-04-01T07:30:00.001-07:00

Did anyone else see this today? This is the first I'm hearing about it. In Kazakhstan, they'll probably have to issue the men suits and crazy boots for the women.

Peace Corps to Issue Uniforms to New Volunteers

A representative from Peace Corps announced that beginning this summer new volunteers would be issued official Peace Corps clothing to wear during their 27-month service. Volunteers will be expected to wear the special clothing with the Peace Corps insignia during their first two to three months of training and also while they were working at their primary site. This change comes as Peace Corps staff around the world faced troubles getting volunteers to dress professionally in their work environment. Because the climate and culture can vary drastically in the 77 countries currently hosting Peace Corps Volunteers, each country's director will be able to set the specific uniform standard. However, all uniforms will have a patch with the Peace Corps emblem sewn onto it.

"In addition to ensuring a more professional appearance from our volunteers, this will also be a great opportunity to support the Peace Corps brand. Our volunteers are out there doing great work, all over the world, everyday, and we want people to realize this," a Peace Corps representative said.

Based on blogs of Peace Corps volunteers, most of them seemed shocked by this news and have reacted negatively. One volunteer blogger responded with, "If it wasn't Peace Corps, I probably wouldn't believe this. But if there's anything I've learned is that never know what to expect as a PCV. I think we're responsible enough to dress ourselves though." Another posted, "I always wished Peace Corps had given me a free shirt or something, but this seems a little ridiculous."

It was not clear if these changes would affect current volunteers or only be implemented for volunteers who begin their service starting this summer.

Holidays!

2011-03-15T15:07:00.000-07:00

My holidays are almost over (that's right, in British English vacations are called holidays), and I'm just about ready to go back to Kazakhstan. My time at home has been awesome. I got to see so many people and places and spend a lot of time with my family. I caught up on some new American trends (e.g. fro-yo, gourmet cupcakes, craft beers in cans, Millennium trilogy). I got to eat a lot of good food. And I will get to participate in St. Patrick's Day! Also related to holidays, Kazakhstan will have three days off this year for Naryz (Central Asian New Years). That's the 21st, 22nd, and 23rd.

Maybe this is just from the people I know, but in general, most of my colleagues and friends never know when the holidays are in Kazakhstan. I remember working in Zhualy and I told my boss in two days we had some holiday. He had no idea. This year my co-workers and friends seemed to have no idea that Wednesday (the day after Naryz) was also going to be a holiday. It's been on the calendar for months as a "red day." (Holidays and Sundays are marked in red on Kazakhstan calendars. Although, I think for the calendar I made for my work, I didn't make the 23rd red. This could have led to the confusion.) This just seems so different compared to America. We plan ahead for months. One of the first things we did as students was to map out when our holidays would be so we could plan to go on trips or things. In Kazakhstan, based on my anecdotal experiences, this does not seem to be the case.

Also, I missed International Women's Day. I didn't celebrate it this year, but I thought about all my wonderful women friends in Kazakhstan. I should be back to celebrate the New Year, but hopefully I won't be too tired to try some scrumptious Naryz Kozhe.

Culture shock

2011-02-17T21:51:00.000-08:00

These were all going to be expanded, but I got lazy. Maybe I'll revisit to explain what they mean, but I think most people who have lived abroad will understand.

College logos
Understanding everything
SO MANY THINGS
Drivers are not crazy
Shoes in the house
Clean outside
Everything is paved over
street lights
no idea how to use smart phones
not washing dishes by hand
Newspapers delivered
my family does not own a tea pot and had to borrow a kettle
no tea time
ceiling fans
our table is a mess and stays that way
soda, lots of soda
beer. tasty beer.
dilemma over where the toilet paper goes
light switches look funny but are well-placed
people are friendly. airport stewardesses, waffle house people, everyone
american barbershops
no gates around houses
round the clock news
rocking chairs
remembering what it's like, and not really wanting it. but maybe that will change
exercise equipment in our house

America!!!

2011-02-05T06:33:00.000-08:00

So I'm home. Finally. It was a long trip made even longer by a delay in DC. I was supposed to go Almaty-Frankfurt-DC-Savannah. But instead we went Almaty - Astana (but we didn't get off the plane) - Frankfurt (6 hours) - Washington... So in Washington we got in 15 minutes late which made my hour and half scheduled flight very unlikely. Compounded by the fact that the woman in Almaty only checked my baggage through to DC instead of to Jacksonville (meaning I had to go recheck my bags and go back through security) and it was likely that I would not be making my flight.

Despite this, I was giddy when I landed. I saw the flag as I was landing and tears almost came to my eyes. Two years and five months. I swear the ground just felt sturdier walking on Ameican soil. I was home.

I cleared immigration really quickly, but I was flagged for customs because I was bringing in horse meat. At customs, they just asked me what I was bringing in. I said horse meat in cans. They check the computer. Nope, no current regulations due to equine flu. Horse meat allowed! I only have two cans though, so I don't know whom to share it with.

Now I have to recheck my bag, and my flight boards in about five minutes. The woman at that desk is honest with me. It looks like they've rebooked me and I have to get tickets for tomorrow morning. I go up to the ticketing booth considering how I'll contact Brian to see if I can crash at his place for the night, when I meet an angel at the ticket counter. She looks at my trip and says maybe, maybe she can get me home tonight if I'm ready to travel. DC - Cincinnati - Charlotte - Savannah. I'll be home at 11:30. If there's one thing I'm bad at doing, it's not doing anything. If given the chance of just sitting and waiting or doing something, I'm always doing something. Plus, I wanted to get home. She booked me tickets and I was off on my way.

Once I got to the gate, I borrowed someone's phone to call my family. I had asked a couple earlier just when we got off the Frankfurt flight, but they also didn't have a local phone. They recommended I just dial the country code or something on my phone. Right, that'd be great if I get Beeline signal here. So I called the house. Or tried to. The phone the guy handed me was an Android touch phone thing. I had no idea how to turn it on. Wouldn't just touching the screen make sense? Nooo, you had to press some switch on top. So he turned it on for me and I called home. No answer. Did they already leave? Call the cell phone. No answer. I leave a voice mail. And then continue on my journey.

Cincinnati (where I eat a sandwich, first meal in America Roast Beef vegetable sandwich (DELICIOUS. Sandwiches are amazing.)), then Charlotte (with rocking chairs. As I was racing through the airport, I had to sit down in one for just a few seconds. WHY are these not in Kazakhstan. People there would love them, I'm pretty sure.) In Charlotte, I call home and talk to my mom. I find out she didn't get my voice mail until after my first flight landed. So they were waiting there and really sad when I didn't get off the plane. She still didn't call the voice mail, but she did notice a missed call from a random number. So she called the guy whose phone I used and he told her that her son was flying around the country trying to get home tonight.

Then finally, the final flight. 32 hours later I was home. Home! My mom was holding a sign and I almost cried. Home! Home! Home! And even one of my bags made it on time (but not the one with the horse meat). The steak dinner I requested was not fulfilled (yet), so I was given to choices: Waffle House or Krystal. Since my family admitted to eating Krystal on the way back from the airport the first time (without me?! what?), we went to Waffle House. Sweet tea, waffle, and hash browns (smothered, covered, diced, and peppered).

Tomorrow I'll blog about reverse culture shock. It's so happening to me.

America!

2011-02-02T19:58:00.001-08:00

So I'm going back to America in a day. For a six week vacation. I haven't been home in two years, five months, and maybe 2 weeks. It's been a long time. For the past two weeks (maybe longer), this is pretty much all I could think about. Well this, and a ton of projects at work that I just finished. Or mostly finished.

I'm excited. I'm nervous. I can't wait to be home and see family and friends. I've also picked the Packers for the Super Bowl. I hope to see everyone back home if I can. I'll probably catch up on my blog while I'm at home, but who knows?

Save the Saiga

2011-01-18T03:17:00.000-08:00

So I'll post much awaited New Year's posts later, including ones about the French Couchsurfers who are walking around the world and the Asian Games Torch passing through Taraz. But today, I have an important message. We need to save the Saiga.

I was inspired to post this by a new story I saw that said the ban on Saiga hunting is being extended until 2020 (apparently this doesn't need 200,000 signatures). This is necessary because the Saiga is critcally endangered, but extremely cute. There are only about 90,000 of them left in the wild. They are often hunted by poachers who want to sell their horns to people who make folk medicine from them.

I support the saiga, and I hope you do too.

AMERICA

2011-01-13T19:05:00.001-08:00

So after two years and five months, I am finally going back to
America! For six whole weeks! This is super exciting for me because I
haven't even left Kazakhstan in over a year now. I was supposed to go
home in November, but then I signed on for another year, and I decided
to take my home leave later. I'll be home for the Super Bowl, Brad and
Karen's wedding, and St. Patrick's Day. That's a pretty good slate of
events.

This is my tentative schedule:
4 - 18 Savannah
19 - 28 Atlanta/Athens
1-6 Nashville
7-19 ???/Savannah

I'd love to see family, old friends, and maybe even meet new friends
during these six weeks at home. And I'm looking to play in some
ultimate frisbee pickup/games/anything resembling a structured game
(bonus points if cleats are worn). Unfortunately, I've lost touch with
a lot of people while I've been in Kazakhstan, so I really don't know
where anyone is anymore. Let me know where you are so we can meet up.

Oh, and Happy Old New Years (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_New_Year).

Holiday Celebrations

2011-01-02T22:06:00.001-08:00

(This is the full story from Kurban Ait this year. The first part was already posted a few days ago. If you already read that part, then you can skip down to that section. Ait occurred in mid-November.)

I killed a sheep. Well, sort of. Actually, I paid to have a sheep sacrificed at the local mosque in order to give the meat away to the poor. Here's the story.

Kurbain Ait is a big holiday for Muslims. It celebrates the day that Abraham was going to sacrifice his son, but at the last minute, God told him to stop. Abraham had shown his faith in God, and he was rewarded for it. In his son's place, he sacrificed a sheep instead. Muslims all around the world still continue this tradition by sacrificing sheep on this day. From my understanding, any Muslim who can financially afford it should sacrifice a sheep on this day. This meat should then be used for a feast and given away to poor families. While we don't make a lot in Peace Corps, I figured that if we all pooled our money together we could afford to buy a sheep, have it butchered, and then donate the meat to the poor.

Two years ago, Kurban Ait was pretty traditional. At the time, I was living in the village of Dihan that had about 1000 people. I didn't actually see my host family kill a sheep, but we did go gosti a lot to other people's houses. Last year, I did nothing at all related to Ait, and it felt pretty sad. I did see some people slaughtering sheep around my apartment complex (a practice which was outlawed this year in Astana), but I didn't do anything. No gosting, no sheep. Nothing. Living in the city is a lot different than living in the village. Culture and tradition are around you, but they aren't always as apparent and easily accessible.

This year, I have decided to throw myself into all celebrations with gung ho enthusiasm. This is my last year (finally) in Kazakhstan; I have to live it as well as I can. So my first idea for Kurban Ait was to kill a sheep and donate the meat to the poor. The obvious question is, how? First, how do we find a sheep and have it butchered, and second, how do we find the poor to give the meat to. I asked a lot of people, and no one seemed to have a solid answer. It didn't help that the weekend before Ait (it was on a Tuesday), I was traveling and couldn't visit the bazaar to ask around for sheep. Monday the bazaar is closed (like a barbershop), so we (by then Mark was in on this idea as well) had no real places to seek advice.

The second question, assuming we were able to slaugher a sheep, was to whom do we give the meat. We had heard you should give the meat away, but we didn't know where to find suitable families. I've read that many Muslims in America donate some of the meat to food pantries, but there are no food pantries here. In Taraz at least, there is no one that is dedicated to working with poor families. Everyone I asked didn't really give the meat away to the poor. They just cooked a lot of it for a celebration and invited all of their friends and neighbors. Some of these people were likely to be less well-off financially, and therefore they are giving away the meat as charity. That didn't seem to be in the spirit of what I read on wikipedia (a great source, right?) that 1/3 of the meat should be for your family, 1/3 for your relatives and friends, and 1/3 for the poor. We wanted to give our meat away to people who could really benefit from it. Our best solution was to give the meat to the mosque, thinking they would know whom to give it to.

Well, it was the day before Ait, and we still had no clear idea of what we should do. Then my co-worker Akmaral, had a great idea. We should go to the mosque and talk to an imam about it. If anyone knows, they should know. Mark and I met up that evening and went to the mosque near his house. It seemed busy with activity, as people were preparing for Ait the next day. One young man saw us, and asked if we needed any help. I told him that we heard tomorrow was a holiday and that we wanted to "rezat" (cut, but also means sacrifice) a sheep. He told us that we should come back the next day after 9:00. He didn't fully explain what we should be expecting or planning on doing at 9:00 the next day, but Mark and I were happy. Even if our plan was now show up at the mosque at 9:00 and see what happens, we at least had a plan.

PART TWO PART TWO PART TWO PART TWO

Being Americans, we decided to actually show up at 8:45 in case we were supposed to get there right at 9:00. We showed up early, but it was well worth it to see the site. The courtyard of the mosque was PACKED with men praying together. And if the courtyard was that full, we knew inside was just as full. [Side note. In America, there is a public debate about the secularization of holidays (Santa versus Jesus, the Easter Bunny versus Jesus, etc.). And even though the locals don't seem to care if many holidays have lost touch with their religious roots, it bothers me to see. Therefore, I was really excited to see so many people actually gathering for prayer on the religious holiday. ] Prayer ended at about 9:00 and people filed out of the gates for 10 minutes. There were that many people. More and more people just kept leaving the mosque.

Finally, the crowd of people had dissipated, and Mark and I cautiously entered the courtyard. Most importantly, I didn't want to insult anyone or show disrespect for their holiday. We aren't Muslims, but we were interested in learning more and participating to the degree possible for non-Muslims. Muslim faith around the world varies a lot on its acceptance of non-believers, and I wasn't sure where the followers in Kazakhstan fall on that spectrum. I felt a little nervous walking into the courtyard. Remember, we had no plan. Just show up and see what happened. We were standing there, probably looking lost and awkward when a man started yelling at us.

