Bibi sat at our meeting at the Peace Corps office in her her jeans skirt trying depserately to memorize the names of all the Volunteers so as not to miss a bit of interesting gossip. A Supervisor or Counterpart was to attend a weekend in Ashgabat to go over expectations and plans with us. While most of the Counterparts tried to schmooze with the other well-to-do Supervisor types, Bibi Isgenovna regailed the PC Volunteers with her camp song entitled "Nature Nuts". She is 24, always has a smile on her face, and is continually disciplined by her school director NOT to wear the watch with bells on it as well as to cut down on rings.
The first thing she asked about me was my name and birthday (which has yet to pass). At the mention of my family visiting from America, she gets instantly excited and asks, "May I be introduced?!"
Her classroom discipline is tough--she carries a stick--but the students all like her even though she calls them crazy. Thought not yet married, boys are often on the brain. She claims there are no good men in Turkmenistan, and so far I can't prove her wrong.
In the one week I've been here, we've attended at least 4 one-hour clubs per week, she works in school for 35 classes a week, and she has lesson plans neatly written in her spare time. On one particularly rough day for me, she told me she never shows her emotions. She smiles, listens, and lets it go. I don't know where she gets the strength, but she is more put-together than anyone I've seen.
Some Volunteers report that their Counterpart is drunk at work, and some are unwilling to accept a Volunteer. Some are too busy, and some are impatient. All that trouble--and here I have a girl who shows up at my house to take me to a wedding as an equal with all of her colleagues. I have the perfect social butterfly ("Butterfly" was her camp name at Nature Nuts English Camp--fitting!) to include me in the lives of my co-workers.
Cheers to Bibi!!
Nov 29, 2004
Nov 28, 2004
November 28 letter
Well, I'm here!
I met Wayne Wildman's Turkmen twin who just happens to work in our English department at school. What a coincidence! He speaks in a very careful and polite British accent. Today I observed one of his classes. Before class he had said, "I would like to extend to you an invitation to my class which will be taking place next hour here at School Number 15 in Room 27." Once, during a class where teachers from around the city observed, (I know . . . on my 3rd day in town!), we were teaching a lesson and mentioned that it was unexpected. He piped up with, "Ah yes . . . unexpected like a winter storm." Later he came and said, "I truly apologize, Karen, for I meant to add that it was as unexpected as a winter storm IN MAY. I swear he's Wayne Wildman's ESL counterpersonality.
So far it's been hard to figure out what's really going to work at my school. The teachers seem to think I'm here as an expert in order to critique their classes, so I've seen a lot of great students answering pre-planned questions. Teachers get "checked on" a lot, but always through a strange list of necessities for classes. Like they get yelled at for not writing the month (the newly created months) in both languages on the board every day, but not given credit for creative classes. During the open lesson I mentioned that we did a Thanksgiving class that was very full of learning and practice. We were told that it wasn't REALLY a class, but more of a seminar. No new grammar introduced.
So hopefully I'll start music soon. I'll be playing for classes and doing a short lecture on orchestral instruments to get interest up.
Oh, yeah, and our school doesn't have heat--except 6 classrooms. Why? Because whoever has those teachers has rich parents that bought heaters for their kids' classes. These are also the kids with the most experienced teachers. Go figure. :)
Love,
Kari
I met Wayne Wildman's Turkmen twin who just happens to work in our English department at school. What a coincidence! He speaks in a very careful and polite British accent. Today I observed one of his classes. Before class he had said, "I would like to extend to you an invitation to my class which will be taking place next hour here at School Number 15 in Room 27." Once, during a class where teachers from around the city observed, (I know . . . on my 3rd day in town!), we were teaching a lesson and mentioned that it was unexpected. He piped up with, "Ah yes . . . unexpected like a winter storm." Later he came and said, "I truly apologize, Karen, for I meant to add that it was as unexpected as a winter storm IN MAY. I swear he's Wayne Wildman's ESL counterpersonality.
So far it's been hard to figure out what's really going to work at my school. The teachers seem to think I'm here as an expert in order to critique their classes, so I've seen a lot of great students answering pre-planned questions. Teachers get "checked on" a lot, but always through a strange list of necessities for classes. Like they get yelled at for not writing the month (the newly created months) in both languages on the board every day, but not given credit for creative classes. During the open lesson I mentioned that we did a Thanksgiving class that was very full of learning and practice. We were told that it wasn't REALLY a class, but more of a seminar. No new grammar introduced.
