First Post In Country!!

Well I have been here for almost a week and I would say I am well overdue for a blog entry. I’m sorry if I have to nutshell some things, but if anyone has any specific questions about life here, I will definitely respond. After two uncomfortable flights and an eight hour layover in Frankfurt due to “technical difficulties” (I will never complain about Hartsfield again) I arrived in Kazakhstan, or the crazy KZ as we like to call it… actually I am the only one who calls it that.
Since our flight arrived in the morning instead of the previous night and the Corps did not schedule time for a flight delay of that magnitude, we went from the plane to a bus (if you can call it that) to our pre-training activities without sleep. If you can imagine 60 plus people herded from one strange place to an even stranger place and then being served completely foreign food on no sleep, you can probably guess it wasn’t exactly the best introduction to the country. Luckily the PC had an amazing cultural introduction planned where they had professional Kazakh musicians and dancers performing traditional dances. After they danced, the band played the Kazakh national anthem (which you guys should look up, it is awesome) and then invited us to stand and sing the star-spangled banner. Though I have heard/sung it a million times, I have to say I got a little emotional standing with these people who in my opinion represent the best America has to offer. That was the moment it all really sunk in. I thought, “Holy Crap, I’m really in Kazakhstan,” and this place couldn’t be further from home. I have nothing much to say about the actual training which is good because I am probably legally obligated not to, but we did get to take a escorted walk around Almaty which is about the craziest city I have ever seen. Think NYC without as many skyscrapers, crazier drivers (they exist believe me) and lots of people that either look at you and scowl or purposefully avoid your gaze. Oh and I saw a woman wearing a pink bathrobe cut short and safety-pinned at the top so as not to show too much cleavage… in public!
During the day we trained and after it was all over, Michael (a fellow UGA grad) and I decided to be adventurous and go to a restaurant next to the hotel. It turned out to be a great decision. After we communicated in gestures with the waiter we got a beer and were hanging out when out of nowhere three Kazakh women dressed in traditional garb (kind of like belly dancers that got in a fight with a sequin machine) came out on to the main floor and started dancing. It was awesome. After their song three men came out and danced, and they alternated for a few songs. During the last song the women came around to each table and danced in hopes that people would put tenge (the Kazakh currency) in their unnawears. So I guess some things are cross cultural… namely paper money and G-strings. After the dancing, a Russian man came to our table and introduced himself in broken English and then invited us to sit with his Kazakh friend and the friend’s brother. These guys were characters and after a couple of glasses of chai (tea) they ordered vodka and chasers. In Kaz, people follow up vodka with pickled foods so there was a plate of pickles, pickled onions, pickled potatoes, and pickled fish. The first thing PC teaches you is how to say no to copious amounts of alcohol (namely vodka) so Michael and I had a shot or two and then called it quits. Though the Kazakh brothers spoke no English, the Russian translated sort of and we talked for hours. Since we were the only ones who ventured out that night, Michael and I declared ourselves the winners of our training group and went back to the hotel feeling accomplished. The next day we had more training.
Pre-training was what it was. They gave us the basics about what was going to be happening over the next few days, but I have come to realize that even when the PC tells you what you are going to be doing, you don’t really understand until you are doing it. For example, they told us that we would be moving in with a host family immediately after PST, but I personally could not conceive of the idea of meeting several people for the first time and then sharing their home without being able to speak their language until the bus pulled up at the school where the families were waiting. Needless to say, it was scary as hell. I lucked out though. Upon arrival, my family had a card with my name on it (дрю богс) in case you were wondering how my name is spelled in Russkie. And I met my wonderful new temporary family. My host mom’s name is Sholpan and she is 48. She has a daughter named Saniya who is 22 and a son who is 13 named Timur (Timka if you are feeling affectionate). Their place is a flat that has running water most of the time and electricity, but most importantly has a toilet and shower which are in two separate rooms (it is hard getting used to). They have a washing machine that is in the kitchen and Saniya and Tima sleep in the TV room/living room (I got to catch the last of the Olympics, YAY!) and I sleep in the computer room which I am guessing based on the pink curtains was Saniya’s room before I arrived. Saniya speaks English well even though she only took one or two classes for six months, and Tima knows the basics, but is learning. Mama only speaks Russian and some Kazakh, but she is so nice and welcoming that the idea of being able to speak to her and thank her provides my biggest incentive to learn the language. I can catch her gist about half the time currently.