It took a second for us to realize what he was saying, or maybe he started off barking orders at us in Kazakh. However, we noticed he was saying, Go help. Go help. He was pointing a finger at a pile of carpets rolled up against the wall. One other young guy was gathering up the carpets and carrying them to a different part of the courtyard. Okay, so we'll go help move some carpets. Mark and I went over to the pile and picked up some rugs. It only took about five minutes to move all the carpets to their new spot, but it felt good to help out. Assisting at the local mosque on Kurban Ait, that's something I never expected to do in my lifetime.

Once we were done with that though, we were once again lost for what we should do next. By now the hundreds of people that had been there were thoroughly gone. In the center of the courtyard, there wans't anyone around. However, off to the left side there was a stable. And in the stable there were about two dozen sheep. And next to the stable with the two dozen sheep, there was an imam blessing sheep before they were butchered. Jackpot.

So Mark and I go from awkwardly standing around the courtyard to awkwardly standing around the stable area. We were so close, but I still felt nervous. Were the sheep for sale, or were they already donated to the mosque? How much did they cost? If we walked up and naively asked, would we get ripped off by the people there? We did watch a couple sheep get blessed and then sacrificed. And then… we left.

Too nervous. Too scared. We came close. We did a lot. Visited a mosque, saw a sheep sacrifice. That was good enough, right? Man up. Man up. Do it. We went back in. Luckily, this time someone started talking to us. What do you guys want. We then explained, we want to buy a sheep, have it killed, then give its meat away to the poor. The guy said that we could do all that there if we wanted. We could buy some sheep. We could have it butchered, but the meat giving away we'd have to do on our own. He suggested we find some beggars in the bazaar and give the meat to them.

So we picked our sheep. A fairly thin-sized guy that we most definitely overpaid for. Then they tied him up, and brought him out of the stable. They killed it as humanely as they could (the sheep don't struggle much). While we were waiting for it to be butchered, they told me I should go get some plastic bags for all the meat. Then they skinned it, and divided the meat into pieces. While all this was happening, we began talking with some of the other guys that were there. Overall, they were pretty receptive to what our idea was. No one seemed to take offense that we were there. It seemed pretty novel that Americans had shown up to do this. Once all the meat was divided up in five plastic bags, they asked if we wanted the coat. I did, but I had no idea if it needed to be treated so as not to smell.

So we left the mosque with our five bags wondering how we would give out the meat. We had decided that we'd give most of it away, but we wanted to save some to give to friends here. That didn't quite work out though, because we were bombarded by people as soon as we left the courtyard. To women there who had been begging asked for some meat, as well as two guys. One of the guys we had talked to for a while inside the mosque; the other guy we had never seen before. Before we knew it, Mark and I had given away all of the meat except for the head and the four hooves. The one mystery guy ended up putting the meat on a cart full of food, so I wasn't sure if he really needed it. But how can a person really know? And the idea is about giving and charity. If he thought he needed it, then I don't mind giving it away.

We threw the hooves to some dogs on the way home, and we saved the head for a while. We even decided to name our belated sheep, Kizbolson, which means wish for a girl in Kazakh. (It's a play on the actual Kazakh name of Ulbolson, which some girls are called. Ulbolson means wish you were a boy. Yes, some girls must live their entire lives with the name, we wish you were a boy. We think this was the first time the name Kizbolson was ever even thought of in Kazakhstan's history.)

Overall, our goal was successful. We felt very integrated, going to the mosque and having a sheep sacrificed. Later, we gostied three houses to continue in the holiday spirit. Although, I didn't host anyone, so that was one part of the holiday I missed. I have more commentary on how those gostings went, but I may write about those later.

The next major holiday I plan on throwing myself into with full enthusiasm as New Year's. This year I'm going to be buying some fireworks. (Where some = lots!)

Holiday celebrations

2011-01-01T07:23:00.001-08:00

(So this post was written a couple months ago, but it got lost on the
cluttered desktop. Kurban Ait was celebrated on November 17, 2010.)

I killed a sheep. Well, sort of. Actually, I paid to have a sheep
sacrificed at the local mosque in order to give the meat away to the
poor. Here's the story.

Kurbain Ait is a big holiday for Muslims. It celebrates the day that
Abraham was going to sacrifice his son, but at the last minute, God
told him to stop. Abraham had shown his faith in God, and he was
rewarded for it. In his son's place, he sacrificed a sheep instead.
Muslims all around the world still continue this tradition by
sacrificing sheep on this day. From my understanding, any Muslim who
can financially afford it should sacrifice a sheep on this day. This
meat should then be used for a feast and given away to poor families.
While we don't make a lot in Peace Corps, I figured that if we all
pooled our money together we could afford to buy a sheep, have it
butchered, and then donate the meat to the poor.

Two years ago, Kurban Ait was pretty traditional. At the time, I was
living in the village of Dihan that had about 1000 people. I didn't
actually see my host family kill a sheep, but we did go gosti a lot to
other people's houses. Last year, I did nothing at all related to Ait,
and it felt pretty sad. I did see some people slaughtering sheep
around my apartment complex (a practice which was outlawed this year
in Astana), but I didn't do anything. No gosting, no sheep. Nothing.
Living in the city is a lot different than living in the village.
Culture and tradition are around you, but they aren't always as
apparent and easily accessible.

This year, I have decided to throw myself into all celebrations with
gung ho enthusiasm. This is my last year (finally) in Kazakhstan; I
have to live it as well as I can. So my first idea for Kurban Ait was
to kill a sheep and donate the meat to the poor. The obvious question
is, how? First, how do we find a sheep and have it butchered, and
second, how do we find the poor to give the meat to. I asked a lot of
people, and no one seemed to have a solid answer. It didn't help that
the weekend before Ait (it was on a Tuesday), I was traveling and
couldn't visit the bazaar to ask around for sheep. Monday the bazaar
is closed (like a barbershop), so we (by then Mark was in on this idea
as well) had no real places to seek advice.

The second question, assuming we were able to slaugher a sheep, was to
whom do we give the meat. We had heard you should give the meat away,
but we didn't know where to find suitable families. I've read that
many Muslims in America donate some of the meat to food pantries, but
there are no food pantries here. In Taraz at least, there is no one
that is dedicated to working with poor families. Everyone I asked
didn't really give the meat away to the poor. They just cooked a lot
of it for a celebration and invited all of their friends and
neighbors. Some of these people were likely to be less well-off
financially, and therefore they are giving away the meat as charity.
That didn't seem to be in the spirit of what I read on wikipedia (a
great source, right?) that 1/3 of the meat should be for your family,
1/3 for your relatives and friends, and 1/3 for the poor. We wanted to
give our meat away to people who could really benefit from it. Our
best solution was to give the meat to the mosque, thinking they would
know whom to give it to.

Well, it was the day before Ait, and we still had no clear idea of
what we should do. Then my co-worker Akmaral, had a great idea. We
should go to the mosque and talk to an imam about it. If anyone knows,
they should know. Mark and I met up that evening and went to the
mosque near his house. It seemed busy with activity, as people were
preparing for Ait the next day. One young man saw us, and asked if we
needed any help. I told him that we heard tomorrow was a holiday and
that we wanted to "rezat" (cut, but also means sacrifice) a sheep. He
told us that we should come back the next day after 9:00. He didn't
fully explain what we should be expecting or planning on doing at 9:00
the next day, but Mark and I were happy. Even if our plan was now show
up at the mosque at 9:00 and see what happens, we at least had a plan.

To be continued...

Christmas 2010 = Awesome

2010-12-27T00:24:00.000-08:00

Three Christmases away from home are a lot, especially when they are in Kazakhstan. The Christmas season just doesn’t exist here. I’ve blogged about it before, how New Year’s is kinda like Christmas but without a lot of the same message. Superficially, they look alike, but there are a lot of differences. Basically, if you want to feel like its Christmas here, you have to create it yourself, and that’s what we managed to do this year.

I won’t write a lot about everything that we did, but here are the key points for why this Christmas was probably my best one in Kazakhstan.

1. Christmas party at Zhambyl Zhastary

I had a party at my organization that went really well. Mark played Santa and we played a lot of Christmas games. Before I was told to make Christmas games in November, and I couldn’t think of any. But this time, I had found some online and thought of some myself. (Fun Christmas games: Draw things blindfolded, orchestra of Jingle Bells Animals, Find Santa (Frog killer but Christmas themed)).

2. Midnight Mass

Mass was less crowded this year, and there was no choir. However, Laura, Annie, Mark, Asela, and I still enjoyed it. Annie and Laura are Kazakh speakers which means they understood nothing. However, they swore heard “Nazerbayev” about ten times during the homily. Mark and I did not hear this, and Asela confirmed the Leader of the People was not mentioned. We are still wondering what Russian phrase they kept hearing.

3. Christmas Breakfast

Banana Pancakes at Mark’s house.

4. Post Office and the first Christmas miracle

One advantage (the only?) of Christmas in Kazakhstan is that you can still receive any last minute packages. After waiting for only 45 minutes (there were four people in front of me, average time helping customer = 11 minutes), I finally got my package. AND the Christmas miracle was that they let me get Erin’s as well. Previously, the post office never gave us the package of our fellow volunteers, but this time all I had to do was call and get her passport information.

5. Bazaar in a Santa hat and our second Christmas miracle

Being busy all week, we hadn’t had time to do shopping for the holidays, so we had to go to the bazaar on Saturday. Since it was Christmas though, I decided to wear my Santa hat all day long – even walking around the bazaar. I got a lot of “Hey Ded Moroz” calls, but some people realized that I was actually trying to be Santa Claus. One woman in the pig section even gave me a free slice of pork as a gift on the holiday. Oh, and in the pig section Laura managed to do the impossible. Earlier in the day, she had announced that she would find bacon. It can’t be done, I told her. I looked, and there’s no bacon. But with her persistence and positive attitude we found bacon in the Taraz bazaar. And not even a random package of frozen bacon from Omsk. Actual freshly made from butchered pig meat in Taraz bacon. BACON!!!!!! Year 3 just became a billion times better.

6. Christmas dinner

Mac and Cheese
Fun Dolphins (The name in French sounds like this, they are really fried mashed potato balls)
Glazed carrots
Roasted Chicken (too stringy, will be bringing back my old meat thermometer in March)
Mashed Potatoes
Gravy
Crab and apple salad
Curried Egg Salad
Yule Log (I will post pictures of this amazing cake made by my French guests. It is unbelievable.)
Sugar cookies

7. Christmas crafts!

I was somewhat joking when I told Jessica that she should bring the Christmas crafts, but I knew from Xmas in Karaganda how much fun crafts can make Christmas. Jessica delivered and we: made reindeer with our handprints, crafted ornaments out of homemade clay, decorated our own individual stockings, decorate holiday-shaped cookies with colored frosting, and cut out snowflakes. We even baked wall pieces for the gingerbread yurt, but we never got around to making it. (In America, Brad made one though. Picture to be posted later.)

8. Christmas movies watched mostly on Saturday and Sunday

Nightmare before Christmas (**** - haven’t seen it since I was a kid, amazingly creative)
We’re No Angels (***** - everyone should see this holiday classic with Bogart)
Home Alone 1 (**** - amazing how well this stands up to time but could never be made today because of cell phones)
Home Alone 2 (** - good, but less Christmas spirit then the original by a lot)
Glee Christmas Episode (3 times because Mark kept missing the end) (*** - some great lines from Britney)
Office Christmas Episode (*** - what a great final scene in the parking lot)
30 Rock Christmas Episode (***** - I laughed out loud at least three times)
Love Actually (**** - possibly Asela’s new favorite movie)
A Christmas Story (**** - reminded me a lot of Kazakhstan)
Red Sleigh Down (**** - after singing the 12 days of Christmas a billion times this year in my English clubs, I can appreciate the running gag in this episode so much more)
Rudolph (**** - I love that, at least on some level, America celebrates the differences of people)
A Muppet Christmas (in French with English subtitles) (**** - watching movies in French is amusing)

9. Christmas Morning Two

Banana pudding (with homemade vanilla wafers from Jessica)
Bacon (!!!!!!!)
Pancakes (made by Erin)
Hashbrowns cooked in bacon fat

10. Gift exchange and stockings

As per Zhamballa tradition, everyone got a stocking and Santa filled them during the night. He brought us toilet paper, candy, pencils, curt, chap stick, and fruit. In our annual White elephant gift exchange, people received: Brown Sugar, knife sharpener, head scarf, Trivial pursuit baseball edition (could there be a more worthless game in Kazakhstan), a donated smock, candy, and the Oblast gift (consisting of a Chinese new year plastic thing, a framed picture of a random Kazakh man found buried in my old apartment, and a dog puzzle.) This year, the oblast gift was almost lost when one of my French guests grabbed it. However, Annie took one for the team and stole it when it was her turn.

11. Caroling

I challenged people in our region to write Christmas carols, and they came up with some great ones. I’ll post them later this week because this post is already getting way too long.

12. Web cam

Finally, a Christmas where my parents understand Skype. It was great seeing them on the holiday rather than just talking to them on the phone.

Christmas

2010-12-24T19:13:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas, everyone! I heard that there's this new program
called Skype and you can call internationally for not that expensive.
Crazy what's available in 2010. If you want to give it a spin, you can
try calling me for the holiday at 87057974646. (Hint hint)

My city in the news

2010-12-22T21:17:00.001-08:00

And another news story about KZ; this one is about the oblast and city
I live in.

Zhambyl Oblast takes steps to combat extremism
(http://centralasiaonline.com/cocoon/caii/xhtml/en_GB/features/caii/features/main/2010/11/24/feature-01)
I didn't know that this was a problem in the area, but it's
interesting to see the steps the government is taking. Also, I'm
impressed with the article. A lot of articles here are short and
confusing, but that one is very well developed.

Kazakhstan in the news

2010-12-22T11:45:00.001-08:00

So here are some random news stories about Kstan that people without
Kazakhstan as a section on their Google News page may have missed...

Science
"While studying the ancient microcontinents that make up the geography
of central Kazakhstan in Asia, geological sciences professor Joe Meert
and colleagues uncovered evidence that multi-cellular organisms may
have evolved 100 million years earlier than previously thought, well
before the Cambrian Era..."
http://www.physorg.com/news/2010-12-discovery-rekindles-debate-multi-cellular-life.html

Sports
"Raised on a farm in Kazakhstan and a beach-town suburb of Sydney,
Bose is doing his best these days to bring recognition to a program
based in tiny Thibodaux, La. Featuring a diversity in his game rather
befitting an international man of mystery, the 6-foot-6 senior
swingman ranks third in the nation in scoring, averaging 25 points per
game, and accounts for nearly 37 percent of the team's points..."
http://sports.espn.go.com/ncb/news/story?id=5942119

Culture and life
A BBC reporter interviews three people about life in Kazakhstan.
Regular people with interesting stories. Gives a good view of the
diverse people that live here.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/programmes/2010/12/101220_outlook_kazakhstan_lives_audio.shtml?bw=nb&mp=wm&news=1&ms3=6&ms_javascript=false&bbcws=2

Independence Day!

