January 31, 2004
A letter to a volunteer who had to go home early:
I was happy to hear all your great news, though of course to me your apartment sounds like something on Mars. You said that readjustment will be hard. I know you are right, and since Christmas I’ve been in a groove of really enjoying my life here, but last night we had guests over, and as I was faced with another evening of drunk people handing me handfuls of noodles and greasy glasses of pink cola, I had to rethink why I am here. We won’t even talk about the horse intestines, OK? Or the fact that my host father, who is diabetic and going to the hospital in two days because his heart has been racing, was being heavily pressured to drink by all the guests and even his WIFE, all of who know that drinking alcohol for him is the equivalent of taking poison. He did end up drinking, in excess. This should all be making you feel great about living in America.
A letter to a volunteer who had to go home early:
I was happy to hear all your great news, though of course to me your apartment sounds like something on Mars. You said that readjustment will be hard. I know you are right, and since Christmas I’ve been in a groove of really enjoying my life here, but last night we had guests over, and as I was faced with another evening of drunk people handing me handfuls of noodles and greasy glasses of pink cola, I had to rethink why I am here. We won’t even talk about the horse intestines, OK? Or the fact that my host father, who is diabetic and going to the hospital in two days because his heart has been racing, was being heavily pressured to drink by all the guests and even his WIFE, all of who know that drinking alcohol for him is the equivalent of taking poison. He did end up drinking, in excess. This should all be making you feel great about living in America.
January 22, 2004
I went to Talas today with three eleventh graders: Mirbek, Nargeeza, and Aiperi. We did some things on the internet at the IREX center, but the connection is so slow as to really be almost useless.
NOTE: I would like to set up some internet penpals. Do you think you could find about twelve people who would be willing to correspond by internet with students who have low to intermediate English skills, who may be able to email about once or twice a month? I can’t guarantee how well it would work out, but we could try.
I heard some unexpected and great news today. Do you remember- Nargeeza’s parents had not planned to allow her to study in Bishkek, because their second-oldest son died there a few years ago, and because they were so hysterical after Almaz’ death. That left Nargeeza studying in Talas Nargeeza told me today that she is going to study in Bishkek. As it turns out, I had some part in changing their minds! On New Year’s Eve, I had paid them a visit. (I might have told you about this visit, because Gulzada again broke down in tears about all the grief and awfulness that has stricken their family.) I remember asking Gulzada about Nargeeza, and where she would be studying. I remember speaking strongly about what a bright intelligent girl Nargeeza is, and that I hoped she would be able to study in Bishkek. Nargeeza said today that it was because of that conversation that her parents change her mind. It was such a good piece of news. I forgot to say that when she told me this she turned suspiciously red and splotchy, as if she was trying to suppress an emotional attack of relief. I worry a lot about Nargeeza. She is so hidden within herself. She has this cover of coolness and poise, but I think underneath she is hurting. She wants to study English, but she doesn’t have the confidence or the oompf or something to come bother me during free moments at school about extra work or just to chat, the way Mirbek does. Everything I think about what might be going on with her is intuition, because she doesn’t tell me any of this. I think her confidence was shaken by Mirbek’s recent successes, with ACCELS and with the olympiad. Before, she was the star English pupil, but now she has to share with Mirbek. I try to draw her out, but she is often engrossed in talking with her friends. I understand this, too- maybe she doesn’t want to look like the teacher’s pet. As a result, I feel very sorry that I seem to have lost her. Of course I wished she’d talk to me more for my sake, but also for hers. She is so VERY shy (I can totally relate to this) but I’m afraid that she’s had so many hard experiences -first her older brother’s death, then her nephew’s death, and having her personality basically squished by her strong-willed mother and the Kyrgyz cultural trait of girl-child domestic servitude- that she is lacking some basic capacity to assert herself enough to make her own way in life.
I went to Talas today with three eleventh graders: Mirbek, Nargeeza, and Aiperi. We did some things on the internet at the IREX center, but the connection is so slow as to really be almost useless.
NOTE: I would like to set up some internet penpals. Do you think you could find about twelve people who would be willing to correspond by internet with students who have low to intermediate English skills, who may be able to email about once or twice a month? I can’t guarantee how well it would work out, but we could try.