I am sure you are all wondering about the food, and let me assure you I am not going hungry. Mama is an amazing cook and she gives me about half the meat in each dish. They don’t take kindly to skinny guests in these parts. I am in a town called Keskalen about 30 minutes outside Almaty, so it is kind of like the suburbs… speaking very loosely. I arrived here Friday, and Saturday we had a party to celebrate the 20th anniversary of my host family’s move into the neighborhood. This party was my first opportunity to try a lot of traditional Kazakh food like beshbarmek!!! One of my fellow volunteers said she didn’t know whether or not she had eaten horse in one of her meals and I told her she would know if she had eaten horse. I would describe horse sausage as a dark looking meat that is tough and sort of stringy. A circular piece of sausage is half meat half fat and tastes surprisingly delicious. It tastes like most meats with a certain zip that is nigh indescribable. Or should I say neigh indescribable? Sorry, couldn’t resist. Beshbarmek is a Kazakh word that is translated as “besh” five, and barmek “ which means fingers so if you guessed you eat it with your hands you would be correct. And would you really want to eat horse any other way? So it’s basically horse sausage on noodle like dumplings. We also eat a lot of salat which is like coleslaw except way better. All our vegetables are grown in the garden in the yard and I have had some of the best tomatoes and peppers I have ever tasted. At the party we also had baursak which is like a hot roll, but even more delicious. If I could eat it at every meal I would be happy forever. Also I had plov… which is pretty much my new favorite dish. I am going to learn how to make it so I can rock everyone’s world, but it is fried rice (you will need a wok) and beef with some spices. Sounds simple but it is simply amazing. It basically knocks the socks off of the best Chinese food you have ever had. I’m sure there are more great foods that I am forgetting, but I’ll stop here lest I write pages about the food. In short it is not nearly as bad as PC made it seem and the only thing that has made me sick was some stuffed peppers that were tasty, but evil. My immune system is holding up well actually, knock on wood, and while some volunteers have had a variety of ailments, I am rocking steady.
I also got a cell phone for about sixty bucks and it is pay as you go… though a much needed call to my parents used up all my credits in about 5 minutes. Luckily I have internet at home and an internet café near the school so I should be easily reachable for the next 3 months.
Speaking of school, let me tell you what my schedule is like right now. I wake up at 7 and get ready and then walk 15 minutes to school where I have language class from 8-1. I can’t adequately describe how difficult learning Russian is. If I were not constantly bombarded by people speaking it at me, I would have given up already. There are 33 weird characters and many of them change sounds when placed next to other letters. For example sometimes “o” is “o,” but sometimes it is “a.” How do you know which it is? Well you don’t unless you memorize the word. My teacher Golbashun whose English is questionable says “Russian grammar is deep forest,” I would call it a swamp. Still each day my Russian improves noticeably and that feels pretty good. I should be able to communicate by the end of the three months… unfortunately I start observing class on Monday and start teaching in two weeks. How will I be able to teach so soon without being able to say more than basic greetings?… I’ll have to get back to you on that one. I can say “Ya Americansk” which means “I am American” and that gets me a pass on most conversation, but most people can look at me and tell that. Even Russian guys who in my opinion look sort of like me (especially since I shaved the facial hair off) shout “hello” at me on the street letting me know that in no way do I pass as even a Russian Kazakh. It’s cool though, no one so far has been threatening or mean, just aloof sometimes. Did I mention that very few people speak any English and that this society is about as far removed from Western ideology as one can get? There are no McDonald’s in Kazakhstan, no Americans, and the closest thing I get to home is a corner store that has a big Jessica Alba poster outside. On the bright side, everything is fairly cheap and I get 350 tenge (about 3 dollars) a day which is more than enough considering all my meals are covered by my family and a coke costs 70 tenge, a Twix a whopping 100 tenge, and watermelons for sale everywhere for like 150. What is hard for me are the gender roles and the fact that women do everything for men here. Coming from America it is a hard adjustment, but I will write more on that later. For now I will end this because I am nearing my third page and I don’t have that much faith in some of your attention spans. I hope everything is well with all of you, Da svedanya comrades… Oh did you know many people here mourn the dissolution of the Soviet Union? I have seen grown men almost cry when speaking of the loss of their motherland. Who knew?

Drew