2010-12-18T09:59:00.001-08:00

December 16 was Kazakhstan Independence Day. Kazakhstan got its
independence in 1991 when the Soviet Union collapsed. However, a lot
of people I talk to associate this week's holidays with the Zheltoksan
riots from December 1986. These riots occurred when Moscow removed the
Kazakh leader Konaev and replaced him with a guy from Russia. The next
day students took to the street on December 17, 1986. Hundreds?
Thousands? Police responded. The exact details are still unknown and
kept hidden.

This is interesting to me, because I don't see the two events as
directly related. Although the riots have been referred to the
beginning of the end, wouldn't the USSR have collapsed without
students rioting in 1986? Was this really a call for national
independence? If the USSR had collapsed in October instead of
December, would people still cite 1986 as the beginning of Kazakh
independence? Do Kazakhs view these events differently than other
nationalities here? I have mainly spoken with people my age about them
(people I know), but they would have been one years old at the time.
I'd really like to know more about how people who were students at the
time and older view the events, and if young people view them in the
same ways.

You can read more about the events on Wikipedia:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeltoqsan

Arm Wrestling

2010-12-13T10:07:00.001-08:00

I remember when my director (then counterpart) first told me that her husband was a professional sports trainer. What sport, I asked. Football (soccer for Americans)? Volleyball? No, she replied, arm wrestling. What?! That's a sport? And there are trainers for it?

Yes, I was ignorant of the sport of arm wrestling. I had seen it on TV while flipping past ESPN a few times, but I never really thought of it as a sport. However, Natasha's husband is a trainer, and he's a pretty good one at that. (He used to compete, and he looks it, but he mostly sticks to training others now.)

This past week he was in America for the World Armwrestling Championships USA (http://www.2010usaworlds.com/agenda.html) in Mesquite, Nevada. Three (or four? I forget exactly) of the athletes he trained were going to compete. After a quick Google News search, I found a couple interesting articles about the event.

This one from a local paper describes the fascination some Russian athletes had with local Salvation Army Santas. I can imagine their interest because while I have seen lots of strange things in Kazakhstan, I haven't seen a Ded Moroz standing outside ringing a bell and people walking up and giving him/her money. Really, if it wasn't ingrained in your culture, wouldn't you think that was strange?: http://www.thespectrum.com/article/20101210/DVTONLINE01/101209018

The next one is from the WSJ, and it covers the controversy and politics associated with on the top levels of the sport. One quote featured in the story: "You want to get the best grip possible. A lot of these guys don't use chalk so their hands can get kind of sweaty and slippery." Another quote: ""We train with the guys. The stronger the competition, the better."
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704457604576011644283275696.html

And how did my director's husband do? Well apparently, he's a pretty good trainer. One of the girls he trains got first in the youth category for 50 kilo left and 50 kilo right. She then entered the women's category and won the 50 kilo right. His brother, who he used to train, won the 100 kilo men's right category. Full results can be found at:
http://www.worldarmwrestlingfederation.com/2010Day_1.pdf
http://www.worldarmwrestlingfederation.com/2010Day_2.pdf
http://www.worldarmwrestlingfederation.com/2010Day_3.pdf
http://www.worldarmwrestlingfederation.com/2010Day_4.pdf

Friend's Blog

2010-12-10T21:05:00.001-08:00

So my friend Becca's blog was recently featured on Soros's blog for her description of ZhasCamp. I was there too (way back in October, has it already been two months?). Her blog's a pretty good description of the conference and the exciting things some youth are doing here in the KZ. Check out the video on the page too to see highlights from her org's awesome summer camp last year.

http://blog.soros.org/2010/12/think-informally-act-efficiently-youth-activists-gather-in-kazakhstan/

No shame in big dancing

2010-12-08T05:12:00.001-08:00

I don't know a lot about Kazakhstani politics, but this whole wikileaks thing has got me a little more interested. Overall, the cables from Kazakhstan don't reveal much. One of the most shocking revelations is that the Prime Minister..... enjoys dancing! Imagine that. A person from Kazakhstan loves to get down and boogie. Dancing is the best part about Kazakhstan culture. They dance all the time! And there's no grinding like in America. Its fun dancing with any dancing accepted. There's no mocking the bad dancer in Kazakhstan, because there are no bad dancers. I really think the biggest culture shock is going to be me being laughed at when I bust a move at Brad and Karen's wedding next March.

Anyway, this is what the cables revealed about the Prime Minister:

Prime Minister Karim Masimov was tripping the light fantastic in Astana, according to the cable, which detailed a night out at trendy Chocolat nightclub.

"Although the club offers a VIP area, Masimov chose to sit at a table in full view of all of the club's patrons," the cable said, citing a US embassy official who spotted the entourage.

"Masimov himself chose to dance on an empty stage above the dance floor. His companions quickly tired but Masimov remained, dancing alone and animatedly on the stage for another 15-20 minutes."

That sounds awesome! This guy who isn't afraid to dance alone. Dancing alone is reserved only for the best "big dancers" (a category I assign people who do just that. Dance big). Whenever I see someone out on the dance floor still dancing after being abandoned by all their friends, I tip my hat to them. That takes guts and a true love of the dance.

Apparently, Masimov wasn't upset by this revelation. He later told the media, ''I like it very much,'' Mr Masimov said on Wednesday. ''First I am on the internet with my wife. I like dancing with my wife and to advertise in the traditional way, I have to pay a lot of money for that. But this time it's free. And I am very happy for that.''

This guy has quickly become my favorite Kazkahstan politician for three main reasons:

1) Big dancer and proud of it.
2) His nickname is the "the wily Uighur" among expat businessmen, which means he must eat delicious food. Uighurs are an ethnic group from West China, and they make some of the best food in Kazakhstan. If you are ever in Kazakhstan for just one meal, and you want something delicious, then go to a Uighur (or Dungan, which is an ethnic group similar to Uighurs) cafe.
3. He has an awesome mustache. Click the link above under point 2 and see how awesome his mustache looks.

So for all the mustached, big-dancers of the world who enjoy eating great food (which depending on my shaving habits I can sometimes be included in this group), I think we have found a potential spokesman.

PC Kaz 20 Volunteer Survey

2010-12-06T21:14:00.000-08:00

This survey asked the Kaz20 group about their experience in Kazakhstan. 29 people responded out of 36 or so. It was conducted about 6 weeks before most volunteers left the country, so it does not capture that period of time. Also, this is not statistically accurate because it did not capture the whole population and it was not done randomly. However, we can find out some interesting things. All questions were self-interpreted.

Weddings
Most attended between 1 and 2 weddings.
9 volunteers never attended a wedding
One volunteer attended 5 weddings.

Dogs
5 volunteers were bitten by dogs (17%)

Books
1752 books were read
an average of 62 books per person.
Minimum books read was 2;
the maximum books read were 400.

Movies
4009 movies were watched. This is about 1.5 movies per week.
Someone claims to have watched 800 movies – almost a movie a day.
Someone reports having seen only 1 movie.

Sim cards:
14 volunteers bought only one Sim card in KZ
9 bought two sim cards
One volunteer bought 6 sim cards

Banya
The average number of volunteers banyaed with was 12.
The maximum was 51.

American money
10 people spent no American money.
One person reports spending $3000.

Weddings in America:
On average, people missed between 2 and 3 weddings in America.

Cell phones:
13 volunteers bought more than one cell phone in Kazakhstan

TV Series
One average, volunteers watched 5 complete TV series

Hard drive space
In total 10882 gigabytes of hard drive space was filled.
The average hard drive filled was 418 gigabytes.

Money saved:
15 volunteers indicated saving no money in Kazakhstan.
The maximum saved was over $2000.
The average saved was about $200.

Weight loss:
On average, volunteers lost -5 pounds with the most remarkable weight loss being -40 pounds.

Amount of volunteers who had the following amenities in their homes:
Internet: 51%
Washing machine: 46%
Bed: 96.5%
Shower: 62%
TV: 65%
HF: 34%
Garden: 27%
Water: 76%
Toilet: 79%
Banya: 28%
Cable: 38%
Roomie: 3%

Beer
9 volunteers prefer Shymkent.
2 like Karaganda
2 like Fresh Cup Karaganda
1 likes Fresh cup karaganda soft.
Someone actually said Alma-Ata was the best beer.

Juice
17 volunteers prefer Juicy

Juice Flavor
Cherry is the favorite with 8 votes.
Guava and Multivitamin are second with 4 votes.

Leave days
Average leave days remaining was 11.
Max was 35;
Minimum -1.

Home
41% of volunteers had gone to America

Flown in KZ
34% of volunteers had flown in KZ.

Grants
31% of volunteers report doing a SPA grant.
31% report doing a PCPP.
0% report a PEPFAR grant.

VESTI
44% wrote something for the Vesti.

Blog
50% kept a blog.

ETing
48% considered seriously ETing

Tutoring
Over half the volunteers did not spend money on tutoring.
The average amount was 1854 per month.
5 volunteers spent the maximum monthly amount.

Fights
8 volunteers report getting in fights

Arrested
One volunteer was arrested

Floods:
10 volunteers report flooding their apartments
2 volunteers report flooding them twice.

Things dropped down the outhouse include:
200 tenge, glasses, flash drive, poop, pee, tp, and a phone

Banya
19 volunteers say banya is awesome
7 say so-so
3 do not like it.

Alcohol contracts
No one is on an alcohol contract.

Reprimands
4 people have reprimands

December 1: Winter, AIDS, and OSCE!

2010-12-01T01:20:00.001-08:00

Congratulations on the first day of Winter! While we are all taught that the start and close of the seasons fall on the equinoxes and solstices, Kazakhstan (and I am assuming all of the former Soviet Union) mark their seasons on the first of the month. So spring starts March 1, summer on June 1, fall on September 1, and winter on December 1. Also, people sometimes wish each other Happy First Day of Winter, or Happy First Day of Spring, but the way Russian works, they don't say "Happy ______," they say congratulations. So you often get congratulated for the new year or for having a birthday or for the start of a season you thought was still 22 days away. So for everyone out there, "Congratulations on the first day of winter!"

December 1 is also World AIDS Day, translated into Russian as World Fight Against AIDS Day and into Kazakh as lots of words I still don't know how to read. This difference in translation may be to prevent any confusion from people who thought the day was celebrating the disease and not efforts to eradicate it. Although the population of K-stan only has a small number of infected people (15,000ish by reported numbers), some characteristics of the population (heroine use, infidelity in marriage, high use of prostitutes) make it at-risk for a larger outbreak.

Finally, December 1 marks the beginning of the OSCE summit. For those of you not in Kazakhstan, this is an extremely big deal. While a lot of news coverage was devoted to things like the G20 summit or the NATO summit held over the last few months, this is the really important summit. I doubt that those other two summits had billboards all over the country dedicated to it, had a child named after it, had its very own TV channel, and shut down half a city. For those of you who may have never heard of the OSCE: "The Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) is the world's largest security-oriented intergovernmental organization. Its mandate includes issues such as arms control, human rights, freedom of the press and fair elections. Most of its 3,500-plus staff are engaged in field operations, with only around 10% in its headquarters." For Kazakhstan to hold the chairmanship the past year is a really great honor because it shows it as a leader in Central Asia. I'd post some pictures of all the billboards advertising the summit, but I don't know how to upload pictures with access to Blogspot still being restricted in Kazakhstan.

Zhamballaz Thanksgiving Feast 2010: Food, Friends, and More Food

2010-11-29T20:47:00.001-08:00

Wow, how things have changed over the past two years.

I remember my first Thanksgiving in Kazakhstan. It was a rough, lonely day. I printed off small cards and gave them to all of my co-workers in an attempt to celebrate the holiday. That night I went home and timidly asked my host mom if I could make mashed potatoes. When they were all mashed, I remembered I needed to add butter. However, we had no butter, so my host mom threw in a large chunk of lard, and the mashed potatoes then tasted like everything else I had in Kazakhstan.

That weekend was much better. It was the first time I met my future friends of Dave, Susannah, and Matt. It was also the world premiere of the Hotard casserole. And at the insistence of locals that we must play some sort of game, we devised Bear, Pilgrim, Indian, a variant of Rock, Paper, Scissors, although you must perform your character. The next day, Susannah rushed off to comfort her then-boyfriend in North Kazakhstan and we were left alone to wander the mysterious city of Taraz.

Two years later, and most of the mystery, confusion, and wonder are now removed from celebrating this holiday in Kazakhstan. I just get pumped that we are going to pig out on kilos and kilos (oops, pounds and pounds) of delicious homemade food.

For Thanksgiving Day itself, I got to teach one of the preschool English classes my organization runs with sponsorship from the US Embassy. We made cut out turkeys, played Thanksgiving memory game, and even made Pilgrim and Indian hats. When I wore my pilgrim hat home, I was stopped by the police, but that wasn't really a surprise. I did look pretty ridiculous in it. They looked at my documents for a few minutes before finally getting to the larger issue: Why are you wearing a paper hat? It's a holiday in America, I told them. This is the hat we wear. Their attitude warmed up immediately, and they even wished me a happy holiday!

Of course, Thanksgiving in Taraz always falls on a Saturday rather than a Thursday, so the whole oblast can come and celebrate. Before the big day, Mark was able to secure two turkeys, although he did this way too easily. Two years ago, Dave had to kill the turkey. Last year, Jenny had to find one using her local network of friends and colleagues. This time Mark bought the birds frozen at a local super market. (He did have to go to two supermarkets to find them though, so life is a little harder here than in America.)