So hopefully I'll start music soon. I'll be playing for classes and doing a short lecture on orchestral instruments to get interest up.
Oh, yeah, and our school doesn't have heat--except 6 classrooms. Why? Because whoever has those teachers has rich parents that bought heaters for their kids' classes. These are also the kids with the most experienced teachers. Go figure. :)
Love,
Kari
Nov 27, 2004
Essay #8 (Music)
It's hard to actually listen to a song objectively here, but with the help of boredom and earplugs, I've finally been successful. I attended the infamous "toi" yesterday. The word is used for any big party but mostly for weddings. The musicians consisted of an electric guitar player, a synthesizer, a singer, and someone doing something unknown to me but on stage nonetheless. The dislike of the toi music spreads pretty wide among PCVs, and even the locals admit freely that "it's just too darn loud!" The beat varies somewhat, but it almost always uses a fast beat with a 2 against 3 feel. The melodic instruments play in three but the beat always makes listeners clap in 2 (which amazingly enough, they do consistently at the right time). The melody is played by a synthesized sound much like an accordion or oboe. The melody is improvised upon, and here's where the description gets fuzzy. I'm not sure if they follow a key or set of notes or if the choice is random. They are not in a single scale, and sometimes I'm convinced the keyboardist can't hear the background he's on top of. The mode, if there is one, may be drowned out by the fact that the beat comes from a button on the synth or a taped recording. Many times on TV the instrumentalists merely play over a prerecorded song, so I have yet to learn the real intricacies of Turkmen music.
Traditional music exists here and is a far cry from the horror of the toi. The group is made of a single drum held on one's lap and played with the hands, an erhu-type violin with four strings tuned in fourths, and a dutar, which is a small pear-shaped guitar. They play melodies on both, and I've only heard a couple of songs by this type of group. The music schools teach these instruments and have cancelled most Western music programs. I look forward to learning the erhu, as Balkanabat has a music school. My hope is that the country continues their traditional music and people start either to develop past, or to regress from, synthesizer music. I know if I ever marry a Turkmen, there will be no blaring synthesizer at my wedding. :)
Traditional music exists here and is a far cry from the horror of the toi. The group is made of a single drum held on one's lap and played with the hands, an erhu-type violin with four strings tuned in fourths, and a dutar, which is a small pear-shaped guitar. They play melodies on both, and I've only heard a couple of songs by this type of group. The music schools teach these instruments and have cancelled most Western music programs. I look forward to learning the erhu, as Balkanabat has a music school. My hope is that the country continues their traditional music and people start either to develop past, or to regress from, synthesizer music. I know if I ever marry a Turkmen, there will be no blaring synthesizer at my wedding. :)
Essay #7 (Balkanabat so far)
Seeing Balkanabat through rose-colored glasses has given me a few skewed ideas. I've been in the city for exactly one week, and for the first time I took my eyes off the nearby mountains long enough to notice the number of used needles lying on the ground. Maybe it's just my block (I hear it's not), but the moment I saw my first dirty needle, I started counting. Within ten steps the count was at four. I've already noticed the broken-glass-ridden playground near my building. They evidently don't believe in woodchips here! The drug problem supposedly comes across from A-stan. We call heroin users and sellers "Narcomen", and they are easily noticed. On my first late night out my mother made sure I had someone to walk me home-- specifically because of Narcomen.
My route to school is down a main road, so I've mostly seen businesses. In a startling revelation, we now understand how illogical business is here. No one takes the time to clearly mark their stores. No one ever puts on sales. If there is low demand and high supply, no one thinks to lower their prices. The store workers couldn't care less. The end result is our depleting economy and a bunch of unhappy store owners.
I mentioned rose-colored glasses because of my family setup here. I have a great cook for a mother, easy communication, and my own floor for peace and quiet. I don't think I have as much potential for strong bonds as the people living with Turkmen families do, but I'll take the convenience for all it's worth.
Taxis here are cheap and easy. 2000 anywhere within city limits. The atmosphere is overwhelmingly Russian, which makes the school completely undisciplined, but the city life more comfortable. I can dress as I wish and most Turkmen rules of culture don't apply. I hear the city is very rough overall--it's compared to New York in that respect--but I find the people very personable after meeting them. I'll just have to keep my head down and walk with a purpose through the streets, and hopefully I won't be bothered!
My route to school is down a main road, so I've mostly seen businesses. In a startling revelation, we now understand how illogical business is here. No one takes the time to clearly mark their stores. No one ever puts on sales. If there is low demand and high supply, no one thinks to lower their prices. The store workers couldn't care less. The end result is our depleting economy and a bunch of unhappy store owners.
