"Toi" Time

November 24, 2010

 

Last night I went to a Kazakh wedding.  WOAH!  What a treat! I can't decide if this is a complete 180 of an American wedding, or if it's like an American wedding without the religious aspects but with some added cultural dances and lip-synching (so… like a reception).  Either way, this is not like any wedding I've seen before.

 

First of all, this particular "toi" was planned in about three days.  That's right, DAYS.  That's not standard, they usually take a couple months, but this one was on the fast track.  I got my invitation in the form of a phone call at 7:30PM, approximately two and a half hours before the event was to take place.  Of course I went!  (I was told Kazakh weddings usually start at 9 or 10PM because historically, Kazakh people had to take care of their animals all day.  By the time chores were done and everyone was clean, it was very late.)

 

I walked into the reception hall and found a seat at a table with my co-workers.  Each table was overflowing with food.  Breads, cheeses, meats, pastries, candies, salads, fruit.  They had everything!

 

The bride and groom sat at the head table, just like in America.  There was a dance floor in front of them and people would get up to toast the newlyweds, dancers would perform, or a professional lip-syncher would "sing."  The guests danced, but the bride and groom only shared one dance.  Most of the time, they sat at the head table and graciously received well wishes from their guests.  The bride wore a beautiful white dress (it looks similar to our wedding dresses, but with more ruffles and fur) and a traditional Kazakh headdress.  The groom was in a standard white Kazakh robe. 

 

In between the toasts and the dances, waiters brought out the main course… I had no idea where they would fit it, but Kazakhs are masters of arranging a dinner spread.  There were more toasts and dancing and then there was cake (and other sweets).

 

Basically, the whole night was eating and wedding toasts.  I did not witness any vows or prayers.  (Legal papers are signed earlier in the day, and there is some stuff that happens with the family, but that is a pretty small crowd.)  It was really interesting to watch because I feel like there is probably more going on than I realize, I just don't understand it yet.  Either way, I loved being a part of it all!

I feel BLAH!

November 19, 2010

Yesterday, the flu bug attacked me.  Funny, this was the first time in about fifteen years that I actually got the flu shot.  Being sick is bad enough, but the remedy here is eat, eat, eat.  Drink tea, drink tea, drink tea!  Kazakh food is tasty and teatime is growing on me.  But I'm sick. I'm not hungry and I certainly don't want greasy noodles or salami.  If anything, I just want plain food from home.

 

Today, I tried to go to the post office. Little did I know, the pension checks came in the mail.  There was a swarm of people at the door.  I attempted to wait in line but my body rebelled. I found a chair off to the side to wait out this corporal coup. It took over an hour.  Eventually, someone took pity on me and helped me mail my junk. 

 

By some miracle, I was able to walk back to my house before crashing.  Ugggh!  I need food.  I want American food!  Not even sick people food.  I want cottage cheese, smoothies, peanut butter and cereal. More than that, I just want to feel better.

 

The Day I Became the Office Loser (a.k.a. Today)

November 10, 2010

 

My Peace Corps site assignment is to work with the Regional Education Department to conduct teacher trainings and improve English skills among educators. Sounds important, right? Well, this was my first day of work and I felt like I was in first grade again. 

 

I woke up, ate my Wheaties (hot milk with bread and butter), and grabbed my bag before heading down the street to flag down a ride.  On my way out the door, my (new) host mom handed me a sack with hard-boiled eggs, half a loaf of buttered bread, an apple, and candy.  To top it off, she gave me a one-liter thermos of hot tea so I'd have something warm to put in my stomach at lunchtime.  Yes!  The perfect Kazakh lunchbox!

 

I trekked to work, sat at my desk and worked diligently until one o'clock.  Everyone else started to pull out food.  They set up a little eating space in the middle of the room and invited me to join them.  Awesome!  I'm a cool first grader and I get to sit with the big kids!  I gladly trotted across the room with my thermos and lunch sack.  I cleared a little corner of the table and started to chow down.  They giggled… I guess "cool" was the wrong adjective. 

 

"Anne, whacha' doin'?"

 

I had no idea what the problem was.  This was a Kazakh original meal.  I even had HOT TEA for goodness sake!

 

Eventually, it came out that one person brings food for everyone.  You don't eat your own food.  Oops.  How was I supposed to know that?  My sack and thermos were swept away to a distant table and I was handed a fork and plate.  In the future, I must bring food for everyone or not bring food at all.

 

Tomorrow, I will leave the beloved thermos at home with my pull-ups.  On second thought, I may need those pull-ups.  I have much to learn and it turns out I'm not really at "Big Girl" status, yet.