After a bazaar run to get all of the needed ingredients, the cooking commenced. We worked from 1PM until 7PM. And our spread this year included:

Turkeys (2)

Stuffing

Cheesy mashed potatoes

Gravy

Mac and Cheese

Potato salad

Glazed carrots

Sweet potato casserole

Corn pudding with a chocolate waffle crust

Roulette

Corn Bread

Rolls

Apple pie

Walnut Pie

Stuffed apples

Everything was absolutely delicious and wonderful. Noticeably missing is the annual Hotard casserole, but I did prepare the sweet potato casserole and corn pudding with chocolate waffle crust in its place. We invited some locals, but only about 7 people came. The total number of eaters was 14, but we had planned for 20. Asela was pushing hard for a game, but we didn't bring back Pilgrims, Indian, Bear. Instead we let her play the traditional "Wishbone" game with Chris. Food, friends, and more food. I can't imagine a better holiday here.

The Wonders of Skype

2010-11-25T21:27:00.001-08:00

For two years, my family never learned how to use Skype. I had barely used it myself. But my parents finally invested in a web cam and, more importantly, in learning how to use the service. Last night, it really paid off. I was able to sit at my computer more that 6000 miles away (it was a question my mom had last night) and talk with my whole family.

I was on the computer in the dining room and everyone was sitting around the table. They weren't really talking with me. We were talking as a family. There were the usual heated discussions that of course didn't get anywhere. There were side conversations between family members. Half the time I was just sitting and listening. Unfortunately, my internet speeed was so slow (why are holidays at the end of the month after I use up all my allotted bandwith?) that I just saw blurry blobs moving around a screen, but I could identify everyone.

This is the third Thanksgiving I wasn't home for. And I still won't make it back in time for next year's. But it felt a lot more like Thanksgiving this year than all the other years. This year, I am thankful for Skype.

Taraz in the New York Times

2010-11-23T21:34:00.001-08:00

Today on my Google News feed, I saw that Taraz (the city I lived in) is talked about in the NYT. The story is about an American couple trying to adopt a baby from Kazakhstan. I think I had met them many many months ago at an Internet cafe, but I never stayed in touch. You can read about their story below.

New York Times story

Taraz doesn't get much description, but it is described as, "Taraz, a city on the old Silk Road where English is rarely heard and boiled horse meat is typical fare." Yeah, that's pretty much accurate.

Public Face

2010-11-16T22:55:00.001-08:00

Sometimes, I really really want to write a blog to vent about something, but I can't. This is one of those days. ERRRR!!!! ARRR!!!!

Pictures on Picasa

2010-11-15T07:37:00.001-08:00

So apparently, the photos from yesterday didn't load. Here is a link to a Picasa album with the photos, plus some more photos from the last few months.

Michael's photos

Volunteer Camp

2010-11-14T22:57:00.001-08:00

I just got back from volunteer camp that was the launch of the National Volunteer Network in Kazakhstan, as well as a year long campaign to promote the network called World of Kindness. Overall, the conference was really well run and the session were very informative. However, I left with a sense of not understanding what it was for. Was it to just talk about volunteerism? Was it to get us excited about launching the network? I don't know. But the people were great and the trainings were well-done.

Whenever I go to these training/seminars/camps (I don't know why a two-day meeting a hotel is called a camp rather than a conference, but that's the term they use now), I like to note new ideas I encounter. I've been to a lot already, especially being involved with student leadership stuff at UGA, so most things I've done before in some way, shape, or form. When there is something new, it really stands out.

First activity: Paint mixing. The first day they brought us all in a room and put us each around a table. The group standing around the table popped a balloon that had a word inside. Then the trainers gave each of us a plate with water in it and put a set of paint on the table in front of us. We had to mix the paint inside the plate to form our special color. Then they gave us flour to mix in with the paint. Then glue. Then oil. Each was supposed to symbolize something, but that was in Russian and I didn't understand. Then they told us to remember the word we had, and we had to finger paint it on the board. Finally, other teams had to guess what word we had. My personal favorite part about this game is that two guys on my team (because they were older Kazahk males, and therefore dressed nicely for this type of conference) were in nice suits. However, they attacked the task with as much energy as everyone and managed not to get any paint on their suits. Interesting ideas from this were: the different ingredients symbolizing different things, popping a balloon to find out the club, and guessing rather than just explaining our paintings. All of these were unneeded in the overall activity, but they made it more interesting.

Second activity: secret angel. This was super easy to do, and it was a lot of fun. Everyone at the conference drew someone's name out of a hat. They were then this person's secret friend for two days. They were supposed to write nice notes, give creative gifts, and just make sure this person is cared for (some word in Russian that doesn't translate well is used to describe this succinctly). This is done secretly, so gifts should be given through third-party messengers, notes posted when people aren't looking, etc. At the end of the conference, people reveal themselves to their secret friend. I got a few nice notes and candy that were fun, and I gave away fruit and tea that I had left over from my train journey. A great success story was from one woman who said she had a very frugal husband that didn't believe in giving lots of gifts. But her enthusiastic angel had given her TEN gifts over two days. She said she's take them all home and show her husband her many gifts from a perfect stranger.

Third activity: closing wishes with string. Maybe, I had done this before, but I don't remember exactly. Anyway, at the end of the conference, we were each given a yarn necklace with twenty short (maybe three inch) yarn pieces loosely tied to it. We then had to take off these pieces and tie them to other people's necklaces. When we gave them away, we also had to tell that person something nice about them from the weekend or wish them something well. Then you are left with lots of nice things said about you, and a physical yarn necklace symbolizing all of the wishes. It's a really effective way to close out a conference/camp/training.

Balloon towers. A fun game that I led with Hilary.

One of the guys on my group that had painted in his suit. This is at the end of the conference with with wish necklace.

I was given a homemade card from an orphanage. It was a great honor and really sparkly. I loved it.

New Phone Number

2010-11-08T18:57:00.001-08:00

I have a new phone number. My new number is 8 705 797 4646. This is an unofficial Beeline number (meaning that they don't sell it at Beeline stores, but it is a beeline number.) I pay 35 tenge a day (20 cents), and I can talk for 35 minutes a day. However, if I talk more than 35 minutes or if I call from not in Zhambyl Olbast, I think its about 35 tenge a minute. I'll keep my old sim card to use when I travel outside of Zhambyl Olbast though. And I still have a Pathword phone and an ACTIV sim card that gets used when I call Activ. Two years ago, I started with just one number and now I'm so cool I have four. Really, its just a way to deal with the expensive cell rates they have in Kazakhstan for talk time. With this new number, I should cut down immensely on my monthly cell phone costs.

So yeah, 8 705 797 4646. Call if you ever want to talk and catch up and say something like, Hey Michael, its been 2 years and three months, how's it going?

Halloween

2010-11-06T09:07:00.001-07:00

I really liked the post that fellow volunteers Paul and Susan had about their Halloween party up in Pavlador (http://susanandpaulkz.blogspot.com/2010/11/first-year-as-peace-corps-volunteers.html). So much, that I was inspired to tell about our festivities here. First, let me just summarize the month of October. The last few weeks have been pretty busy. October 9 and 10 I was in Almaty for Zhascamp (www.zhascamp.kz). The next weekend was FLEX testing in Taraz. Then the next weekend Mark and I went to Zhanatas. Then the next week was Halloween and a trip to Almaty to say goodbye to the Kaz20s. This weekend was a picnic (today) and the new volunteers come tonight (volunteer for Taraz). So I haven't had much time to just sit around and relax. Every weekend has been fun, but fun in a gulyating kind of way and not in a otdihating kind of way.

So back to Halloween. Like always, my org does a Halloween party for our students and volunteers. This year, we had our party on the 30^th (Saturday night), not because of religious reasons (apparently they did that in Georgia) but just because it was convienient. I once again dressed as a cow (8 years running; thanks Brad! When should I retire the costume.) Mark (site-mate) was a mummy made better by a bronzing spray his girlfriend made. We had scary masks, Indian saris, and ghosts, but nothing way spectacular with the costumes. And of course, we had games. Because like every party here, you can't have a party with no games. Strange question one for the night was, when is the party going to get started, after the party had already started. See it was 6:45, the food was laid out, the music was going, people were around. Looks to me like the party is going, but because the program of games hadn't started yet, there was no party. (Second strange question of the night was repeatedly asked me by one of the students. What's next, he would say? Can we scare people? My response was, what do you mean, scare people? You can scare people whenever you want. How do we coordinate a group scaring of people. Although maybe he meant go outside and walk around the town scaring people, which people did later.)

Games we played included: pin the amulet on the witch, toss ping pong ball into jack-o-lanterns, mummy wrap, and apple bobbing.

The party lasted about two hours or so, and then we all went home. I walked home in my cow costume. And by chance, it happened to be Day of the City. And by chance, Taraz decided to go all out and celebrate it this year. (Last year, I know there was a city day, but I don't think anyone cared.) So the square was full of people! More than I've ever seen in Taraz on a Saturday night just walking around. And I was in my cow costume. And it felt great. I loved doing stupid things for attention in America (e.g. Mulhawk Spring 2008), but I feel so restricted by the Peace Corps 24/7 Face of America standard here. However, it was Halloween, dang it. And it was fine. Some laughs and stares, but surprising not even a stop by local police. I think some people realized it was Halloween weekend; some may have thought I was just a guy in a costume dressed up to take photos with, and others… I don't know what they must have thought of me.

On actual Halloween, I was invited to another Halloween party. I didn't really want to go (I finally wanted a day of just resting), but I decided to give a shot. It was actually a lot of fun. Mostly just a daytime disco at a local café, and once again the costumes were disappointing. Most of the students there said they couldn't find one (well, you should just make one then). In the end, I was glad that I went.

Miss Iron Chef

2010-11-04T21:49:00.001-07:00

So a couple months ago, my friend's director was in the Mrs.
Kazakhstan pageant
(http://mrskazakhstan.kz/?q=content/[vocab-raw]/missis-taraz). Jessica
told me that at the Taraz competition, the women had to make salads on
stage. I thought that was a novel and interesting idea for a beauty
pageant. Since it was Mrs. Kazakhstan, and wives are expected to do
all the cooking, it was very culturally appropriate.

However, now there is another beauty pageant coming up called «Мисс
Драгоценность Тараза». That translates to Miss Jewel of Taraz. I don't
know the word for Jewel, so the first time I started to read it, I saw
Miss Drag(something) and was initially confused, knowing that
competition would never happen in Taraz. Anyway, on the web site for
Miss Jewel, the rules of the competition say contestants will have
three tasks:
1) The best story about yourself.
2) Best dish made with her own hands.
3) Best outfit.

Again with the cooking! Will they make cold salads? Will they each
have a skillet to work with, or even elusive access to an oven?
Overall, I don't like beauty pageants that much, but I am a fan of
Iron Chef, and I like the idea of beauty pageants moving more in that
direction.

What a Spektackle!

2010-10-18T20:47:00.001-07:00

I walk by the theater twice a day every Monday through Friday. I've lived in three apartments now, and my path to work from each one of them passes by the huge structure. It's smack in the middle of town across the street from our square. And I often see the banners hanging outside advertising the plays, but like most things that are constant like that, I never went. I imagine that millions of New Yorkers have never been to the Statue of Liberty following the same logic. What's the rush? There will be more time to do that later. (I have been in the theater itself – four times already. Twice for performing in KVN, once for a NGO forum, and once for the ballet. But I had never been to a drama performance there.)

So about a month ago (wow, I haven't updated in a long time), I saw a banner that was different than the usual one hanging outside the theater. 10^th Annual Kazakhstan Drama Festival. Taraz. September 15-22. On it was written a schedule with plays being held twice a day. Most of it was written in Kazakh, so I asked two guys standing around to translate it for me. They said there would be a play in the morning every day at 10am, and one in the afternoon at 7pm. Groups from all over Kazakhstan would come here to perform. Where do I get tickets, I asked. No tickets. Free for everyone. Free plays! I'm in. I called Asela and asked if she was free at 7pm. We were going to the theater.

Now when I asked those guys to translate the banner, I swear they said that it was a kid's play that evening. So I went in expecting a puppet show or something. What we got was a love story set in Germany during World War II. In Kazakh. I loved it. The play opened to a scene of a squad of Kazakh soldiers who just heard the news that the war was over. There was laughing, joking, and pranking among their happy ranks. Then they dispersed and one soldier was left wandering. He stumbles upon a young woman and when he saves her life from some artillery fire (I guess the war wasn't quite over), they fall in love. Then Asela leans over and tells me she's German! Crucial plot point that would have been missed without some translating help.

The play (or as its called in Russian, spektackle) then shows the guy's commander back in headquarters wondering why this usually good soldier went AWOL. He is determined to find him and punish him for his subordinate behavior. Eventually, the squad does find him. And he is punished. For deserting his comrades and for associating with an enemy. The commander is sadistic and enjoys torturing him, asking him where they can find the girl's location. Eventually, the commander's commander shows up. Then the girl shows up. She pleas for her man, and the higher-up commander lets him go after she leaves.

He searches for her and finds her. But he tells her he must go back to Russia on the train. She begs him to stay, so he gives her his hat. She is left yelling "Peter, Peter!" (but in Russian, its like Pai-ter, Pai-ter), clutching his hat, as the stage goes dark.

And it was really well done. The young guy that played the AWOL guy did a great job, as did everyone else. The stage design terrific. The costumes were authentic looking. Most stuff in Kazakhstan is way-over-the-top glitz and dancing and tackiness. This was not that at all, and I was super impressed. And despite it all being in Kazakh, I understood most of the play. What was on the stage was pretty understandable.

I was hooked. And decided I had to go back later in the week to see the premiere of the Spektackle "Baurzhan Momushylu."

New Film from Kazakhstan

2010-10-04T22:42:00.001-07:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/05/world/europe/05kazakh.html?src=me&ref=world

I can't wait to see this, but I don't know. I am as skeptical as the writer of the article.

Cribs Kazakhstan or Lifestyles of the City Volunteer

2010-10-04T09:35:00.000-07:00

What to blog about…

The more time I spend in country, the harder and harder it is to think of bloggable things. Like this weekend, Mark, Jennie, and I were walking back from Frisbee and I saw this security guard standing on the porch of a jewelery store with a rifle slung over his shoulder. He overheard us speaking in English, and said hello and asked us to stop and talk with him. We told him that we didn't have the time, and we kept walking. Random people with weapons wanting to speak with you on Sunday mornings, sounds kinda strange, but really not a big deal.