I heard some unexpected and great news today. Do you remember- Nargeeza’s parents had not planned to allow her to study in Bishkek, because their second-oldest son died there a few years ago, and because they were so hysterical after Almaz’ death. That left Nargeeza studying in Talas Nargeeza told me today that she is going to study in Bishkek. As it turns out, I had some part in changing their minds! On New Year’s Eve, I had paid them a visit. (I might have told you about this visit, because Gulzada again broke down in tears about all the grief and awfulness that has stricken their family.) I remember asking Gulzada about Nargeeza, and where she would be studying. I remember speaking strongly about what a bright intelligent girl Nargeeza is, and that I hoped she would be able to study in Bishkek. Nargeeza said today that it was because of that conversation that her parents change her mind. It was such a good piece of news. I forgot to say that when she told me this she turned suspiciously red and splotchy, as if she was trying to suppress an emotional attack of relief. I worry a lot about Nargeeza. She is so hidden within herself. She has this cover of coolness and poise, but I think underneath she is hurting. She wants to study English, but she doesn’t have the confidence or the oompf or something to come bother me during free moments at school about extra work or just to chat, the way Mirbek does. Everything I think about what might be going on with her is intuition, because she doesn’t tell me any of this. I think her confidence was shaken by Mirbek’s recent successes, with ACCELS and with the olympiad. Before, she was the star English pupil, but now she has to share with Mirbek. I try to draw her out, but she is often engrossed in talking with her friends. I understand this, too- maybe she doesn’t want to look like the teacher’s pet. As a result, I feel very sorry that I seem to have lost her. Of course I wished she’d talk to me more for my sake, but also for hers. She is so VERY shy (I can totally relate to this) but I’m afraid that she’s had so many hard experiences -first her older brother’s death, then her nephew’s death, and having her personality basically squished by her strong-willed mother and the Kyrgyz cultural trait of girl-child domestic servitude- that she is lacking some basic capacity to assert herself enough to make her own way in life.
January 19, 2004
Lots of nice things happened last week. I gave an English lesson to a woman, Tamara, who really, really wants to learn English. It’s silly, actually, for me to be teaching her, because there are plenty of local people who are qualified to teach the ABC’s, and it’s not the most interesting thing for me to teach. She wanted to study for two hours everyday! I said, one hour, once a week, and we’ll see how it goes. She is inspired, I think, because she has a sibling who emigrated to Germany, and from this fact she’s acquired a taste for a bigger world. Like all women my age, she is married and has children.
The other exciting thing that happened was that I set up an exchange with Kannekay, the other main English teacher here. She can speak with me conversationally, but she isn’t so qualified to actually teach English. However, once Essengul retires, she’ll be the only English teacher, so it’s definitely worth it for me to put lots of time and effort into teaching her as much as I can. I had spoken with her before, but we hadn’t gotten to the point of English lessons. In retrospect, I was probably too passive about finding her to teach, but I think it’s good that it’s happening now on her own initiative. Anyway, the fabulous part is that in return she’s going to give me komos lessons! Komos is the national three-string instrument. It turns out that there are komos lessons every week for young girls (boys must not be interested) at the second school. So Kannekey taught me for a forty-five minutes before the official lesson began. The problem is that neither of us own a komos, so we’ll have to continue to borrow them from these girls. My next lesson is Tuesday. It’s a simple instrument, not anywhere near as complicated as a guitar. If I really keep learning it, I’ll try to acquire one.
I had another evening with Rosa and her family. During the meal, I talked with her husband about world war II, otherwise known here as “The Great Patriotic War Against Fascism.” It’s usually news to my students that the Americans were involved in this war at all. The textbooks portray the Russians and Our Heroic Grandfathers (the good guys) versus the Fascists. I told him about how during WW2 my grandparents had to flee then-eastern Prussia from the advancing Russians. His response was “Why? Russians are good! They didn’t hurt anyone.” This led to a fruitful discussion of differing versions of history as presented in textbooks. I think it was eye-opening for him. It sure was for me. I’m fond of this family. I helped their youngest son, Stalbek, with his English reading. He’s having major problems learning English, possibly because Essengul actually teaches class only 20% of the time. At some point in the evening, Kalik (Rosa’s husband) asked me whether I am ever !
sad and miss my family. He started talking to me like I couldn’t understand Kyrgyz. He said “We… family…. we” (accompanied by hand gestures designating his family) “……like…….you” (more hand gestures). It was sweet, then he got kind of bashful. It’s nice to be appreciated.