Business in the front…

November 2, 2010

 

So… it's been nearly five months since I got a haircut.  This mop of mine is getting long and a bit unruly. I've got tons of split-ends.  But tonight, a stroke of genius came over me. For some strange reason, I thought I was skilled enough to cut my own hair.  I should never be allowed to do that again. I get impatient with the whole making sure it's even thing, so I just guesstimate.  Plus I only have one and a half mirrors here.  I can't be sure of the end result, but I think I just gave myself a mullet.  That's in style, right?!

Business in the front...

November 2, 2010

 

So… it's been nearly five months since I got a haircut.  This mop of mine is getting long and a bit unruly. I've got tons of split-ends.  But tonight, a stroke of genius came over me. For some strange reason, I thought I was skilled enough to cut my own hair.  I should never be allowed to do that again. I get impatient with the whole making sure it's even thing, so I just guesstimate.  Plus I only have one and a half mirrors here.  I can't be sure of the end result, but I think I just gave myself a mullet.  That's in style, right?!

A Great Reason to Learn Kazakh

November 1, 2010

 

In Peace Corps Kazakhstan, there are two language options: Kazakh or Russian. Both are widely spoken here.  There is kind of a divide between the two.  Some people are proud Russian speakers.  Some are proud Kazakh speakers.  I am learning Kazakh.

 

 Last Saturday, I went to the bazaar to buy some winter boots.  My Kazakh is pretty horrible, but my Russian is far worse… I vaguely know how to count to ten in Russian.  Anyway, I found a pair of boots I liked and I approached the saleswoman.  She was a 5'1" woman probably in her seventies.  The conversation went a little something like this:

 

(The following text is a translation)

 

Anne: Excuse me, how much do these boots cost?

Woman: (Unknown Russian words… probably the cost.)

Anne: I'm so sorry, I don't speak Russian.  Could you tell me in Kazakh?

Woman: You speak Kazakh?!

Anne: My Kazakh is very bad, but I speak better Kazakh than Russian.

Woman: Where are you from?  England?

Anne: America.

Woman: You are from America and you speak KAZAKH?!  (She gives me a big hug.)  Come in.  Because you speak Kazakh I will cut the price…

 

I was probably in her bazaar stall for 20 minutes.  She brought me lots of boots and told me what was good and what wasn't.  She kept giving me big hugs and was so thrilled that I spoke her language.  She brought out cookies and gave me wool shoe inserts for free to keep my feet extra warm.  All this just because I knew a few basic words in Kazakh. 

 

Before I came to Kazakhstan, I was really torn about what language to learn.  Russian is more widely spoken worldwide, but I am in KAZAKHstan.  I chose Kazakh and moments like the one at the bazaar assure me I made the right choice!

Doing Dishes

October 16, 2010

I wanted to tell you about doing dishes in Kazakhstan. I tried three
different times to write what it means to me and each time I had a
different answer. Culturally, it means nothing (except that young
women usually do the dishes). But to me, doing the dishes means
everything.

First of all, I am pretty useless here. I can't cook my own meals
because I don't know what to do when they give me a whole chicken at
the market. I don't know how to heat the moncha for my weekly bucket
bath. And I can't speak the language. So every day, someone puts
food on my table. They heat the moncha for me and humor me while I
make useless attempts at communication. Someone is holding my hand
every step of the way and I hardly have the words to thank them.
However, I can do a mean dish-washing. So every evening, the family
gets to rest while I collect the flatware and roll up my sleeves.
After all they do for me, it's nice to know I can still grab a sponge
and start scrubbing.

Since this is the only thing I can really do around the house, I have
to laugh. I flew across eleven time zones so I could basically be
useless outside of my job. But now I have two very special jobs. I
am a "hired" volunteer and I came to 1. Teach English and 2. Wash
Dishes. To me, that's funny. I promise I am a reasonably functional
individual at home. I know how to survive. Here, I'm not sure I'd
make it without some chalk or a dishrag.

Lastly, doing dishes has meant friendship. My host family seems to
like me and I have very little idea why. I can't talk to them. I just
smile, play charades, and make faces at their kids. I think they know
I'm a decent person. But they don't actually know me. Therefore, I
attribute any affection to the fact that I wash their dishes. (It does
build character, so I should have plenty of that by now!)

When I was in college, I adopted a Vietnamese proverb that says you
should "do the dishes to do the dishes," I guess it is kinda like the
English, "living in the moment," except that there is an understanding
that every moment is not going to be an exotic adventure. Do what you
must and appreciate that you're able to do that much. When you do the
dishes, don't do them to get them done. Enjoy the rhythm of your
task.

That proverb has taken on a new meaning for me in Kazakhstan. Dishes
may be a chore, and I will enjoy their rhythm. However, that chore is
a universal sign for "thank you" and such a simple act has brought me
friendship through an otherwise broken dialogue.

May God bless dirty dishes!