I already blogged a little bit about this, but about two weeks ago I changed apartments. My old apartment was big and cheap and had pretty good amenities. However, I was tired of leaky showers and rocking toilets. I mean it's nice to have them (sorry village volunteers, but if you visit you can use mine), but I want them not to be a hassle when I use them. Finally, my previous landlady told me she wanted to increase my rent, so I decided to test the market. One of the women we know from ZhamZhas said she was moving to Almaty and wanted someone to rent her flat (apartment). I checked it out, and it was glorious. This place is Posh Corps if there ever was one. I have a washing machine, microwave, refrigerator, cable TV, a huge kitchen, tons of cool kitchen gadgets to try out, and even a mattress. I never realized that I have always been sleeping on futons or stacked up pads in this country. But finally, this is a real, comfortable mattress. It's amazing. (Come to think of it, I had been sleeping on futons in America for ten years or so, but aside from the one in Illinois, it was always a very comfortable futon.)

The only two things that could make it better would be a shower head that can be mounted to the wall. You have to hold it the whole time. (Wow, I sound so spoiled typing that sentence. Can I imagine myself in twenty years at a RPCV gathering? Yeah, I had to hold the faucet for my indoor heated shower the whole time. I couldn't even suds with two hands! Life was hard.) And an oven. For teacher's day, I wanted to bake something for my co-workers but I had no oven. (Instead I had to order pizza for delivery. That's something to blog about! The first time I've had pizzas delivered somewhere in over two years!)

Also, the new location is superb. It's about five minutes closer to my office, which will cut off 50 minutes a week from my walking time. And it passes by my favorite donor stand and cabbage peroshki lady. Plus, there is a giant super market across the street from my house.

I'm ready for my third year.

Coming soon: Blog about Kazakh theater

Things I've been doing

2010-09-27T09:23:00.001-07:00

Moving out of my old apartment and into my new place. No oven, but does have a washing machine. And a freezer that doesn't seem to turn into an actual block of ice. (I should have taken pictures of my last one.) Thanks to Mark, Courtney, and Asela for doing a lot of the heavy lifting for me.

Visits from new trainees. The new volunteers are coming on field trips to see what volunteer life is like. The first group was a lot of fun, but they got lost a couple times. This week, I have decided to give maps to the new group that comes.

Work. I have a to-do list of about thirty things every week. I have a lot of things to do from English planning to volunteer planning to conference planning to meetings. It's busy here, but I can't imagine life not being busy.

COS conference. All of the Kaz 20s who are left gathered in Almaty for one last conference. It was awesome. Thanks to everyone who was there and made it special. We even had a talent show that featured Madonna, butt-shaking Glee dancing, juggling, Lady Gaga, and impersonations. That talent show was at a cookout that was awesome, but could be improved for next year. (Improvements include: pickles, sliced onions, yellow mustard, and bbq sauce.) But Paul also brought over his N64, which enabled me to get my butt kicked in Golden Eye.

Other stuff. Frisbee starting back up. And playing one last game with Jason in Almaty. It was a great day with tons of hucks and running and games to 3 or 8 depending on how you look at it. Frisbee here was good on Sunday. Hoping to get it going regularly before the winter sets in.

Next blog will focus on my first trip to the theater to see a Spektackle!

Weekend

2010-09-11T10:41:00.001-07:00

Weekend – Normal and not

The last two days have been normal, strange, and normal for being strange. Life in the Peace Corps is definitely interesting in that it is very active and varied.

Friday started out with a strange amount of success. I showed up at work early to copy some audio files onto a student's flash card to find they had forgotten their memory stick. After that hiccup though, I went by a local university and picked up some forms they were supposed to fill out. In addition to the forms being ready, I had tea to celebrate Ait (end of Ramadan). Next I went by another university and met with a professor there, and she also filled out forms that I needed. Then I went to work and my 1:00 appointment was on time. I gave her a volunteer book for her college and she gave me the name of an acquaintance who can hang wall paper. Then my 3:00 appointment was on time. I spent about an hour assisting someone with their resume and teaching them that past work experience should include descriptions. (I will soon do a post her about resumes in Kazakhstan.) Finally, the girl came back to get the audio files with her flash drive. Rarely has a day ever gone that smoothly.

In the evening, Asela and I went on a double date with one of her friends and her new boyfriend. We ate at Bavarius which is a strangely American café. There you can find pitchers of beer, onion rings, garlic toast, and fried mozzarella sticks. It was a fun night.

Today I made a speech about Frisbee to about 1000 people at the stadium during a health festival. I then was able to briefly play on a grass field for about one minute to demonstrate the game. During this minute I successfully made a gratuitous layout catch and got grass stains on the UNICEF t-shirt my friend had just given me. Within five minutes ten locals immediately pointed out how I had gotten dirty. I thought that was the point.

The rest of the day was filled with me packing up my apartment, settling issues with a neighbor, and my landlady coming over unannounced to show off the apartment. That's right. I'm moving apartments. I decided to find a landlady who is nicer and will actually do repairs when things break. (Apparently, it's somehow my fault that the sink leaks water and the toilet now rocks when you sit on it. I have no idea why these things occurred, but my guess is the sink she got was cheap and the toilet is clearly installed on uneven tile.)

Finally, I went to a wedding of an old friend. It'd been a while (about a year) since my last wedding, so it was nice to go to one again.

Now I'm back at my apartment waiting to go to the train station so I can head to COS conference where it'll be awesome and sad. It'll probably be the last time I see a lot of my close friends who are going back to America. But that's not until Monday.

Now I'm just thinking about tomorrow when I'll get to play Frisbee in Almaty. It's been about a year since I played a competitive game with more than four people on a team. Here's hoping for sevens.

An epiphany

2010-09-06T21:45:00.001-07:00

A couple weeks ago, my organization went on a picnic to celebrate Constitution Day. It was a great day of relaxing, swimming, and delicious food. (Mark and I cooked with the help of a local guy Danyar. And although the stew I made wasn't supposed to be a stew, it was still pretty good.)

One thing that stands out is an exchange I had with a bus driver and consequently everyone at the picnic. We were all sitting down to eat a snack about 30 minutes after we first got there. The bus driver was napping in the bus, so one of my friends told me to invite him to eat with us.

I walked up to the bus and leaned inside. Then I said something to the equivalent of "Здрастуй! Мы перекусаем. Вы хотите кушать с нами?" Which translates, in my mind, to Hello! We are having a snack. Do you want to eat with us."

Immediately, I mean immediately everyone at the picnic made a groan of horror. Michael, how could you be so rude? How could you say such a thing? What, I asked. I just asked if he wanted to eat with us. Exactly, they said. You should never ask if someone wants to eat. They'll be shy and say no. Just invite him to eat with us.

So I tried again. "Мы приглашаем Вас кушать с нами." (We invite you to eat with us.) Again, the cries rang out. No, no, no. Confused and getting frustrated, I asked, then how am I supposed to tell him to eat with us. Just tell him, "Пойдем. кушайте! " (Let's go. Eat!)

Suddenly, two years in Kazakhstan made sense. Every gosti experience. Every host family experience. Every meal I've ever eaten with locals. By now, I've come to accept that being told to eat wasn't rude here. It's just what people do. Eat! Eat! We hear it from day one. But I never really that asking someone if they wanted to eat was rude. What in my mind equates to respecting someone's own desires and giving them the opportunity to choose and come eat was horribly offensive. I thought back on my two years and wondered how many times I may have offended someone by offering them that choice.

Two Years and the surprises keep coming

2010-08-23T08:40:00.001-07:00

Two Years!

I haven't been to America in two years. (I arrived in Kazakhstan 8/21/08). For the past 730 days, I have been in Kazakhstan for all about sixteen of them. Fifteen were spent in India and one was spent in Kyrgyzstan. It's been a long time. And it feels longer than I expected it would. Despite that, Kazakhstan is still full of surprises.

Example one: The other week I had some people from England visiting me. We were playing Frisbee with a local school and then the person who had organized the event invited all of us (four English guys, two PCVS, and Asela) back to her house for dinner. But the organizer was Kazakh, so big mass invites are not a big surprise. She calls home to find out that her family is actually at their grandmother's house. Slight change in plans, but we'll just go there for dinner. We hope they have enough to feed us.

After driving way outside of the center of the city, we find out that her family being at grandma's house meant ALL of her family. There were probably twenty to twenty-five guests already at the party. And there was plenty, plenty of beshbarmak for us. We sit down in the dining room and I'm just happy these English dudes are getting the gosting experience. They'd been in K-stan for two weeks already, but this is their first trip to someone's home. (Easy to get invites when you live here, but when traveling the big cities it can be difficult.)

This all is still pretty normal. Really, I mean there are seven people that a family barely knows eating at their house, but that's normal in Kazakhstan. These are hospitable people. Then one of the uncle starts talking about something. I don't understand and Asela is having trouble translating. Something about cutting. Oh, it's the circumcision talk again. It comes up sometimes, people talking about circumcision. Usually in the banya, but this still isn't out of the ordinay. Then the guy asks if we want to see what he's talking about. This isn't new either, but usually it's a joke.

He's not joking. All of a sudden, he lifts up a small boy, probably about two years old up on the table. The boy is only wearing a long t-shirt. The uncle lifts up the t-shirt and well there is an example of circumcision. From the telltale green antiseptic in the area, it seems like it is a fresh circumcision. The boy's smile is beaming as his uncle shows him off. Apparently this whole party was for him, some sort of Muslim version of a bris. I've been to many a gostings before, but that part was new. SURPRISE! (A friend later said that we should have given money to the kid as part of the tradition. If that ever happens again, I'll be ready.)

Example two: I was walking home the other day and I noticed a girl on the street had something in her hand that I hadn't seen before in Kazakhstan. It looked like a cup full of colored ice. It looked like a…. Then it hit me. The blini café. For the past two weeks, they'd had a sign out front with really blocky, pixilated pictures advertising a new "slosh". What's a slosh? (In my mind I associated it was cole slaw somehow, probably because it's written like "слаш" in Russian, which kinda looks like slaw if you read the c as a Russian s and the w as an English w instead of a "sh" sound.)

I went there to see for myself. Yes, there is was. Two nozzles attached to two spinning tanks. One purple. One yellow. Slushies! Slushies in Kazakhstan! SURPRISE. A country where most people are afraid of cold drink because it will give you a sore throat and ice is only seen in the winter usually on the ground. But here it was, in Taraz! Slushies! I immediately bought one.

Example three: Although, I'm getting tired of writing and want to eat dinner, so this will be short. We went to this café we though was Uzbek because it looked all fancy and stuff. Turns out its Moroccan, and they have couscous! Couscous in Kazakhstan. SURPRISE! It was so light and fluffy and awesome. Unfortunately, it was way too expensive, the rest of the food was awful, and the service was disappointing. But still, it's nice to know it's there if I ever really really want it.

Even after two years, this country is still full of things I'd never expect. And that's what makes me excited still heading into my third year. I may be experienced now, but the adventure is far from over.

Goals Two and Three

2010-08-18T09:07:00.001-07:00

I often pick my English Club topics strictly based on what I want to talk about. So this week, there's been something on my from all the news I've been reading. It seems to be a controversy the media can't stop talking about. And no, I wouldn't dream of talking about Prop. 8 with my club. It's whether the "mosque" should be built in Manhattan at a site in the area near the 9/11 attacks.

In general, I try to avoid the subject of 9/11 with the people in Kazakhstan. It doesn't mean as much to them, not like it does to us. It's hard to hear them talk about it. Although, maybe for that reason I should talk about it more than I do. Here there is a lot of misinformation about the attacks. Apparently, if you put something in documentary form it must be true, and much of the population saw a documentary about how Americans really planned the attacks. Or how Jewish people were the masterminds to make Muslims look bad. People say these things as if they believe them; I think they do believe them.

Today, I thought that's where we needed to start the conversation. What happened on 9/11? I first heard their accounts. Some said that America planned it. Most knew about the two buildings, but had forgotten the two others planes. I decided to fill them in. Terrorists hijacked planes and attacked America. It was an attack by Al-Quida. Al-Quida was based strongly out of Afghanistan, and that's why American invaded. (These facts are true right? I also brought up the fact that some Americans still think Iraq was related to 9/11 somehow. Americans (and everyone) distort and confuse their history.)

I then asked them to describe the terrorists. What adjectives would they use? Crazy. Radical. Male. Extreme. Angry. Suicidal. The list went on. And I couldn't help but think what Americans would have said? What would the first adjective out of most American mouths? Muslim. It wasn't in their top ten. It wasn't even on their minds.

There were about fifteen people in today's club. Fourteen of them were "Muslim," in that if you asked their religion, they would probably say that. Although I don't think any of them abide strictly by the Muslim tenants. I've only met a handful of people here that pray every day, keep the fast during Ramdan, refuse alcohol, etc. Most Muslims here are really like most religious people in the world, their stated beliefs do not always match up with their actions.

I told the club that in America, Americans would have said Muslim terrorists attacked on 9/11, and they immediately responded by saying that isn't Islam. That's not their faith. Those people distorted Islam. They are like any radical group, using faith to masquerade their hatred and extremism. It's what everyone in Kazakhstan has ever told me about the hijackers on 9/11. The terrorists say that they are Muslim, but they aren't.

The topic of the club then moved on to the current controversy. Should Muslims be able to build a mosque near Ground Zero? In America, this is causing an endless debate that is entangling politicians, religious leaders, and pundits on all levels. For them, there was no debate.

Why not?, they asked. Why shouldn't they be able to build a mosque there? It's not like the radical terrorists are building a mosque there? It's just regular Muslims. They didn't cause 9/11.

I countered that many victims of 9/11 feel that it's offensive to them. They once again were confused. Why would it be offensive, they asked. I told them I didn't understand myself.

Then one of my sitemates asked if this was really an issue in America (she doesn't have Internet regularly and therefore hasn't seen this in the news). How many Americans really feel this way, she asked. Over 60% I told her, a clear majority of Americans oppose a mosque being built there.

Really? she asked in shock and disappointment. She sighed a familiar sigh of partial disbelief and confusion. I am familiar with that sigh.

See, it's part of Peace Corps goals to talk about America. It's always quoted "Goal 2: Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served." And it's great when I get to talk about how great America is. Our roads are paved so smooth. We have tons of amazing music artists. Our food and beer selection is out of this world. But sometimes I'm faced with the hard trust about what America really is. It's not perfect. At times, it has problems. There are homeless. There is racism. There is intolerance. Anyone familiar with America, knows that it has its fair share of problems. But usually, I get to talk about the progress we're making. Here, in this situation, it seems like we're moving backwards.

