Change of Heart

September 13, 2011

 

This just in: I LOVE CATS!!!!!

 

I never thought I would say that.  Never.  Felines have always been "just okay" to me. They have a snooty personality about them and they seem so… prissy.  You can't take a cat to the park, or expect it to protect you from intruders.  More often than not, they run away from your guests rather than going up to wag their tails at someone's feet.  Owning a cat seemed like it would just me a mutual coexistence.  Why would I buy food for something that would give me nothing in return?

 

For the past two days I've heard a rattling around my house. And Miti- my landlady's cat who has an affinity for my home- has been pawing around my cupboards more than usual.  At lunch she actually lunged into the cupboards uninvited… twice.  I threw her out and resolved to hate that cat for as long as humanly possible- it lasted two minutes.

 

Just fifteen minutes ago, I heard the rattling again.  Usually, it's at night, but it's mid day now.  I stopped my lesson planning and sat quiet as a mouse. Wouldn't you know it, the rattling WAS a mouse!

 

I ran to the door and opened it.  Miti was waiting- loyal as any dog I've ever met.  "Miti- get your butt in here!"

 

I showed her to the cupboard. Let me tell you, that girl's a pro.  I moved the food out. And before I could shift the glasses more than an inch, she was in, out, and at the door.  She turned to smile at me- mouse between her jaws. Mission accomplished.

 

So to the feline species: I owe you an apology.  I was not just in my assessment of your character.  From now on, I will appreciate you a little more.

The Big-C

September 11, 2011

 

Last week I was invited to a circumcision party. That's a new one.  I've been to weddings and birthdays and "Giving-the-Girl-to-Her-Fiancée's-Family parties" but somehow I made it a full year without an invite to a circumcision party.  Of course, I accepted.

 

The party started at 8PM, and an outside source told me circumcisions happen at 5PM in the Muslim tradition. When I saw the four-year-old running around playing with his friends as they popped balloons at 7:30PM, I thought "Oh, that went well.  Maybe they took care of his business a few weeks ago and are just now able to celebrate."

 

I was naive. 

 

Poor Diaz disappeared for a while around the 9 o'clock hour before the DJ announced that it was time to meet the man of the hour.  In came Diaz, perched on a palate being carried on two men's shoulders like Cleopatra.  He was in his full Kazakh dress: a beautiful white sequined linen shirt with a matching jacket and trousers, and a white fur hat, which drooped down just enough to shadow, but by no means hide, the steady stream of tears this pitiable boy was sobbing.  Sure enough, he had just been taken into the back room to become a real Muslim man.

 

I felt so… I don't know.  I stood there clapping to welcome him, like the other fifty or so partygoers, and I didn't know if I wanted to cry for him or if I was proud of him.  That little boy just became a man… and I got to be there for the transformation, oddly enough.

 

Never expected that from my Peace Corps experience.

First Bell

September 1, 2011

Today was the first day of school in all of Kazakhstan. It'll be my
second year teaching, but I've been moved to a new school two villages
over. I woke up early to make the morning commute, but somehow I got a
little carried away doing my newly washed hair. I looked at the clock
and it was 8:20… Shoot! The bus leaves in 20 minutes and I still have
to hike to the bus station!

I grabbed my things, rushed out the door, and jetted to the main road.
Two hundred meters from the bus station, I saw the village bus pass
by. "Son of a Nutcracker! I missed the bus!" It felt like I was in
the first grade again. Day One and I was already late for school!

Confused and with my tail between my legs, I approached one of the
loitering taxi drivers. "Sir, is there any chance there will be
another Koogershin bus passing through in the near future?" (Fingers
crossed.)

His finger directed me across the street where I saw a long blue bus
resting behind a tree. Checking my watch, I darted across the street
where the bus driver was checking the engine gauges.

8:42AM. "Sir, does your bus go to Koogershin?" "Yep." "Great. When do
you leave?" "Now." I climbed on the bus to join the one other
passenger as the bus driver asked, "You the American?"

"Yes, sir. That's me."

"Okay, good. We can go then. They told me not to leave without you."

Turns out the whole village knew I was coming… and that maybe I'd need
a little help catching the bus.

My New Favorite Holiday

August 30, 2011

Aite: A Muslim holiday to celebrate the end of Ramadan. Muslims have
been fasting for 30 days, and now, to celebrate, they spend three days
going house to house talking to friends and eating a ton of food.
(With no disrespect intended, it reminds me of Halloween for adults.
You walk around and can go into anyone's house that has the front gate
open. You ask them for tea, not candy, and you talk for a bit before
moving on to the next house.)

Yesterday I spent the entire afternoon at a friend's house cooking… or
watching her cook, to be more accurate. She told me some traditions
and I picked up on a few other things just from chatting with
neighbors and friends. The most important thing I learned was that
you have three days to visit seven friends' houses and wish them a
happy holiday.

I wanted to integrate, so that became my goal. Except, oh snap! I
only got one day of holiday before work began again. Seven houses, One
day. Could I do it?

The sun rose this morning and I was hesitant. I spent an hour at my
house just working up the guts to show up at a home unannounced. We
don't DO that in the States. I couldn't just show up at a house
uninvited and ask them to serve me tea and put their work and family
aside to chat with me. Sounds kinda rude, right?

Well, don't hold your breath because I did it. I went to the first
house, sat for tea and got a meal out of the deal as well. Then I
walked down the street and saw another friend/acquaintance's gate
open. I stepped inside. Oh the look on her face. "Anne! You came!
I'm so glad! Come in, come in!! Sit down, drink tea! [Implied: eat
more food!]" We chatted and she brought me up-to-date on her life
while I told her about news from the school. Then I stood up, thanked
her, and moved a little further down the road.

This went on all day. With each house I got a little more relaxed
about just showing up, until ELEVEN, count them: ELEVEN houses later,
I practically rolled back to my own home totally content. Seven
houses in three days? Meh, I demolished that goal. I stepped out of
my comfort zone and adopted a totally new cultural custom. In return,
I learned a little more about my neighbors, and I think I showed them,
just by showing up, how much they really mean to me.

Down the road, if you're ever passing by and you see my gate open,
poke your head in. We can have a cup of tea over veggies and sweets!