Every once in a whlie...

The past few weeks since I have written have been the most unique experiences of my life and made me realize sometimes where I am and what I am doing, I forget often. On Halloween was the swearing in ceremony, where we took the Peace Corps oath and officially became Peace Corps volunteers. The only time I had seen a PC swearing in ceremony was in a movie that I think Jack Black was in, and I am pretty sure it involved walking on hot coals and a bunch of other stuff that unfortunately did not happen. Instead, we had to sing the Kazakhstan national anthem (as a group thankfully) and hear a mediocre speech by the US ambassador to Kazakhstan, I was impressed that he was once a PCV in Africa, teaching English, but not so much by the speech. Most of the new volunteers left right after the ceremony, but because my train ran less frequently I did not leave until the following day. My first Halloween in Kazakhstan was spent with many beers, good company, and anxiety about the days to come.
On Sunday a boarded the train to Shubarkuduk from Almaty, a 43 hour train ride I made completely unaccompanied. I could try to sugar coat this but honestly….the train ride was as close to hell as I have ever felt in my life. I basically went the distance from Atlanta to Utah on a train, with virtually nothing to look at out the window. I saw about 4 wild camels once. Kazakhstan is one of the bigger countries on the planet, but has a population of only 16 million; most of the central part is uninhabited. Every once in a while it really hits me that I am in Kazakhstan, completely on my own, living a way I never could have imagined, and that I am doing fine. It’s a pretty unreal feeling.
The people on the train were an interesting mix of families, drunks, and liars. In my room (coupe) as they are called, there were 4 bunks. I had 2 bunks to myself because of all of my luggage. There was also a woman and her 4 year old child in my room, as well as about a 50 year old man, who I detested. He snored incessantly, drank constantly, and tried to give the woman (who was clearly married) a kiss. He always had other men in the room who would ask me to play guitar for them, and eat fish in our room. I definitely watched myself around him, and slept with my knife. More than once I wished he would somehow fall off the train, get sucked out the window, or get off sometime soon. After a long 2 days, I arrived at my village around 8 AM Tuesday morning.
I had the school’s van come pick me up at the train station; my bags were taken from me (I was told not to carry them by the locals). I slept most of the day Tuesday, got a nice banya (outdoor bathhouse) at my counterpart’s house and ate. I will say that my counterpart’s bathhouse is easily the nicest bathhouse I have been in while in Kazakhstan, (I’ve only been in 3, but this is top of the line…..seriously). I more or less was treated like a diplomat on Tuesday. This was a more than surreal moment where my current situation was starting to be processed somewhere in the higher parts of my brain.
That evening I met my schools director, Didar, who seemed very disappointed that I know very little Kazakh, and studied Russian instead. Because my school is a Kazakh school, everyone is very upset that I know about 10 phrases in Kazakh, and can maybe count to 50 on a good day. Everyone understands Russian, but like any country they take an enormous amount of pride in their language and wish I knew it. I will make an honest effort to learn Kazakh and Russian.
On Wednesday I was asked to speak in Russian to the staff of my school…about 40 teachers. I sat on the stage of their auditorium and spoke about myself, my family, the weather in America…pretty much any crutch I can lean on that has been spoon fed to me in the language. At this moment I remember saying to myself “Holy shit, am I really doing this right now?” (Sorry, I know people’s grandmothers and employers read this).
As far as the school goes, it is pretty much top of the line. They have a lot of resources, an experienced staff, and seem to really be on top of the ball Also, my school teaches Turkish and Arabic, I would love to sit in on a few of those classes as well. Almost makes me wonder how needed I am here.
Later that day I arrived at my new host family’s house. It is a very nice home with a big family. They have 3 children, a young boy and girl, and a girl in 10th grade. Also the grandmother and grandfather live there as well. They are more than friendly and understanding that they basically have accepted another toddler into their home with me. I have been given a little guest house not attached to the main house, it has 2 rooms and gives me a lot of privacy. It’s great. I will definitely be able to play music a lot, and just in general feel like I can be myself a little more.
Honestly I feel guilty with how well I have been treated. I know we are supposed to “live as the locals do” but it is almost impossible once PC spreads their “This is what a typical American is like/ A Happy Volunteer is a Productive Volunteer”, obviously those benefit me greatly, and I appreciate it, but I feel almost too well taken care of. I was expecting a leaky roof, maybe no running water, no electric every once in a while, but I have none of those obstacles. I didn’t expect to be able to “live as an American does” while being here, I didn’t want to. After all, I did leave America.
My counterpart has CNN at her house, this really isn’t roughing it. I feel like the people in my village are going above and beyond to accommodate me, and it makes me a little uncomfortable. I would like to be treated like everyone else. I explained to my host family I will shower 2-3 times a week like everyone else, but they would prefer I shower everyday “like Americans do”…who knows. Tomorrow is Friday and the school is closed, I obviously have no weekend plans…maybe a Charlie Brown marathon, Thomas Pynchon, and 6 strings.
On another quick note…this blogging stuff makes me feel uncomfortable sometimes. I would rather not talk about myself/what I am going through all the time. You know, everyone is going through something right now…I know that. This is just my job; maybe it is a little unique, but I think there is something like 8,000 current Peace Corps volunteers in the world. Everyone has something I would appreciate hearing. If you had crappy day at work, or got pulled over for speeding, or dropped your cell phone in a puddle, or whatever, I can still relate to that too. Please don’t think this is all I think about in Kazakhstan. I miss everyone a great deal, and honestly any correspondence you have with me is not futility, I will enjoy it, appreciate it, and respond. (Hope that doesn’t sound desperate).

One more thing…..F**k the New York Yankees.

Love all of you,
Nick