It’s DECEMBER?!

Time has certainly been flying since my arrival at site. I can’t believe a month has already vanished! While I’m fully aware that the first winter is often considered the hardest time of your service, I’m already beginning to wish there were more of it! Let’s hope that sentiment doesn’t evaporate as quickly as November did.

I’m famous!
For a couple weeks now, rumor had it a reporter for the local paper was trying to track me down. She finally found me last Monday. I huddled next to my counterpart (without whom an interview would consist of “My name is Denise. I am 25. I like running and reading. I like Kazakhstan. The end.”) and dove head first into an interview. I told her what I’m up to, why I came to Kazakhstan, and information about Peace Corps. Let’s hope I have my facts straight!

On Friday, the article came out. I thought, heck, I might get a couple paragraphs tucked in somewhere inconspicuous. No, it’s half a page, complete with a 3x5 picture of me and my counterpart. Maybe by the end of my service I can go back and actually read what she wrote about me!

As you’d also expect in small-town America, people are pleased to tell me they saw my picture in the paper and read all about me. What you might not get so readily, though, is too much honesty. “You look fat and old in that picture. You look much better in person.” Uh, thank you? I’ll haveta see if I can get a picture of said article posted on here one of these days, so you can judge for yourself!

Zwieback
One peaceful evening, I sat at the kitchen table writing new Russian words into a little notebook I’ve got. Meanwhile, my host mother cut a loaf of bread into cubes, spread them on a pan, and popped ‘em in the oven. Who knew such a simple act would incite the dialog that followed. She was making сухарь and wanted to know the English translation. In my dictionary, we find “zwieback; rusk”. She latches on to “zwieback” and asks if she’s pronouncing it correctly. If you’re like me, this word is beyond all recognition. I tell her I’ve never heard this word; I have no idea if she’s pronouncing it correctly. I try to appease her by looking up “crouton”. Once she sees the Russian translation, she ponders it for a minute before insisting zwieback is in the oven. Not croutons. Croutons involve eggs and milk. I again explain that, to my knowledge, no one uses this word, “zwieback”. Well, she decides, then you must teach them! You must learn this word, go back to the US, and tell everyone! Demand it at cafés! She goes farther and insists I write this new word in my little notebook. “I’m learning Russian,” I tell her, laughing. “Not English!” “Write it down!” she commands.

All this while, she’s still confused as to why I do not know the word “zwieback”. Thinking a conversation with my counterpart will solve the problem, my host mother gives her a call. As my counterpart and I have become fond of doing, she blames it on the British, guessing it’s a term only they use. I don’t dare show my host mother the cover of my dictionary: “The only comprehensive English-Russian, Russian-English dictionary based on American English”. But even without knowing that, she ends the conversation with my counterpart, still convinced I ought to introduce America to this wonderful word that she thinks is so fun to say.

The next step in an effort to clear up the confusion was a visit to the world wide web. I check with Merriam-Webster, and sure enough, the definition of zwieback is there. Further confirmation I ought to know this word. I concede it is indeed an English word, and even write the darn thing in my notebook.

In the next day or two, I talked with my parents, curious to see if they know of zwieback. My mom didn’t remember ever hearing this word, but my dad had at least a foggy memory of it. “Some type of bread, yeah?” Shoot! There are people who know what it is! I told them of my recent vocabulary lesson, and we decided there’s a chance a person could find zwieback in a grocery store. Later on, I told my host mother that my dad knew of this word. Her reaction: “Your dad – Superman!” You didn’t know being superman was so easy, did you, Dad? : )

And a little note about “croutons”… during dinner one evening, she proceeds to make гренок – the translation we had found for crouton. She beats condensed milk, a little sugar, and salt into four eggs. Then she dips slices of white bread into the batter before frying them to a nice golden brown. You know, French toast. As I munch on them, I think to myself, “Hmm… not croutons. But I’m gonna let this sleeping dog lie.”

My New Running Buddies!
Mid-afternoon, as snow falls, I tell my family I’ll go running soon. My host mother has declared that my little brother needs more exercise, so he’s commanded to join me. I change into running attire, and when I go to leave, I see my host mother is also looking rather sporty! She’s going to run, too, she says! Rock on! The three of us walk over to the stadium, where I was joined in spurts by either my host mother or little brother. I must say, MUCH preferable to the companion I had on an earlier run! I think we’re in for lots of snow soon, though, as I sit watching huge flakes fall. So, we’ll see how long our running days last…

Olympiad
Without making this blog post too much longer, I’ll toot the horn of some of my students! I travelled to a nearby city with another English teacher and two eighth grade girls for an English Olympiad. It consisted of three stages – a grammar test, “situations”, and “film”. For situations, they were randomly paired up, given ten minutes to prepare a dialog, and one minute to present. In film, they individually watched a movie clip without sound, and then had to produce their own script. Interesting competition, consisting of 8th to 11th grade students, obviously with really varied skill levels. Ah- and this was held at a college. Gives them a chance to see the best and brightest English students in the area. Prizes were given by grade, and the girls from my school placed second and third! Woo hoo!