Maybe it's because I've been in Kazakhstan for two years, where a majority of the populating is Muslim. Maybe it's because my first three months were spent with an amazingly welcoming and observant Muslim family and I kept Ramadan with them. Maybe it's because I'm dating a Muslim girl. Maybe because of all of that, I completely fail to see why anyone would be opposed to building a mosque there or anywhere. 60% of Americans have a viewpoint that I not only disagree with, but I cannot even begin to understand.

Islam isn't something to be scared of. It's just another religion, like any other one. Muslims aren't to blame for 9/11. Terrorists are. And having to read that our President made a mistake by speaking out on what is right and just is infuriating. I feel ashamed to share a better understanding of Americans.

But then again, maybe that's why there's a third goal to the Peace Corps. Goal 3: Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans. Sometimes, it's certainly needed.

Day time disco

2010-08-05T20:43:00.001-07:00

Some things in Kazakhstan don't make sense. Okay, a lot of things
don't make sense. BUT one thing they do more logically is pricing for
movie theaters. While most American theaters divide movies into
matinees and evenings, theaters here have a sliding scale. The very
first show may be 400 tenge and the evening shows are 1000. Mid-day
shows fall somewhere in between.

I can't speak for all Peace Corps volunteers, but when I decide to see
a movie (I've seen three in two years) I prefer that early morning
show. So that's how Ken, Berik, and I ended up at the Mega in Astana
at 9:30, before the mall even opened. The only store we could go to
was Ramstor. Everything else was cut off by some guards. Early morning
mall-walkers are prohibited in Kazakhstan. At 10am we rush up the
stairs to the fourth floor and check the time for Inception (in
Russian, Nachalo, which I translate to beginning. Is that what
Inception means? Honestly, I don't really know. When does anyone even
use that word?) 10:50! And the cost is 600 tenge. Blin! The price at
the new tent-mall (way disappointing) was 500. But we're here and we
buy three tickets next to each other. Another difference (possibly
improvement?) is selling specific seats in the movie theater, rather
than having general admission.

Berik is grateful because he has 50 minutes to run home and get the
glasses he forgot. Ken and I have 50 minutes to wander an empty mall.

We walk across the food court to this place called Babylon. Imagine a
stripped-down mall version of a Chuck-E-Cheeze without pizza or a mall
arcade on steroids. This place has bumper cars, laser tag, arcade
games, a 4-d theater, air hockey, DDR, etc. If you want to blow some
tenge, it's a good place to go. We weren't looking to spend any money
though and just wanted to check it out.

We walk in and see a strange site, even for Kazakhstan. There was a
circle of their employees (all Kazakh teenagers probably with summer
jobs) dancing in the middle of the arcade. I thought it was some
Target-like morning teambuilder. And it was strange to watch. Almost
embarrassing to watch. We started wandering the empty center and I
made my way to the ticket counter. I wanted to know how much
everything cost. The woman there said that bowling had been replaced
with roller skating, laser tag was 300 tenge for fifteen minutes, and
there was a morning discotheque every day if we wanted to join in.

Disco-teque! That wasn't a morning warm-up. That was a kid's disco!
What else were we supposed to do for fifty minutes? Ken and I
immediately decided to join in.

By this time, the circle of ten Kazakh teenagers had been joined by a
Russian father and his daughter, who was about four years old. A
skeptical mother sat out on the side, not having nearly as much fun as
enthusiastic father and daughter. The circle had two dance leaders who
were leading the scripted hand and dance motions for each song. Ken
and I joined in and quickly caught on with the choreography (it was
for children, after all). And honestly, there I was in my clothes that
hadn't been washed in a week, beard that hadn't been trimmed in two
weeks, and I don't think I've ever felt more self-conscious in my
life. I couldn't help but wonder what they thought of me and Ken, two
random strange-looking people speaking English with one another, who
just happened to be at the kid's disco at 10am on a Sunday morning.

Three songs in, my concerns were slightly abated when all of a sudden
the dancing circle broke down into a game of apparent tickle tag. Ken
and I had no idea what was going on when one of the Babylon employees
came running at us and got us each with a quick tickle attack. Next
the Russian father got us from behind. Nothing says acceptance like
voluntarily tickling of another person, and I felt a little more at
ease after that. The rest of the dances were fun if we had been small
children or if you were not a small child but had nothing else to do
or if you have a heart. We did conga lines, heart motions, brought the
circle in, brought the circle out, etc. And then the clock hit 10:30
and it all ended.

Kazakhstan has been full of strange experiences, but that was probably
one of the strangest.

(And yeah, we saw the movie at 10:50. It was good, and we understood
almost all of it in Russian. The next question is should I see The
Expendables at the movie theater because there's a lot of action and
explosions, or wait and see it on video because the voices won't be
dubbed over into Russian?)

My Week in a Yurt

2010-08-02T09:37:00.001-07:00

Last year for baseball camp, we all stayed at Dave's run-down, dirty apartment. This year the plan was for us to stay there again, even though Dave didn't live there. Jessica was supposed to move there before baseball camp, but certain things (like we live in Kazakhstan) interfered with that. So baseball camp was approaching and we had no where to stay. Jessica and I were exchanging some texts about the fate of the twelve people coming to camp, when I remembered something.

Me: Isn't there a yurt in your front yard?

J: Yes, and it has a TV.

Me: A TV with a yurt. Do you think we can watch the World Cup final in the yurt?

J: I'll ask.

And the housing problem was solved. We'd sleep in a yurt, use the bathroom at Aigul's apartment/a field near the yurt/behind Jessica's organization, cook in Dave's old place/Jessica's future place, and eat in the yurt. Or most people would. I commuted to the city most days. For work, not so I wouldn't have to sleep in the yurt. That part was awesome.

So Day One. It's Sunday night and there are about eight of us and we have a dilemma. It's the world cup final. I've already forgotten whom. Oh yeah, the Netherlands and Spain. The yurt does have a TV. It gets five channels really well. And three channels super fuzzy. The world cup is usually on Habar or EDA. Habar is clear; EDA is super fuzzy. If we stay and watch the game in the yurt we risk the chance of not seeing the game, if its only on EDA. However, if it's on Habar, we get to say we watched the 2010 World Cup Final in a yurt in Kazakhstan. That's an icebreaker at future cocktail parties. "Oh yes, do you remember that year Spain beat the Netherlands. I was serving in Peace Corps at the time and watched it live from a yurt."

We decided to go to Jessica's friends house for the first half and then walk home at half time if we can confirm that it is on Habar. Dilemma solved. We watch the first half at her friend's house, but they have satellite. Their broadcast is showing on Russia2. That channel is not in the yurt. I call other PCVs until I find out that yes, it is on Habar. Half time comes and we walk home. And almost get eaten by dogs, but luckily didn't. And we get to the yurt in the fiftieth minute.

Most of us manage to stay up until the end of the game, but to be honest, I think only Chris and maybe Jon were awake for the end. I woke up briefly when Spain scored the gamewinner, dozed back off, then woke up at the end. I remember Kyle wanted to know the score (for the people who read Kyle's blog as well, this is the guy that posted about the World Cup at the start of it with predictions and all. Then fell asleep during the US/England game and then missed out on the final to go to some party), and I was so tired I had to will myself to press each key, "Spain wins in extra time." The next day I had to check my phone because I wasn't sure if I had dreamt it or not.

But yurt living was sweet. The only problems were when it rained one night and we were too lazy to figure out how to put the top cover on. And they had taken the Nintendo Wii out of the yurt when we got there. (Yes, that sentence is correct.) But it was cool at night and we had plenty of floor pads and even two beds!

Chick-fil-a on a Sunday: Or thanks to the McCampbells

2010-07-29T13:54:00.001-07:00

The food. When people here ask you what you miss about America, they probably expect you to say your friends or your family. And don't get me wrong. Of course, I miss my friends and family. But man do I miss the food in America.

And one of those things that I miss is Chick-fil-a. I'm a Georgia-boy, born and raised. I remember getting nuggets meals at Oglethorpe Mall even as a small kid. Eventually, my love for the restaurant grew when I realized that I could get a free sandwich every time I donated blood. Helping potentially save a life and getting a coupon in return for a delicious lunch, I don't know what could be better. I even worked at a Chick-fil-a one summer and loved the free meal I got every day at work. My professional recommendation from eating four to five sandwiches a week is to try out their sauces: their buffalo sauce is surprisingly spicy.

So when Mark asked me if I wanted his parents to bring anything from America when they came this summer, the first thing I thought of was Chick-fil-a. I was only half-joking. After all, five months ago Brad managed to hand deliver me Krystal. What's next on the fast food list but a chicken sandwich. And not just any chicken sandwich, but the new spicy chicken sandwich. Yes, even though I am on the other side of the world, I still get updates from Chick-fil-a.com, and I probably knew about the debut of the new sandwich before most of my friends in the States. Would I truly have to wait until November to try this new exciting innovation? What do I want from America? I want the new spicy chicken sandwich from Chick-fil-a.

Mark's dad seemed to be excited by the challenge. The plan was set in motion. They would get the sandwich the day before they left. Freeze it overnight. Then seal the chicken, buns, and pickle in separate zip-lock bags. Mark would be getting a regular sandwich, and I'd be getting a spicy one. They'd pack the goods into their luggage and they'd unpack it after the 30 hour trip. Simple.

When Mark's parents and sister arrived, Mark sent me a text to tell me the sandwiches were in tow. They'd made the Transatlantic light bez (without) problem. Unfortunately, I'd be in Shymkent until Sunday and the sandwiches would arrive in Taraz on Friday. What's another couple of days though?

Sunday (yes, on Sunday) I arrived back in Taraz and, even before going home, immediately went to Mark's house. His family was asleep, still jet-lagged by the long trip. He got out the sandwich. Although originally planning to wait for me, he understandably succumbed to the hunger and had eaten his sandwich the day before. I unwrapped mine piece by piece. First the bread. Then the pickle. Then the chicken. We reheated it on the stove and the reassembled it.

I lifted it to my mouth and took a large bite. MMMMMMmmmmmm. It was amazing. It tasted amazing. It was just like I had remembered it, and the spiciness was an interesting enhancement. I relished in the food, savoring each bite. Chewing and chewing and chewing. I don't think I've eaten anything so slowly in my life (see previous entry about hot-dog eating contest). I didn't want to finish it, but eventually I was down to the last bite. I popped it in my mouth and slowly chewed. Chick-fil-a in Kazakhstan. This country is always full of surprises.

What I did on my summer vacation

2010-07-27T10:39:00.001-07:00

So I'm back at my site now. I'm sitting at home. Alone in my apartment. And it feels great. For now. I'm sure a couple days of this and I'll be bored wishing I was back traveling again, but it feels good to finally have a break. The roller coaster that was the summer seems to have wound down, although a week earlier than expected.

Uzbekistan did not work out for us. Me, Mark, Courtney, and Jessica had wanted to go check out some of the old cities there. We filled out our paperwork, jumped through tons of PC hoops, and then in the end never got our letter of invitation. The tour agency (Roxana Tour) said that it could take months for us to be processed because we are all Peace Corps volunteers. That would have been nice to know from the beginning, but we had trusted the tour agency to secure visa assistance, and they did not. Other volunteers have used this agency in the past, but I don't know if I can recommend them, mainly because next week instead of going to Uzbekistan I will be sitting at home in Taraz.

Before traveling to Almaty to get a final NO on the Uzbekistan issue from the embassy, I was in central to northern Kazakhstan in a gorgeous spot known as Shchychenks. There were not only trees, but forests! Forests! In Taraz, we have lots of trees. It's very green, but we don't have actual forests with trails. It was amazing to see. It's also not far from Kazakhstan's "Little Switzerland" known as Borovoe (http://www.lonelyplanet.com/kazakhstan/northern-kazakhstan/lake-burabay). It does not look like Switzerland, but it was awesome to see a beach in Kazakhstan. I hope in the future there will be something like the Jersey Shore filmed there with locals.

I was up north to learn Russian, but I think I came back speaking worse Russian than I did before I left. A week surrounded by English speakers means that whatever Russian we do learn won't actually be used. I speak now and hear so many mistakes. I want to surround myself for a week with only Russian speakers so I can start speaking okay again.

Before going to the lake-filled land of Akmola Oblast, I was at BASEBALL CAMP!. Baseball camp this year was awesome because A) It's baseball camp. B) Mark's parents brought sweet Braves hats for everyone. Everyone being the children and Mark. C) We stayed in a sweet pimped-out yurt complete with two beds and a television D) We had a ton of awesome volunteers come and help out. The two beds were somewhat useful, but because there were ten of us, it was really only 20% useful. Other highlights included sponge dodgeball, BASEBALL, picnic by the river, lots of watermelon, BASEBALL, berry picking, banya-ing, and finding a sweet new karoke spot in the city. It was a lot of fun, and I'm already excited about next year's camp. We'll need some more balls though, but I'll try to get some donated or something and bring them back. We have tons of hardballs, but we are afraid to use them and all of our squishy baseballs are ripping at the seams.

Before going to BASEBALL CAMP!, I was in Shymkent for an activity/English camp. We went to the water park. We went bowling. We went to Mega. The kids on our trip decided they didn't like delicious pitas. I also learned a new Kazakh superstition that people here don't drink out of chipped cups or glasses. Now I acknowledge that its bad for a restaurant to serve you a chipped cup, but if I got one, I'd just turn it around and drink from the non-chipped side. Here, a poll of all 20 students revealed that all of them would send it back. It's an insult to the guest to serve such a glass. Two years here, and there is still the stuff I don't know. Overall, the camp was fun and the kids had a good time. And they were speaking so much English. After working with them for half a year, it finally sounds like they are opening up and become more comfortable speaking. I had a good time too despite my sandals breaking on day two. And me only bringing sandals. I don't think they could handle the nightly discoteque we had at the hotel restaurant.

So now I'm back at my site. I don't have any major travel plans until September for our Close of Service conference (despite staying a third year, I still get to go). Seven full weeks at site. Hopefully, I'll get a lot done. I'm really excited to hit the school year running with all sorts of service projects and volunteer recruiting. I also need to finally hunker down and make my organization a web site.

Preview for upcoming blog: Another description of trains in Kazakhstan, but this one is mind-blowing

One more year!