I mentioned rose-colored glasses because of my family setup here. I have a great cook for a mother, easy communication, and my own floor for peace and quiet. I don't think I have as much potential for strong bonds as the people living with Turkmen families do, but I'll take the convenience for all it's worth.
Taxis here are cheap and easy. 2000 anywhere within city limits. The atmosphere is overwhelmingly Russian, which makes the school completely undisciplined, but the city life more comfortable. I can dress as I wish and most Turkmen rules of culture don't apply. I hear the city is very rough overall--it's compared to New York in that respect--but I find the people very personable after meeting them. I'll just have to keep my head down and walk with a purpose through the streets, and hopefully I won't be bothered!
Hello!
It's so hard to get at a computer around here!! I was so happy to see people writing and updating!! That's the best xmas gift I can think of. I'll try to keep getting letters out! Balkanabat is great, and I'm sure you'll hear more of it in the next two years! Best wishes to all!
kari
kari
Nov 14, 2004
November 14 Christmas notes
Mom,
Ah, the thrills of preparing for the holidays before Thanksgiving. I guess this is what people who write Christmas cards every year feel like. I think I would excel at sending Christmas cards on time.
Today is my last day at site, and I'm very sad! I got a new dress to wear, and hopefully soon I'll have pictures of me dressed like a Turkmen bride. :) My mother has been away for 2 days, so I've bonded with my dad a bit and also done some cooking in the fly-ridden hell-trap that is an outdoor kitchen.
I almost wish I had requested a Turkmen family instead of a Russian family, though I will like the language practice. We had a test scored on "Novice/Intermediate/Advanced" with "low/mid/high". I got an "Intermediate-low" (very good) in Turkmen and and "Intermediate-mid" in Russian. My teacher assures me that Russian is much harder, but it's still a bit funny. I talk more with my family here now, and I think they like me. I shake things up a bit, but overall it's been nice.
We will have our "fun week" in Ashgabat where we will all pretend to listen to lectures on the alcohol policy, and then we will be officially "sworn in" on Nov. 19th. Then I'm a real Volunteer. (So far, I guess, it's been mostly vacation!)
*****************************************************************************************
Michael A-dot,
How's the knee?
So, Turkmenistan's desert beauty is starting to grow on me. Though "The Economist" evidently rated T-stan as the worst place to live in 2004, I'm not sure that I'm as uncomfortable as they'd like me to believe.
I have some really awesome friends here, but in a week we're all leaving. My friends all will live in Dashoguz region, and I'm way the heck over in Nebitdag in Balkan. So I'm pretty much stuck for a good long time all by myself. That should be a good test. I couldn't tell Mom (haha), but I feel very directionless here. We haven't been on our own yet, and we sometimes don't know what kind of help anyone even wants. Are we just patronizing the people here? Well, the best or worst part is that I have nothing really to do in the States, so I have no reason to give up. It seems so far from college here, yet it's all the "2 years" idea. We have no grades, no annoying University stuff, but we still have this structure and ladder of power and 2-year deadline that makes it feel like a "Camping Master's Degree". I'll have had a class on outdoor cooking, using a hole as a toilet, and luggage carrying, but not much more. :)
So, how are Margo and school in general? Gee, I'm going to sound like dad here-- "So, hey, what classes are you taking? Are you still in engineering?" In 2 years I'll still think you're in engineering even if you're in art or something.
I'm sorry I couldn't send any real presents--I sent what's here. I figure the bracelets are manly because they're made of camel hair, and camel's spit and are hairy. Plus, if anyone asks, you can say it protects you from the evil eye which, from what I hear, is pretty bad.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
***********************************************************************************
Sharon,
Well, since they don't really have Christmas here, I'm using the UW cards I brought from home. I hope all is well with you. It's only November 13th or so, but I haven't heard anything from you other than Mom's reports.
I'm on my last day here at Gypjak. I've had so much more success with my family recently. I tested well in Turkmen, so I've been more confident. Now I have to go, and PC policy is that I can't leave my new site for 3 months--even to visit country nationals. Thumbs down!! So I think I'll be in a bit of a slump for the first month at least in Balkanabat.
I've been meaning to tell you that your skirt is about the best skirt ever! It's exactly what I'm supposed to have. I've had two dresses made here, but they're pretty traditional and conservative. Anyway, I feel like I fit in okay here, and I now think a lot about the work we're doing.
