Ins and Outs of Another Week in KZ

Part of me feels like I’ve got nothing to report; another part feels like I’ve got tons to report. Depends on whether daily life is “reportable”, I suppose. I hope you enjoy hearing the ins and outs of my days as much as I relish hearing the details of life back in the States! Recently I’ve enjoyed a trip to the country’s capital, celebrated a birthday, and started teaching. But first, a story from today (well, yesterday, now that I'm posting this), Saturday, November 21, 2009.

Off and Running!
Since settling in at site, I’ve been able to run! My apartment is really close to a stadium, which includes a couple sets of bleachers, a basketball court, a soccer field, and a track encircling the field! So, while I’m still unfamiliar with my surroundings, I feel quite comfortable heading over and running in circles. I’m positive there’s no small amount of suspicion surrounding this strange girl who shows up several times throughout the week. Often there are people in the stadium; maybe working, maybe playing football (ahem, soccer), maybe just lounging about. The braver souls test out my Russian.

Today two such men walked in while I was jogging. I warily eyed the stride of the first, who soon joined me for a lap, happy to talk but struggling to keep up. My responses were mostly guttural “oh’s” and “mm’s”. On a good day it’d take much time and a good dictionary, but today there was no hope of understanding his slurs …except for one sentence: “I love running, but not after drinking vodka.” Oh, it makes me smile. And in an effort to set my mom’s mind at ease… hmm… all this training will enable me to run away from such men? Yeah. That explanation ought to do the trick…

But the story isn’t over. Man #2 enters the stadium and joins the wobbly one. They stand either in or near a small building near the gate, coming out when I jog by. Thankfully #2’s gait appears more stable. And I recognize him as someone I’ve spoken with before. Today again he calls out to me, with all but a few words flying right over my head. At first I wonder if they want to share some great advice about how vodka will improve my ability to run. I tell him I don’t drink, and he’s insistent that is not his intent. But he’s persistent, and now his message includes raising both arms in the air… like a celebratory move? Maybe he wants me to indicate when, yay, I’m done running today?! I contemplate trying a different gate for my exit but figure I’ll take the risk and pass by them once more. As I go to leave, man #2 waves me over. I hesitantly follow him around the corner of the building, walking over dozens of cigarette butts. He stops at a window and cups his hands to look inside, then motions for me to do the same. And inside… Ah ha! A weight-lifting machine! Sweet! I crack up inside, humored and thankful, but tell him “later.” I’m foolish enough to run alongside an inebriated man, but I’ve got sense to wait for a better day to let them show me their weight room.

Birthday Sweets
Despite being about as far away as possible from family and friends on my birthday, my day was wonderful, filled with lots of love both from family and friends here and at home. Of course, I also had more than my fill of sweets!

At school, I stuck around through the morning. During the break between the 2nd and 3rd periods, teachers gather for announcements. One announcement consisted of my school’s director presenting me with a cake, a card, and lots of Russian words I didn’t understand. Nowadays when I don’t have a clue what’s being said, I like to fabricate grandiose stories. If I hear my name in there, I just assume they’re complimenting me. Maybe this time she actually was? Either way, I gladly accepted the heart-shaped, bright-pink, half frosting/ half cake. Now if that won’t satisfy your sweet tooth…

After leaving school, I proceeded to confound people around town as I searched for винный камень - the only translation I’ve got for cream of tartar. (And as a hint to my fishbowl existence, the first shopkeeper knew it was my birthday. :) And my counterpart knew what I was looking for and where I looked, without getting any of that info from me.) Before actually looking at my recipe, I thought my grandma’s sugar cookies would be something for which I could actually get all the ingredients. But last on the list was this pesky cream of tartar. After walking about an hour (roundtrip) and asking employees of three stores – small, big, and biggest – I’m convinced cream of tartar is nowhere to be found in Shakhtinsk. But dang it, I was bent on baking cookies.

Lacking only one ingredient, I threw caution to the wind and followed the recipe where I could. Heck, the dough was still tasty enough for me to eat way too much before it actually became cookies. And those that did get to the oven weren’t bad – the texture was just a bit different. In fact, in only one day, they all disappeared. I’ll take that as a good sign.

Astana!
The day after my b-day, I went to the country’s capital with my host mother and her mother. After stopping at a couple clinics, we did some sightseeing. (One of the clinics is where my host mother worked in 2007. She got to visit with a couple friends there, and we actually ate lunch with women in what used to be her office. I am convinced that women of Kazakhstan always have in their back pocket enough food to cover the table. Always. Show up and they’ll feed you. Show up at home. Show up at work. It doesn’t matter. You’ll eat. A lot.)

Before describing the sightseeing bit, a sentence or two of history. Kazakhstan became an independent country in 1991. At first, the capital was Almaty, but in 1997, it was changed to Astana. At that time, Astana was a fairly small city. But in the last 12 years, they’ve sure been busy! In the new part of town, new, modern, beautiful buildings abound. In the center is a tower called Baiterek (translated: tree of life). My host mother and I paid the 500 tenge for a ride to the top. The highest you can get is 97 meters (no coincidence that it matches 1997). The tower is beautiful, as are the buildings surrounding it. If Karaganda is like a trip to the states, this part of Astana would have to be a trip to the future. Crazy to be in a place where dozens of huge buildings have been built in only the last 12 years. With snow covering the ground, it’s breathtaking. I can’t wait to see what it looks like in the summer, with professionally designed landscaping to add even more eye-appeal. Until I get some pictures posted on here, you can check out http://aboutkazakhstan.com/Astana_city.shtml if you're curious.

Oh yeah, teaching!
Maybe I should mention my job, eh? I feel like I really haven’t taught much. Thus far, I’ve team-taught with Tatyana, my official counterpart (CP). She’s a fierce teacher who is very serious about students studying and excelling in English, especially English grammar. Tatyana has an excellent grasp on the English language and knows English grammar like the back of her hand. Recognizing her strengths, I see my role as increasing talking time in the classroom, where students can actually apply their skills in conversation. Ah- and I should mention my school uses good textbooks, which is HUGE. We can actually use the exercises and texts, instead of having to revamp all the time, like I had to do in PST.

Early this next week, I will observe a lesson or two taught by other English teachers, with the intent of team-teaching with them later in the week. I’m looking forward to this, although I’m afraid this means I might actually be busy with work soon. I’ve come to love having gobs of free time. :) And to end this blog post, a few other things I’ve learned in the wondrous land of KZ…

Lessons from KZ
One cannot have too much free time. At least Denise can’t.
Forks can be used to spread butter on bread.
But heck, forks, spoons, knives… not necessary. The hands God gave you are perfectly capable of performing all those functions.
Whistling indoors equals a life of poverty.
Skype rocks.
Who you live with is infinitely more important than where you live or the amenities you’ve got there.
But having a shower and indoor toilet sure is nice.
Grandma’s sugar cookies are still sugary without cream of tartar.
I have the world’s greatest mom and dad.
Paper towels: not necessary. Toilet paper: necessary.
BYOTP (Bring your own toilet paper. It’s a lesson you learn quickly.)
God answers prayer.
Eating from a community bowl is bad for my waistline.
Eating from that community bowl won’t make you sick, but walking around the house sans socks will.
Just because you live as far away as possible doesn’t mean people forget about you.