2010-07-23T12:38:00.001-07:00

So I was originally supposed to leave Kazakhstan some time in November 2010. However, I decided to "extend" (Peace Corps lingo), and I'll be around here until December 2011. I thought a lot about it over the past few months, and finally turned in my application at the end of May. I heard a few weeks ago that it was accepted. In addition to just extending, I'll be staying on as a "Peace Corps Volunteer Leader," so I will have a few more administrative tasks added to my normal workload. Overall, the expectation is I work 70% at my work and 30% assisting staff and other volunteers.

So why did I stay? Do I just absolutely love life here in Kazakhstan? I stayed because I think I can get some interesting work done over the next fifteen months. I came to my host organization seven months late after a site change, so I feel like I was behind everyone else in learning about their organization. I have some specific projects I'd really like to get done before I leave Kazakhstan, and I think staying an extra year will let me do it. I also have a rather comfortable life in Taraz (cable, Internet, a working oven). And life is still interesting here. I am used to a lot of it, but every week if not every day there is still something new for me here.

This doesn't mean I won't come home until December 2011 though. As part of the extension, PC requires us to go home for a month. And they even pay for this trip! (However, after coming back to country, if I decide to go home early I then have to reimburse them.) But free trip to America is tentatively scheduled for February/March 2011. I'll be home for about six weeks. So probably a few weeks at home, maybe one in Atlanta, one in Nashville, one in Illinois (maybe, but its far and icy that time of year), and one spent trying to find a late winter/early spring hat/pickup frisbee tournament. I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone even though its seven months away. :)

Busy Busy Busy and a Failure

2010-06-30T12:02:00.001-07:00

So a few weeks ago I posted a schedule for my summer and said it would be busy. It has been! My current schedule is wake-up, prepare for camp, do camp, teach business English, come home, watch World Cup Game 1, eat dinner, try to watch World Cup Game 2 before passing out.

Last week we had a great time at Tay Samal camp (thanks Christina and Jacob for coming, and Mark for heading up there from Taraz). Next week we have a camp in Shymkent because the second week of our activity camp was hijacked by a grant won by people in Shymkent. We had a lot of cool stuff planned, so hopefully their camp can match it.

Today, I was set to have the coolest day in Peace Corps ever and it failed on so many levels. Plan was to make American breakfast in my office for the camp we are having. See, you don't understand what its like to be asked a bajillion times what your national food is, to say we don't have one national food because we value variety in our dishes, only to be told you are wrong. You're national food is hot dogs and hamburgers. No, darn it. Chili and meatloaf and BREAKFAST. People here are not breakfast eaters usually. Maybe some bread and jam and definitely tea, but a Sunday brunch with pancakes, waffles, sausage, etc - unheard of. So today since we were doing American language camp, we were going to cook our national dish - breakfast.

I knew the guards in our building had a small electric burner and I got their permission to borrow it. Then I bought a lot of food. Flour, milk, kefir, eggs, sugar, salt, baking soda, etc. I hauled a bunch of cooking stuff from my house to work. I even got my co-workers to bring some spare mixing bowls. The plan: have the kids split into teams. Give them each a recipe for pancakes in English. Give them access to the supplies. Let them at it. Then they'd bring it to me in the next room and I'd fry them up.

For those of you that aren't in Kazakshtan, this is very very weird. An office is an office. It is not a kitchen. While this may be kinda kooky in America, this is pretty much unheard of in my neck of the woods. (On a similar note, the Egg Drop for tomorrow has been replaced by American dancing (yeah, YMCA!) because it is culturally insensitive to waste food for science experiments).

All was going super duper awesome. The kids were mixing. They were excited. They were confused by these American things called pancakes. (In Kazakhstan, pancake is translated as Blini. But blini are really crepes. Thick pancakes are not very common.) And then I fired up the burner. And waited. And waited. And then just as it was getting hot, it switched itself off. Oh Bozhe. Yeah, the safety mechanism on the borrowed electric burner turns itself off if it gets too hot. BLIN!

How hot? Not even hot enough to really cook a pancake hot. Hotter than warm, but nothing all that hot. FAIL. Lesson to all future Peace Corps volunteers (and one I should have learned myself already) always do a test run with the kitchen equipment when planning to feed 25 people at a summer camp.

Like we did cook up some pancakes, but the process was taking way too slow. And they were never fully fluffy and delicious like they should have been. So an hour in half into the experiment (we had scheduled one hour for cooking and one for eating) we'd made about twenty pancakes, not nearly enough to feed all of the kids and the staff. My director wisely took them to a nearby cafe and got them a real lunch.

It wasn't a disaster entirely. The children did learn some new vocabulary (including the word for spatula, a device that most locals don't even know how to call it in Russian). They did learn some new recipes. They did try pancakes. And I think they had fun too. It just wasn't enough to feed them for the day. Next time I'll test the burner before hand.

Frisbee Camp: Week One

2010-06-18T21:32:00.001-07:00

We didn't have concrete goals going into the camp, so it's hard to say if it was a "success." But I think overall, it went well.

Did children play Frisbee? Yes.

Did they learn that Frisbee is awesome because there are no referees and everything is governed by this sweet "Spirit of the Game" attitude? No, there was lots of yelling.

Did we have one day with absolutely no children? Yes, but only one.

Did everyone have a good time and get certificates in the end? Yes.

We'll see how it goes next week at Tay Samal!

Blogger is back!?

2010-06-08T10:31:00.000-07:00

So for reasons unknown, I can now post in blogger again. Hooray! No more updates through emails. And I'll be changing the pictures and updating the site a little bit more. No idea how long this will be available, but I like it. I can finally comment on my friends' posts too!

Summer plans

2010-06-06T20:17:00.001-07:00

My schedule for the summer:

This week: Finish planning everything that is to come

June 14 - June 18: Frisbee Camp at School 27, Leadership School

June 20 - June 27: Frisbee Camp at Tau Samal

June 28 - July 9: Access English Camp, Business English course

July 11 - July 16: Baseball Camp in Asa

July 18 - July 23: Language Camp in Switzerland (of Kazakhstan)

July 25 - July 30: Do something at my site

August 1 - August 9: Uzbekistan?

August 11 - Hike 4 a Kaz

August - Do lots of work to recruit new volunteers for my organization

I look at that and I feel a little overwhelmed, but I think it'll be fun. Four of the weeks, I am planning the camps, and one of the weeks I am assisting. However I'm looking forward to lots of frisbee with children, daily discos, and finally going to Baseball Camp.

More pictures, I promise

2010-05-31T21:47:00.001-07:00

So as a result of getting my Internet installed, I'd like to post more pictures online. You can check them out at my Picasa albums page. I'll try to insert a fw here and see how they work.

Inserting pictures did not work. I'll try that again some other time.

A Long Story

2010-05-24T13:06:00.001-07:00

I got Internet installed at my apartment…. That one sentence leaves
out a lot of backstory though. I'll fill in a few details.

October 2009
I remember that the volunteer nearby named Scott has a wireless modem.
He's also going to be leaving in a month. I call up Scott and ask for
the modem. He says he just promised it to Britt. BUT he happens to
have two. Something about one not working for a while. But now they
both work. He'll give me the spare.

November 2009
Scott leaves and I realize that I never talked to him about HOW I
would get the modem. It turns out he left it in Shymkent with the
volunteers there. I can get it whenever I want.

December 2009
I finally go to Shymkent in order to speak to the Bilim center. While
I'm there, I get the modem! Modem received. Now I just need to get
KazTelecom to come by and hook up the DSL. I look at my bank account
and I think about the 7000 tenge installation fee. Since I just bought
a washing machine in November, I decide to wait until the new year
(and pay day) to get Internet.

January 2010
Now the fun begins. I call up my landlady and tell her I want to turn
on the Internet. She agrees in principle and says we'll talk about it
next time she gets the rent. That's not until the 20th though. I agree
to wait, because I don't think there's anything else I can get her to
do.

I go by the phone company's office (Megaline is the brand name) and
ask what I need. She tells me the name of some document. I don't
understand so I get her to write it down. I still don't know what it
is; something to do with rights to the phone and who owns the
apartment.

I call my landlady back and tell her that she'll need to bring this
one document when she comes for the rent. She says okay, but doesn't
agree to bring it. She says she can only come on Sunday. She comes for
the rent without the document. We talk about it. She explains that she
can't come into town during the week because her grandson is sick. The
mom works and she has to be at home with him. She apparently also
can't take him to the phone office (?).She also doesn't trust me with
the document. Only she will give it to them. She tells me to wait
until the grandson gets better.

The phone company is not open on Saturday or Sunday, so there's no way
I can sign up for Megaline. Then I see that there are some private
dealers for Megaline. I go and talk to one. Are you open on Saturdays?
Yep, they are. I call my landlady. She doesn't trust them, she says.
They'll copy her document, forge it, and then she'll lose her
apartment. I tell her I don't think that's true, but she won't believe
me. I'm stuck again.

February 2010
I keep calling the landlady about once a week. Finally, the grandson
gets better, but she falls ill. She goes to the hospital. In
Kazakhstan, this can be serious or not serious. I don't know. But I
don't pressure her. Okay, you're in the hospital, I guess I can wait.

Finally, at the end of February, she's out of the hospital. Can you
come to the office now? No, she's still weak. I give her a week. She
finally agrees to come.

March 2010
We meet at the Megaline office. Signing up takes about five minutes.
That's it. She gave them her document, they made a copy, and she
signed something. Two months for this? Okay, so when will I get it.
Megaline says they'll check the quality of my phone line (they send
Internet through the phone here rather than through cable) and call me
in a week.

A week! A week until the Internet. I wait a week. Megaline has not
called. I go back to the office.

Oh, they checked the line. It's not good. They need to change it. How
long do I need to wait? The woman in the office doesn't know. I should
go ask someone else.

I go next door to the other offices of KazTelecom and see the Megaline
specialists. They tell me to call a number and talk to someone. I
don't like phone conversations with random people in Russian. I decide
to wait a couple more weeks.

A couple weeks, pass and I go back to the office. The woman knows me
by now. She calls a guy, and he says they still haven't changed the
line going to my building. I ask her, when? When will they change it?
In a year? She laughs and says no. A week? She once again laughs.
Okay, so now I have a time frame. Somewhere between a week and a year.

I decide to go back once a month to keep checking on the process.

May 2010

I go back the office. She says she still doesn't know when, but I can
ask the guys in the other office again. That didn't go so well the
first time, but I'll give it another try.

I go next door and I take my number. They actually have a really
efficient waiting room system. You pick the service you want from a
machine, then it spits out the number you are. You have to wait in a
lobby area where a screen will flash which customers are currently
being served. For Kazakhstan, this seems revolutionary.

Finally, my ticket is called and I go talk to the guys. The Megaline
office has four desks set up where clients can talk to a service
representative. Two of them are un-staffed. I sit down across from a
younger guy, while another guy sits at a desk without any clients. I
start telling my story. He checks the computer and confirms. Yeah, my
line is bad. They're changing it. They don't know when.

When, when I implore. I've already waited two months. When will they
change it? Can't they just give me a time table? He talks with the guy
next to him for a while. Looks something up, then says, we can maybe
give you WiMax. WiMax? What the heck is WiMax? I've heard of WiFi, but
not this.

He explains. They'll put a satellite dish at my apartment. They'll
beam me the Internet. Not everywhere has signal, but he thinks my
house will. I give him my number and he says he'll call me in a couple
days.

A couple days go by and still no call. I go back to the office and
speak to him again. They greet me warmly, remembering the American who
wants Internet. He makes a few clicks on his computer and says, yep,
there is a signal at my house. I should be able to get WiMax. What's
next, I ask. They'll send someone by my house tomorrow morning to
install it.

Then they ask me how to get on the roof of my building. I tell them I
don't know. I live on the fourth floor. I don't know who has the key
to get to the roof above the fifth floor. They say not to worry. They
can put the satellite on the balcony.

So the next day, I'm waiting at my house for the installation guys.
Amazingly, they come on time with no waiting or delays. They
immediately ask me how they can get on the roof. I tell them I don't
know, so we call my landlady. She says the neighbor has a key. We
knock for a while, but the neighbor is not home. I was so close. They
were ready to turn on the Internet! But alas, I was once again denied.
They tell me they can come back the next day if I get the key. I
should call them in the morning to let them know.
I go to my neighbor's house that night and leave a note. The next
morning, the note's still there. So still no key. Still no internet.
That night my neighbor calls me. She asks what I want to do on the
roof. I tell her I want to turn on the Internet. She asks if they will
drill holes in the roof. If they drill holes, then the roof will leak
and there will be water in her house. I don't think this is true, but
how can I really know? I don't know how they install this Internet
satellite. I can't make any promises. I won't give you permission she
says; I won't give you the key.

The next day, I go back to the guys at the Megaline office to explain
the problem. I just wanted them to explain what they were going to do
on the roof. Maybe they could qualm her fears. They sense that this
could be a problem, so they talk among themselves for a bit. Then the
guy says to me, we can turn on regular Megaline, but it may be a
little slow. How slow, I ask. About 1MB per second. 1MB per second?
That's blazing for Kazakhstan. Yes, yes, yes. He says he can do it
tomorrow. Then he realizes tomorrow is Saturday. He asks if I can turn
it on myself if he guides me through the steps on the phone. Of
course, I assured him (not knowing what that meant really). He said he
would call me later that day in the afternoon.

Friday I waited eagerly all day. I went home from work a few hours
early to wait for his call. I finally got Scott's modem out of the box
and got out the disk. Then remembered my computer doesn't have a disk
drive. Then remembered that I had borrowed Jessica's disk drive and
hadn't given it back yet. It was a sign! The Internet would be
installed. Then the disc for the modem wouldn't work. Blin! Luckily
though, after the third time trying and wiping it down with a cloth,
it finally managed to get through the set up. Then the guy from
Megaline called and guided me through the process. No problems!

And that's how I got Internet installed at my house.

Facts about yurts OR A Volunteer Named Dave

2010-05-04T00:11:00.000-07:00

First, I'd like to say Brad captured the spirit of the trip very well. I really enjoyed his perspective on things as someone new to the country. I threw a lot at him, and he did great. Most of the things Brad got wrong were minor: we did x before y type things. But they aren't important for the story. However, Brad did confuse the story of the yurt in Asa quite badly. Enough that deserves correcting now.