I definitely realize it's not the toughing it out that makes people leave, but rather the Peace Corps falling off its pedestal. Everyone thinks it such a life-changing, monumental thing to do, but really it's just like anything else. Anyone can make it through.
My mom here has been out of town (a rare occurrence here) for 2 or 3 days, so I got to do some cooking and a bit of "servant work" for my dad. He's actually a cool guy and would never ask me to do anything, but I felt responsible as the only girl. I'm going to take lessons in Turkmen sewing, etc. at my permanent site.
Well, this is sort of a Christmas card, so I'll apologize for the obvious lack of cool presents. :) If any of the stuff I sent appeals to you, fight for it. I made the bag with the zipper for you, though! It's a very early sewing attempt. I was still trying to work the pedals correctly. Anyway, good thoughts to you, and have a merry Christmas! Tell every family member who cares that I'm doing well, and make it sound sincere and personal. :) Miss you!
Love,
Kari
Ah, the thrills of preparing for the holidays before Thanksgiving. I guess this is what people who write Christmas cards every year feel like. I think I would excel at sending Christmas cards on time.
Today is my last day at site, and I'm very sad! I got a new dress to wear, and hopefully soon I'll have pictures of me dressed like a Turkmen bride. :) My mother has been away for 2 days, so I've bonded with my dad a bit and also done some cooking in the fly-ridden hell-trap that is an outdoor kitchen.
I almost wish I had requested a Turkmen family instead of a Russian family, though I will like the language practice. We had a test scored on "Novice/Intermediate/Advanced" with "low/mid/high". I got an "Intermediate-low" (very good) in Turkmen and and "Intermediate-mid" in Russian. My teacher assures me that Russian is much harder, but it's still a bit funny. I talk more with my family here now, and I think they like me. I shake things up a bit, but overall it's been nice.
We will have our "fun week" in Ashgabat where we will all pretend to listen to lectures on the alcohol policy, and then we will be officially "sworn in" on Nov. 19th. Then I'm a real Volunteer. (So far, I guess, it's been mostly vacation!)
*****************************************************************************************
Michael A-dot,
How's the knee?
So, Turkmenistan's desert beauty is starting to grow on me. Though "The Economist" evidently rated T-stan as the worst place to live in 2004, I'm not sure that I'm as uncomfortable as they'd like me to believe.
I have some really awesome friends here, but in a week we're all leaving. My friends all will live in Dashoguz region, and I'm way the heck over in Nebitdag in Balkan. So I'm pretty much stuck for a good long time all by myself. That should be a good test. I couldn't tell Mom (haha), but I feel very directionless here. We haven't been on our own yet, and we sometimes don't know what kind of help anyone even wants. Are we just patronizing the people here? Well, the best or worst part is that I have nothing really to do in the States, so I have no reason to give up. It seems so far from college here, yet it's all the "2 years" idea. We have no grades, no annoying University stuff, but we still have this structure and ladder of power and 2-year deadline that makes it feel like a "Camping Master's Degree". I'll have had a class on outdoor cooking, using a hole as a toilet, and luggage carrying, but not much more. :)
So, how are Margo and school in general? Gee, I'm going to sound like dad here-- "So, hey, what classes are you taking? Are you still in engineering?" In 2 years I'll still think you're in engineering even if you're in art or something.
I'm sorry I couldn't send any real presents--I sent what's here. I figure the bracelets are manly because they're made of camel hair, and camel's spit and are hairy. Plus, if anyone asks, you can say it protects you from the evil eye which, from what I hear, is pretty bad.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
***********************************************************************************
Sharon,
Well, since they don't really have Christmas here, I'm using the UW cards I brought from home. I hope all is well with you. It's only November 13th or so, but I haven't heard anything from you other than Mom's reports.
I'm on my last day here at Gypjak. I've had so much more success with my family recently. I tested well in Turkmen, so I've been more confident. Now I have to go, and PC policy is that I can't leave my new site for 3 months--even to visit country nationals. Thumbs down!! So I think I'll be in a bit of a slump for the first month at least in Balkanabat.
I've been meaning to tell you that your skirt is about the best skirt ever! It's exactly what I'm supposed to have. I've had two dresses made here, but they're pretty traditional and conservative. Anyway, I feel like I fit in okay here, and I now think a lot about the work we're doing.
I definitely realize it's not the toughing it out that makes people leave, but rather the Peace Corps falling off its pedestal. Everyone thinks it such a life-changing, monumental thing to do, but really it's just like anything else. Anyone can make it through.
