Hello world.
I fear I must apologize. Four months into my service and this is the first time I’ve written anything on this blog. I could tell you how busy I’ve been, that I’ve simply not had the time. But that wouldn’t be entirely true. Honestly – I simply haven’t had the emotionally energy to spare by writing anything worth reading. But now I hope to rectify that. Starting now and beginning with a few highlights from the past four months here in Central Asia. Although it seems cruel to wrap up four months in such a short manner, considering all the experiences I've had, please bear with me.
The last time I wrote here I was preparing for my departure from the land of cable television and Starbucks to a new and distant land, one I knew precious little about. After brief stops in Philadelphia, JFK and a long layover in Istanbul, I arrived in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan with 69 other eager and somewhat naïve Peace Corps trainees. Over the past four months a lot has changed. Not just concerning Peace Corps or my personal outlook, but for this country. The Kyrgyzstan I’m writing you from now is much different from the one I experienced when I first arrived. We’re in a new Kyrgyzstan now. Another change was saying goodbye to many good friends. The K-18’s number has dropped to somewhere in the 50s. I have zero hard feelings for these amazing and talented people; I wish you all the best friends!
After a few days of being in country, we moved to villages about 30minutes outside of Bishkek and into the homes of host families. I lived with a truly wonderful family, and had a really great PST (Pre-Service Training) group along with two of the best language teachers, Ainura and Malika aja.
After only two weeks of being in Kyrgyzstan, there were some "changes". Still new to this country and trying to acclimate to a completely different…well, everything, this was obviously a stressful time for all of us. Given 30 minutes to pack 1 bag, all the trainees and a decent majority of the other volunteers were consolidated to a safe location. After a week we were allowed to return to our villages and our training picked up where it left off for the most part. Unfortunately I took a nasty infection with me and I spent more or less the next month fighting it off with a series of 4 different types of antibiotics.
Finally training came to an end. I was so relieved. I was more than ready to start being productive, to be on my own, to not have Peace Corps looking over my shoulder. So on June 3rd we were swore in as official Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) and later that afternoon I moved to my new site.
Now I live in a really, really, really small village. I’m still in Chui oblast, which is in the north of the country. Bishkek is to the west of me, only about an hour away by marshuka. Tokmok is to the east, about 10 minutes down the road and then there’s Kazakhstan to the north. I literally live on the border.
My village is an odd little place. Although, thankfully, it’s located right on the main road so it’s fairly easy for me to get around. The first time I met my school director she told me how excited she was that I was here and that she wanted me to get the school new furniture for a teacher’s conference room. What a great idea, I thought. Except for the small insignificant fact that the students don’t even have textbooks and all the blackboards are worthless. Priorities are an interesting concept in this country.
We had been at our sites for barely a week when suddenly, and without warning, there were some more "changes" in the south.
In the wake of what happened, we could do nothing but watch and pray. We were thankfully able to spend one afternoon loading a cargo plane full of rice, flour, potatoes, and clothing heading down to Osh. It was the only tangible thing we could do and it wasn’t enough. But we were happy to do it, ecstatic really. Despite the pilot pointing at me and passionately arguing that as a woman the only thing I was capable of doing was cooking and birthing children, we spend close to 5 hours hauling and lifting. Not a word of complaint left anyone’s mouth. After we finished that same pilot looked at me in amazed embarrassment and shook my hand.
Not long after that we were consolidated for a second time. I was so sure that at any moment we were going to get evacuated. The week passed slowly, but pass it did. We were allowed to return to our villages and resume work. The following weeks were tense. I think all of us were on edge, jumping at every phone call, waiting for something else to happen. But thus far it hasn’t, thank God.
Our group, the K-18’s, have been tried through the fire of stress that I literally cannot explain. It’s in this context that we lost so many PCVs. I seriously considered coming home. And I know that no one would have faulted me for it. But I just couldn’t. I need to be here. For now, this is where I belong. We simply cannot bear to give up on this country. Please don’t misinterpret what I’m trying to say. I’m not courageous or brave for staying – I’m quite simply too stubborn to leave.
About two weeks after leaving our 2nd consolidation, along with 3 fellow PCVs (Esther, Gina and Nahrae – you’re all amazing!) I headed to Issyk-Kul for 9 days in mid-July to work an English summer camp. It was exhausting in its own way but a lot of fun. I got an up close look at what it takes to run a camp in this country and let me just say…I’m scared. But! The lake is beautiful and I will most certainly be back many times. Plus we made some wonderful new friends in the Flex alumni.
I got back to my village last week. That brings us to today, an uneventful Sunday. Of course there is so much more to tell. Plans for the future, goals, stories, etc. But I felt it was important to spend some time revisiting the past four months. A lot has happened since I left America last March. And this is obviously a very interesting time to be living and working in Kyrgyzstan. Despite everything, despite it all, I’m committed to seeing this through. This is my home now.
Stay tuned.
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