Many years ago, there lived a volunteer in Kazkahstan. I don't know his name. But he bought a yurt. Because yurts are cool. (See Brad's entry and photos.) And they aren't that expensive. (Maybe $600 then probably. Try buying a house for that much outside of Detroit these days.) But despite being carried around by Kazakhs as movable transportation for hundreds of years, they are big. So without a caravan going from KZ to America, you may have to pay a pretty penny to ship a yurt back home. Probably more than the cost of the yurt.

Well, original un-named volunteer did not consider the shipping costs. And when he calculated them, he realized he couldn't justify spending his whole readjustment allowance on the yurt shipping. (He probably had to use it to travel.) So the yurt stayed here under the vigilance of a local friend. It was stored in her shed or something. Not really sure. But he had plans to one day find a way to get this yurt home.

That was years and years ago. And the caravan he must have been waiting for never materialized. Eventually, friend of the un-named volunteer no longer wanted the yurt taking up space where ever it was taking up space. Also, it was being entirely unused. So she though, who might want a yurt? The answer: Dave.

Let's rewind a bit to talk about Dave. He was a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit, who took the midnight train going anywhere. Just kidding about that part, had some residual Journey stuck in my head after finally watching the pilot episode of Glee. But yeah, Dave was from somewhere around Detroit. (Which makes the idea of him buying the yurt even more ridiculous. He knows $600 is way too much for a house.) He worked at a youth/community organization in a small village north of Taraz called Ainalain.

From the stories about locals, you'd think Dave was a super hero. He spoke Kazakh that rivaled Abai. He played baseball better than Mickey Mantle. And his beard bested even the best Russian Orthodox bishop. While none of these claims are true, they model reality. He did a lot for his org in the time he was there, and the people of Asa remember him fondly.

One of the goals of his organization is the preservation of Kazakh culture. They want to make sure the younger generation never forgets their past. It's very important here. To do that, they make traditional crafts and have camps with local youth. And what fits more into traditional Kazakh culture, then a yurt.

So friend of original volunteer happens to know Dave (because everyone here did) and calls him up one day. I believe the conversation went something like:

"Do you want a free yurt?"

"Uh… Did you say free?"

"Yeah, I have this yurt sitting here that I don't want. Could your organization use it?"

"Yes. Yes. Uto zharksa (Kazakh)."

And then he took the rest of the day off, because he had just scored a yurt for his organization, for free.

The Hot Dog Contest, Part 2

2010-05-02T23:19:00.001-07:00

This blog is a continuation of the previous story. Please see the previous entry if you are just stumbling upon this entry.

After a solid set of dancing, they set up the room for round number 2. Aidos decided to volunteer for this round. He can eat, but I didn't feel he was a major threat. The same set up was given and Round 2 began. I immediately noticed that almost everyone was dunking. Had they learend this from me? Or did the more serious competitors just wait for a later round?

It quickly became apparent that only one guy would be a threat. He was on a good pace and did not quit. It was hard to keep track of how many he had eaten, but they were quickly disappearing from his tray. Then I noticed that two of his friends lifted a hot dog from his tray when the judges weren't looking. What?! Well, we are in Kazakhstan. And cheating is better phrased as helping a friend out. I pointed this out to the judges and they put the dog back on the table.

At ten minutes, all the competitors stopped. They counted Aidos's total. He had gotten 5 down. Definitely respectable. Then they counted major threat as getting down eight. But I counted, and he had seven complete hot dots left on his table and one half of one. That was eight on the table, meaning he'd put down seven. They miscounted! I tried to explain this to the judges, but they didn't understand. He'd only eaten seven and a half. And I'd eaten seven and 9/10. But by the rules, both of us should have been counted as seven. So I couldn't really complain that much. And maybe Round 3 would just blow us out of the water. Or maybe, there'd be a tie and I'd have to eat even more hot dogs.

The competitors for Round 3 were scary. Three guys weighing at least 200 pounds, one who was ripped, one with a chubby gut, and one that was just a big Kazakh man. Three minutes in though it was clear that the muscle man was a pretender, but the other two guys were serious contenders. They guy in black kept a good pace, eating one hot dog at a time. But the guy in white was a beast. He'd be dunking two or three hots dogs at a time and then ripped them to pieces with his mouth. He ate like an animal. And he finished eight hot dogs with about three minutes left. I was impressed. He stopped at nine before the judges reminded him of the steady progress of the guy in black and quickly finished off number ten to put us all away. As the time ran down, the eventual winner was just standing around and the guy in black just managed to finish his ninth. They called time and the guy in black ran off, possibly to vomit all of what he just ate (apparently allowed in this competition.)

So there I was, tied for third. There'd be a showdown. I'd have to eat more hot dogs. The announcer called me and the other guy with eight onto the dance floor again. They put a tray of ten hot dogs in front of each of us and said we had five minutes. At first, they didn't give me a chuck bucket, but I made sure I had one of those available. This was really the first time I got a look at my competition. He was taller than me, probably about 5'11, but wasn't very big. We stared at each other as if enemies, but then laughed it off. He seemed like a fun guy, but I was not going to give up without a fight.

The clock started and hot dog one went down surprisingly easy. Maybe going in Round One had given me the advantage after all. I did have about thirty more minutes of rest and digest than this guy. Hot dog two was a struggle, but I realized that water is great for getting down the last bits of a bite. It almost came up a couple times, but I managed to hold it down. My competition was about ¼ of a dog behind me but seemed to be slowing down. As I picked up dog number three, I looked down at my the timer on my phone. Three minutes gone, two minutes left. I knew I could get one more down. I told myself don't worry about the other guy. Just get this one hot dog down in two minutes. You can do it.

After the first bite, I doubled over in pain. That was entirely unsuspected. Up until that point, the problem had been holding down all the food. But now, my stomach was in agony. Ever bit I swallowed was like another sharp jab. I was about half way through though, and my competitor had just eaten the sausage from number three. One minute left. Dip, swallow, pain. Dip, swallow, pain. I was squatting, not even able to stand up. But finally, with one final swig of water, I was able to get the last bit down. I had done it.

Time expired and they declared me the winner of the eat off. My prize: a sweet medal and a bag of men's beauty products. And although I didn't win 100 dollars or the sleek stereo set given to second place, I left with pride knowing that I had put up a good fight for my country. Eleven hot dogs, fifteen minutes, not bad for a first try. However, I am astounded and amazed at what the pros can do, about 6 to 7 times more hot dogs than I can. Really, I think I rank that feat higher than iron man triathlons.

The Hot Dog Contest

2010-04-29T00:54:00.001-07:00

I've always wanted to enter an eating contest. Well, not always. For a long time, I had no idea competitive eating could bring fame, money, and prestige. (Think it doesn't, Google "Joey Chestnut" and see how many pages come up.) But once I realized you could eat for sport, I wanted to try it. I love competing and I love eating. (Sure, the first time someone says you remind them of a T-rex when you eat may be disconcerting, but eventually you get used to the comparison.)

I eat well. Usually faster than everyone else around me and usually finishing all my food. And your food if you don't. (I have strict internal rules about when I can ask if I can eat your food.) It wasn't always like this though. When I was younger, I pretty much lived on a diet of chicken fingers, mac and cheese, and noodles. I was a strange child who liked fish sticks but not fish and ketchup but not tomato sauce. That ended in my teenage years when I began eating anything and everything and was greatly bolstered by J. Michael Floyd's policy of unlimited food at the UGA dining halls. (Let the Big Dawg eat!)

Back to Kazakhstan though. My co-workers were the first to tell me about the hot dog eating contest. But by the end of the day, the signs were posted all around town. "Hot dog eating contest. Sholpan night club. April 12 10:00. First prize: $100." Quickly, everyone was encouraging me to enter the competition. For those of you that only live in America and have never been to Kazakhstan, you may not know that hot dogs are our national food. I had to enter the competition. It wasn't an issue of eating prowess, but protecting the pride of an entire nation.

I figured I would be able to sign up the day of the competition, but Aidos and Asela were wiser. They went by the Friday before the competition to learn what was what. They found out they had to sign up, but there were only two spots left. Even though Asela wanted to compete herself (why, I don't really know. No one would ever compare her eating to a dinosaur.) she decided to sign me up instead. Aidos and I were registered. Now I had less than a week to train.

But I didn't train. I read somewhere once (or rather saw on MTV's real life, I'm a Professional Eater) that the pros eat a lot of lettuce to expand their stomachs. I figured I could do the same with cabbage. I thought a lot about that, but in the end it was just thinking. I also ate no hot dogs because hot dogs here are actually really disgusting.

This brings me to my primary concern prior to the compeition. I had no idea what they meant when they said "hot dog." Much like "Chinese food" in America is not real Chinese food, hot dogs in Kazakhstan are not real hot dogs. The problem begins with the sausage. It's very soft, kind of like a log of bologna. Then the bun is hardly ever a bun but a lipeowka cut in half. (That's a round bread popular here.) Way too much bread for the amount of meat. But they compensate by smothering it with ketchup, mayonnaise, and vinegar soaked carrots. Mustard? Ha! Way way too spicy for people here. (Side note: there is one place that serves almost American hot dogs in Taraz. The sausage is better and they put mustard on it. Ironically though, they call it "The French Hot Dog.")

The second concern were the rules to the contest. Would there be water? Was dipping the hot dog allowed? How many minutes would it be? Was it just one round of competition? I guess I could have gone by and asked, but I didn't. They remained questions until the day of the competition.

Wednesday came and I implemented my preparation strategy. Starving myself before the competition would be no good. My stomach would shrink and I'd get no where close to my maximum number. I ate a small breakfast, a full lunch, and one stick of shoshlik at dinner. I set a goal of eleven hot dogs at English club. I was ready.

At ten, Aidos and I arrived at the club. Mark, Jessica, and Courtney came along to cheer us on. It was my first time at this particular club. I had avoided it for some time because of its reputation, but I was there for hot dogs not for dancing. I figured it would be okay. Jessica said it reminded her of a frat house she went to once. The dance floor was in the middle of a octagonal room. The top floor was open allowing a balcony to look down at the dance floor. There were neon lights and strobe lights flashing. But the music was really good.

So we got there punctually at 10, but in local tradition we had to wait two hours for anything to start. Eventually they called all the competitors together to explain the rules. Eyeing the competition, I saw about three girls, a few big guys that seemed like threats, but mostly regular sized guys (also threats though.) The rules were laid out. Because the room was small, there would be three ten-minute round with six eaters. But we were all in competition against each other. They'd give us a liter of water (without gas) to help. They'd put fifteen hot dogs in front of us but they'd give us more if we finished them. I asked Aidos if we could dunk (despite Krishenya, I still don't know that word in Russian). Yes. We could dunk. Excellent.

Then about twenty minutes later, they started the competition. The asked for six of the registered participants to volunteer for the first set of six. And they asked again. And again. No one wanted to be in the first six, including myself. The final six are at a distinct advantage of knowing how many hot dogs need to be consumed. They can also pick up strategy tips from the other competitors. Finally, though, the nerves and waiting just got too much. I stepped up as competitor number four.

The dance floor was transformed into a hot dog eating stage. There were six round table placed in a circle around the floor. On each table, there was a tray with fifteen hot dogs, one mug of water, and a bottle with extra water. They also placed a stack of napkins there. On the floor next to each table was a bucket in case we had to… well, you can figure it out. In addition to these items, I placed my cell phone on the table so I could monitor the ten minutes myself and filled up my mug to optimize dunking. None of my competitors seemed as serious.

Then it started. I reached for hot dog number one. The bread was not a lipeoshka, and was only slightly bigger than an American bun. There were also no carrots, but it was slathered in ketchup and mayonnaise. I grabbed the meat out of the first dog and crammed it in my mouth. Chew chew chew. Swallow. The meat is the easy part. Then the bun. Dunk. Chew chew chew. It takes a long time to get the bread down. Dunk. Chew. Dunk. Chew. I finished the first dog in about 40 seconds. Dog two took about the same time. And so on.

At about minute five, I was about four and a half dogs in. I started noticing my competition. Two guys were keeping pace, but were not dunking. Major mistake. I seemed to be slowing down but never stopped. Pacing myself to the cheers from my fans. No one else seemed to have fans, but my blasties did a good job with the "Michael, Michael, Michael." And I even appreciated Mark's "Do it for Uncle Sam."

I finished another hot dog and looked down at the clock. One minute left. I had no idea how many I had eaten. But I said, one more. Get it down. Dunk. Chew. Dunk. Chew. It almost came up a couple times, but finally the last bite of bread was in my mouth.

Time!

By the official rules, that dog shouldn't count, but they had counted it. At the end of the first round, I'd put down eight. The two guys I had been concerned about had put down six and seven. But I knew the major threats were still to come. The pros would wait until round 3. And maybe even there would be some major eaters in Round 2, which was scheduled to take place in fifteen minutes.

The biggest surprise was that I felt fine. My stomach was full, but was by no means bursting. The strangest sensation was around the throat. It did feel like if I put anything else down, it'd all come up. But I was able to dance and boogie when they played Lady Gaga. I was confident but nervous. How would the eight hold up for the rest of the night?

To be continued…

Concert update

2010-04-23T07:50:00.000-07:00

So apparently, someone posted the concert on youtube. You can check out Bi-2 live: http://www.youtube.com/user/tarazmahmud

Quick Update

2010-04-23T07:48:00.001-07:00

First, thanks for Brad for guest blogging. I'll respond to some of his posts soon. But I'm at the internet, and I have some things to add.

This week was busy. It's my second week of teaching a night course at my organization. I really enjoy "Business English" but its tough to finish the day at 8:30 to 9:00 four days a week. This week was made even longer by the fact that it was our Spring Week of Kindness. Traditionally, we do tons of volunteer events during this week. And we did, but just on a smaller scale than usual. I really wish I could get more focus on our volunteer activites. They were doing so good two months ago, but then they have fallen apart again. But yeah, I was at work every day around 9 or 9:30 and going until 8:30ish. Long days for me. But good days. For the most parts.

Other news, I saw the group Bi 2 live last night. Apparently they are one of the coolest Russian rock bands ever. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bi-2 They played for two hours, which I was impressed with. And the setting of Navigator (still the best club in town - www.navigatortaraz.kz/ although web site is usually down) is great for rock concerts. Or has potential to be. I don't understand how some people can chill out in the VIP sections just eating and talking while there is a rock concert going on. But Bi 2 was great.

Soon, I'll be posting a heroic story of when I entered a hot dog eating contest a couple weeks ago. Hopefully that will start Monday. Happy belated Earth Day to all!