My mom here has been out of town (a rare occurrence here) for 2 or 3 days, so I got to do some cooking and a bit of "servant work" for my dad. He's actually a cool guy and would never ask me to do anything, but I felt responsible as the only girl. I'm going to take lessons in Turkmen sewing, etc. at my permanent site.
Well, this is sort of a Christmas card, so I'll apologize for the obvious lack of cool presents. :) If any of the stuff I sent appeals to you, fight for it. I made the bag with the zipper for you, though! It's a very early sewing attempt. I was still trying to work the pedals correctly. Anyway, good thoughts to you, and have a merry Christmas! Tell every family member who cares that I'm doing well, and make it sound sincere and personal. :) Miss you!
Love,
Kari
Nov 8, 2004
November 8 letter
11/8/04
Dear Alice,
Well, here I am sitting on the floor (pillows are our only furniture) on my last week with my family. Right now my crazy grandma, that they claim is 83, is muttering and wandering around flipping on and off lights whenever she sees need. She’s the superhero of light switches. As soon as it starts getting dark, there she is. If she were 83, she’d have had my mom at age 60 or so, so I think she’s more like 65. The women here age very quickly. I told grandma (in the states) it’s probably the lack of iodine but I think it’s more like constant work outside in the sun or bent over a sewing machine. The women, once they are married, cover their hair always, which doesn’t help them look young. The strange thing is the young people look old also. We mistake 12 or 13 year-old girls for 22 year-olds. They don’t have clothes for young people. They just have very small adult clothes.
My house here in Gypjak is right out of a National Geographic magazine. The animals wake me up in the morning (usually a rooster/cow duet at about 6:30 am) and my sisters run down the street and hug me when I come home every day. My mother makes bread every 2-3 days which consists of sticking bread to the wall of an outdoor oven with her bare hands. The women work all day and all evening preparing food, cleaning, and taking care of the animals. The...
(my grandma just came up and checked my temperature and kissed me on the cheek)
...the men go to work but are used to such a different level of hard labor. The men are perfectly comfortable going to any house of a friend or neighbor and accepting food service and tea any time of the day. My father here is one of the nicest Turkmen men and still rarely spends time at home unless he’s watching TV.
The kids are very happy here and love any attention I give them. Their education is far behind kids in the states but for such a vast number of reasons that it’s hard to find things in schools to pinpoint and work on changing. Kids copy to be nice to each other to the extent that all homework is identical. The teachers let the best students call out every answer and tell without embarrassment who the ‘lazy' or ‘stupid’ students are right in front of them. The kids have very little creativity and even art class is basically copying pictures of famous paintings.
We’ve had trouble getting used to the way the government works here but the longer I’m here the more I learn. I should just accept it as a learning tool. We’re in a very pivotal time in this country’s history and we can’t do anything but watch. Our frustration will end up lying more in things like gender inequality that we see on a very personal level or the trials of starting programs that the people don’t join. There are so many people that don’t understand why we’re here. They are told and believe that they are an advanced country. People ask which is better, America or Turkmenistan. They ask if they have ‘said household item’ in America. They tell me Turkmen language is the most difficult in the world (it’s not). I want to explain that we volunteer to help developing nations and what that means, but we’re here to gain trust, not make enemies. Politics is off-limits and many are appalled at my dislike of Pres. Bush. (Them's fightin’ words?) What I realize is that Peace Corps people quit not because they’re not tough enough, but because not only is it hard to know why we’re here and what to do, but we’ll never know if the things we did made any measurable difference. I could co-teach here and give my counterpart a day off here and there, or I could increase literacy by great margins. We just won’t know if our programs help. For goal-driven Americans that’s a difficult proposition.
Music here is also in a sense developing. The country is encouraging going back to traditional musical instruments instead of Western which is ‘fun’ to say the least but I think there are ways to teach Western music if students have the desire. My school in Balkanabat is quite wealthy compared to the village so I’ll have to assess everything again when I get there.
Well, I hope this was information you’d like to hear! If you want, you can type it up on karianderson.blogspot.com and add to my small collection! Best wishes and thoughts! Tell Stew and Andrew I say “hi!”
Love, Kari
Dear Alice,
Well, here I am sitting on the floor (pillows are our only furniture) on my last week with my family. Right now my crazy grandma, that they claim is 83, is muttering and wandering around flipping on and off lights whenever she sees need. She’s the superhero of light switches. As soon as it starts getting dark, there she is. If she were 83, she’d have had my mom at age 60 or so, so I think she’s more like 65. The women here age very quickly. I told grandma (in the states) it’s probably the lack of iodine but I think it’s more like constant work outside in the sun or bent over a sewing machine. The women, once they are married, cover their hair always, which doesn’t help them look young. The strange thing is the young people look old also. We mistake 12 or 13 year-old girls for 22 year-olds. They don’t have clothes for young people. They just have very small adult clothes.