One teaching thing- I started a few “dialogue journals” with some of the motivated students. We write each other letters back and forth. It’s a good experiment in self-expression for them, and it’s fun for me too.
Lots of nice things happened last week. I gave an English lesson to a woman, Tamara, who really, really wants to learn English. It’s silly, actually, for me to be teaching her, because there are plenty of local people who are qualified to teach the ABC’s, and it’s not the most interesting thing for me to teach. She wanted to study for two hours everyday! I said, one hour, once a week, and we’ll see how it goes. She is inspired, I think, because she has a sibling who emigrated to Germany, and from this fact she’s acquired a taste for a bigger world. Like all women my age, she is married and has children.
The other exciting thing that happened was that I set up an exchange with Kannekay, the other main English teacher here. She can speak with me conversationally, but she isn’t so qualified to actually teach English. However, once Essengul retires, she’ll be the only English teacher, so it’s definitely worth it for me to put lots of time and effort into teaching her as much as I can. I had spoken with her before, but we hadn’t gotten to the point of English lessons. In retrospect, I was probably too passive about finding her to teach, but I think it’s good that it’s happening now on her own initiative. Anyway, the fabulous part is that in return she’s going to give me komos lessons! Komos is the national three-string instrument. It turns out that there are komos lessons every week for young girls (boys must not be interested) at the second school. So Kannekey taught me for a forty-five minutes before the official lesson began. The problem is that neither of us own a komos, so we’ll have to continue to borrow them from these girls. My next lesson is Tuesday. It’s a simple instrument, not anywhere near as complicated as a guitar. If I really keep learning it, I’ll try to acquire one.
I had another evening with Rosa and her family. During the meal, I talked with her husband about world war II, otherwise known here as “The Great Patriotic War Against Fascism.” It’s usually news to my students that the Americans were involved in this war at all. The textbooks portray the Russians and Our Heroic Grandfathers (the good guys) versus the Fascists. I told him about how during WW2 my grandparents had to flee then-eastern Prussia from the advancing Russians. His response was “Why? Russians are good! They didn’t hurt anyone.” This led to a fruitful discussion of differing versions of history as presented in textbooks. I think it was eye-opening for him. It sure was for me. I’m fond of this family. I helped their youngest son, Stalbek, with his English reading. He’s having major problems learning English, possibly because Essengul actually teaches class only 20% of the time. At some point in the evening, Kalik (Rosa’s husband) asked me whether I am ever !
sad and miss my family. He started talking to me like I couldn’t understand Kyrgyz. He said “We… family…. we” (accompanied by hand gestures designating his family) “……like…….you” (more hand gestures). It was sweet, then he got kind of bashful. It’s nice to be appreciated.
One teaching thing- I started a few “dialogue journals” with some of the motivated students. We write each other letters back and forth. It’s a good experiment in self-expression for them, and it’s fun for me too.
5. January, 2004
Hello from Bishkek!
I forgot to tell you that I went to the teacher's New Year's celebration, I went with my host parents (they got invited because they are village hot shots). When it was my parents turn to say the toast, my host father said the toast, and then my host mother sang while I accompanied her on flute. I also was asked to get out my flute for about 30 drunk guests on New Year's day. They don't really get the whole flute thing, but they like it that I can play some Kyrgyz ditties. Everything is good with my host family. I gave them gifts for New Year's, mostly regifted stuff from America, but they were really excited, and our relations seem to be mended. I gave my host mother the headscarf, Mom, because I had already given Essengul and her family a bunch of stuff. I gave away a lot of the disposable cameras from St. Andrew, and those were a BIG hit. I got pictures developed of Essengul's new grandbaby and they should be in the mail soon.
Hello from Bishkek!
I forgot to tell you that I went to the teacher's New Year's celebration, I went with my host parents (they got invited because they are village hot shots). When it was my parents turn to say the toast, my host father said the toast, and then my host mother sang while I accompanied her on flute. I also was asked to get out my flute for about 30 drunk guests on New Year's day. They don't really get the whole flute thing, but they like it that I can play some Kyrgyz ditties. Everything is good with my host family. I gave them gifts for New Year's, mostly regifted stuff from America, but they were really excited, and our relations seem to be mended. I gave my host mother the headscarf, Mom, because I had already given Essengul and her family a bunch of stuff. I gave away a lot of the disposable cameras from St. Andrew, and those were a BIG hit. I got pictures developed of Essengul's new grandbaby and they should be in the mail soon.