My house here in Gypjak is right out of a National Geographic magazine. The animals wake me up in the morning (usually a rooster/cow duet at about 6:30 am) and my sisters run down the street and hug me when I come home every day. My mother makes bread every 2-3 days which consists of sticking bread to the wall of an outdoor oven with her bare hands. The women work all day and all evening preparing food, cleaning, and taking care of the animals. The...
(my grandma just came up and checked my temperature and kissed me on the cheek)
...the men go to work but are used to such a different level of hard labor. The men are perfectly comfortable going to any house of a friend or neighbor and accepting food service and tea any time of the day. My father here is one of the nicest Turkmen men and still rarely spends time at home unless he’s watching TV.
The kids are very happy here and love any attention I give them. Their education is far behind kids in the states but for such a vast number of reasons that it’s hard to find things in schools to pinpoint and work on changing. Kids copy to be nice to each other to the extent that all homework is identical. The teachers let the best students call out every answer and tell without embarrassment who the ‘lazy' or ‘stupid’ students are right in front of them. The kids have very little creativity and even art class is basically copying pictures of famous paintings.
We’ve had trouble getting used to the way the government works here but the longer I’m here the more I learn. I should just accept it as a learning tool. We’re in a very pivotal time in this country’s history and we can’t do anything but watch. Our frustration will end up lying more in things like gender inequality that we see on a very personal level or the trials of starting programs that the people don’t join. There are so many people that don’t understand why we’re here. They are told and believe that they are an advanced country. People ask which is better, America or Turkmenistan. They ask if they have ‘said household item’ in America. They tell me Turkmen language is the most difficult in the world (it’s not). I want to explain that we volunteer to help developing nations and what that means, but we’re here to gain trust, not make enemies. Politics is off-limits and many are appalled at my dislike of Pres. Bush. (Them's fightin’ words?) What I realize is that Peace Corps people quit not because they’re not tough enough, but because not only is it hard to know why we’re here and what to do, but we’ll never know if the things we did made any measurable difference. I could co-teach here and give my counterpart a day off here and there, or I could increase literacy by great margins. We just won’t know if our programs help. For goal-driven Americans that’s a difficult proposition.
Music here is also in a sense developing. The country is encouraging going back to traditional musical instruments instead of Western which is ‘fun’ to say the least but I think there are ways to teach Western music if students have the desire. My school in Balkanabat is quite wealthy compared to the village so I’ll have to assess everything again when I get there.
Well, I hope this was information you’d like to hear! If you want, you can type it up on karianderson.blogspot.com and add to my small collection! Best wishes and thoughts! Tell Stew and Andrew I say “hi!”
Love, Kari
Nov 7, 2004
Essay #6 (Flies)
My sister's bride price party was beautiful! The guests loved it. My sister was great.
But each of the 50 guests left behind 12 flies, and they all wanted to live in my room. I had a little breakdown and swatted about 50 flies while my family, no doubt, sat in the other room discussing how strange Americans are. Exhausted, I finally went to sleep only to wake up to a house once again free of flies.
Dead, you ask? No, I later found out that what I had thought was a strange dancing ritual is really a fly-clearing technique. My first night in my house the women had appeared in my room and had waved scarves in the air while walking the length of the room towards the door. Evidently they also performed the fly dance after my sister's bride price party and successfully removed the entire population of flies in Turkmenistan in a few short minutes.
I can just picture them wondering why this strange girl wants to keep the dead flies instead of just waving them out with scarves like any normal person.
They are used to flies, unfortunately, since flies are present at every meal and on every animal they own. Telling a Turkmen woman to prepare food cleanly is like telling her to serve only food prepared entirely under a mosquito net in covered cups with straws to a family hiding under blankets in a very warm room.
But each of the 50 guests left behind 12 flies, and they all wanted to live in my room. I had a little breakdown and swatted about 50 flies while my family, no doubt, sat in the other room discussing how strange Americans are. Exhausted, I finally went to sleep only to wake up to a house once again free of flies.
Dead, you ask? No, I later found out that what I had thought was a strange dancing ritual is really a fly-clearing technique. My first night in my house the women had appeared in my room and had waved scarves in the air while walking the length of the room towards the door. Evidently they also performed the fly dance after my sister's bride price party and successfully removed the entire population of flies in Turkmenistan in a few short minutes.
I can just picture them wondering why this strange girl wants to keep the dead flies instead of just waving them out with scarves like any normal person.
They are used to flies, unfortunately, since flies are present at every meal and on every animal they own. Telling a Turkmen woman to prepare food cleanly is like telling her to serve only food prepared entirely under a mosquito net in covered cups with straws to a family hiding under blankets in a very warm room.
Nov 5, 2004
Essay #5 (Transportation)
The newest fad here in Turkmenistan is lane dividers on the highway. Previously, I marveled at the smooth drivers that swerved every which direction to pass slow traffic on this road with unofficial speed limits and bribe prices. Now, with lane markers, I can see which lane we're not in. The long drives from city to city are all done by taxi (any car on the road you desire to flag down) or Marshutka, a big private van usually without shocks (likewise, flagged down). I love the convenience of picking up a ride anywhere but often feel like the drivers may want more than 5000 Manat, as I've had several hand-holding attempts and some lively discussions about the price. "How much?", I say after getting in. "What do you mean how much?" and a big, gold-toothed smile.
I haven't sampled trains, but if they're anything like Russia, I'll be enjoying either a drunk man, a snoring man, or a drunk, snoring man in my cabin at all times.
Walking would be the transportation favorite in most cases, but the sun makes long walks unbearable. A few people here have bikes, but they aren't used often. Motorcycles with side cars, (I haven't seen a motorcycle without a sidecar yet), are mostly for fun, and I'm not allowed to ride them anywhere.
The crazy thing is--there are airplanes that fly in-country. The planes are new and trustworthy, and flights are about $1.50 anywhere in the country. The trouble is finding a ticket in the world of family favors. A taxi from Balkan to Ashgabat takes 4 hours and costs $4.00. A flight takes 45 minutes and costs $1.50. Go figure.
I'm sure taxi story after taxi story could be written by anyone. Half of our lives here are taken up finding, bargaining for, and riding public transportation.
Next to taxis are buses. For the less wealthy and more time-available customer, a bus can be taken anywhere in our Welayat for 1,000 manat (10 cents). The buses range from a normal European packed-with-people bus to a downright frightening scabies-ridden deathtrap with holes in the floor and actual chairs sitting on wooden planks driven by the oldest living Turkmen in a country without prescription glasses. When buses pass mosques here, everyone does a short prayer by sweeping their hands across their face. They do it out of reverance for the mosque, and I do it to get help surviving the ride from anyone who'll listen to a bus full of Muslims. Of course, the bus driver does it long enough to take his hands from the wheel so the bus can slowly veer into a lane.
I haven't sampled trains, but if they're anything like Russia, I'll be enjoying either a drunk man, a snoring man, or a drunk, snoring man in my cabin at all times.
Walking would be the transportation favorite in most cases, but the sun makes long walks unbearable. A few people here have bikes, but they aren't used often. Motorcycles with side cars, (I haven't seen a motorcycle without a sidecar yet), are mostly for fun, and I'm not allowed to ride them anywhere.
The crazy thing is--there are airplanes that fly in-country. The planes are new and trustworthy, and flights are about $1.50 anywhere in the country. The trouble is finding a ticket in the world of family favors. A taxi from Balkan to Ashgabat takes 4 hours and costs $4.00. A flight takes 45 minutes and costs $1.50. Go figure.
I'm sure taxi story after taxi story could be written by anyone. Half of our lives here are taken up finding, bargaining for, and riding public transportation.
Next to taxis are buses. For the less wealthy and more time-available customer, a bus can be taken anywhere in our Welayat for 1,000 manat (10 cents). The buses range from a normal European packed-with-people bus to a downright frightening scabies-ridden deathtrap with holes in the floor and actual chairs sitting on wooden planks driven by the oldest living Turkmen in a country without prescription glasses. When buses pass mosques here, everyone does a short prayer by sweeping their hands across their face. They do it out of reverance for the mosque, and I do it to get help surviving the ride from anyone who'll listen to a bus full of Muslims. Of course, the bus driver does it long enough to take his hands from the wheel so the bus can slowly veer into a lane.
Nov 3, 2004
Essay #4 (Sewing)
Watching my sister sew makes me question the value of money. Here I am able to do little more than think with my college degree, and I can't imagine learning the intricacy of stitchwork. These patterns of thick, entirely stitch-filled swirls are worn as borders on the necks of traditional Turkmen dresses as well as around the ankle-cuffs of womens undergarments (and yes, their undergarments reach their ankles).
The dresses are simple, always covering shoulder and elbow, with a few different options of neckline. The popular fabric currently has very small flower print, though Americans have a hard time believing they could stand a full dress of small-pattern flowers. We buy the material for a few dollars at the bazaar, and for a few more dollars a sibling or family friend assembles a koynek. Some come out like potato sacks and others like princess gowns. In the villages this is the only acceptable attire. For formal affairs, such as a wedding, they bring out the similarly shaped dress made of decorative felt. While dresses on the whole met with some resistance, we soon found that if we had to wear long sleeves and skirts to the ankle, this was certainly the best and most comfortable option.
Men wear suits to everything, and boys from kindergarten on wear full suits to school. Too bad their behavior doesn't match their attire! Ironing is very "in" here, of course done every morning by the women of the house. The men wake up and shave themselves (which I believe if women could do for them, they would), returning inside to warmly ironed dress shirts and a hot breakfast. At school everyone's appearance is of utmost importance as can be observed on the Turkmen television station. Cleaned and pressed without a creative stitch to be found. If only the women could stitch art as opposed to well-established patterns, this place could make some money! Until then we'll all just wear matching outfits and call it a day!
The dresses are simple, always covering shoulder and elbow, with a few different options of neckline. The popular fabric currently has very small flower print, though Americans have a hard time believing they could stand a full dress of small-pattern flowers. We buy the material for a few dollars at the bazaar, and for a few more dollars a sibling or family friend assembles a koynek. Some come out like potato sacks and others like princess gowns. In the villages this is the only acceptable attire. For formal affairs, such as a wedding, they bring out the similarly shaped dress made of decorative felt. While dresses on the whole met with some resistance, we soon found that if we had to wear long sleeves and skirts to the ankle, this was certainly the best and most comfortable option.
Men wear suits to everything, and boys from kindergarten on wear full suits to school. Too bad their behavior doesn't match their attire! Ironing is very "in" here, of course done every morning by the women of the house. The men wake up and shave themselves (which I believe if women could do for them, they would), returning inside to warmly ironed dress shirts and a hot breakfast. At school everyone's appearance is of utmost importance as can be observed on the Turkmen television station. Cleaned and pressed without a creative stitch to be found. If only the women could stitch art as opposed to well-established patterns, this place could make some money! Until then we'll all just wear matching outfits and call it a day!
Nov 2, 2004
November 2 letter
Well, since that letter I’ve had another interesting experience. Went to a birthday party for a 16 year-old and the whole neighborhood came. Turns out—at your party you still serve the men first, and when each of them has food, you serve the women. Then you and your friends sit down Cinderella-style to eat the more plentiful foods (no fruits/vegetables) in the back room of the kitchen. I hate men here. I find myself falling into the same patterns.
Today was pretty enjoyable. My mother made fresh bread, which involves sticking your arms literally inside an oven and sticking dough to a wall. It hangs there and cooks! We all sat around and scarfed fresh bread and talked about our visiting half-crazy grandma. She can’t hear so someone always has to get up and yell right in her ear to answer her questions. While I was sewing once she asked me to mend something quick and then patted me on the head and kissed my cheek in thanks upon completion. I don’t think she really knows who I am though!
I’m used to the food again and haven’t been as sick as some other people. I’ve been annoyed with my American group-mates for various reasons, but I’m starting to see that’s inevitable. It’s how you deal with it that counts.
Well, I’m off to sleep. This will be dropped in the mail on the 3rd, so you’ll be seeing it hopefully before Thanksgiving!
[Rec’d 11/20]
Today was pretty enjoyable. My mother made fresh bread, which involves sticking your arms literally inside an oven and sticking dough to a wall. It hangs there and cooks! We all sat around and scarfed fresh bread and talked about our visiting half-crazy grandma. She can’t hear so someone always has to get up and yell right in her ear to answer her questions. While I was sewing once she asked me to mend something quick and then patted me on the head and kissed my cheek in thanks upon completion. I don’t think she really knows who I am though!
I’m used to the food again and haven’t been as sick as some other people. I’ve been annoyed with my American group-mates for various reasons, but I’m starting to see that’s inevitable. It’s how you deal with it that counts.
Well, I’m off to sleep. This will be dropped in the mail on the 3rd, so you’ll be seeing it hopefully before Thanksgiving!
[Rec’d 11/20]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
