“Devlenye”

May 8, 2011

 

Let me tell you something interesting about language acquisition:

 

When you learn a language through immersion, the words you learn fastest are those that are most useful to you in daily life. 

 

Last week, I came to work and they told me one of my coworkers was in the hospital.  When I asked what was wrong, the English speaker hesitated and told me she didn't know how to say "devlenye" in English.  Without missing a beat I respond: "High blood pressure."  Then I caught myself, and what had just happened. It made me laugh, but in a sad way.  I learned the word "devlenye" out of necessity.  This is the third person in two months that I've seen go to the hospital for high blood pressure.  Sure, loads of people have "devlenye" at home, but it doesn't mandate a hospital stay most of the time, does it? Here, it is as much a part of daily life as the standardized tests prep at school and spring-cleaning at home.

 

Living in Kazakhstan, I need to know how to say, "I'm full," and "thank you." "I don't know" was an important addition to my vocabulary. "Electricity" has proven quite helpful. And yes, even "high blood pressure" is unfortunately useful in my day-to-day conversations.

The Parade

May 2, 2011

 

Happy Unity Day Everyone! Actually, it was yesterday, but since the holiday fell on a Sunday, we get Monday off as well.  I have a newfound respect for two-day weekends seeing as I normally only get one day a week.

 

To celebrate the holiday I went to what was potentially the strangest parade of my life. For pretty much every state holiday, there is a concert in the center of town.  My village actually has an outdoor stage permanently constructed in the town square.  All the traffic from the "highway," which is our Main Street, is diverted through the neighborhoods as people flock to the square for the concert at 10AM… which really means 10:30 or 11AM. 

 

I joined the crowd and when I got there I noticed no one was actually standing in the square like they usually do.  They would walk all around the edge of the center, but it was like there was an equally charged magnet repelling everyone from that spot.  I was confused.  Then without any announcement, my host mother pulled me to the street.  Suddenly people were lining both sides of the street and there was a cluster of men walking down the road.  They wore regular street clothes and carried a banner as they walked straight-faced, not waving or acknowledging the crowed.  Meanwhile, the crowd didn't cheer or wave back.  We just stared at them.  They walked the equivalent of two city blocks and evaporated into the crowd.  Then the next group came.  They were stoic.  We were stoic.  Yet, everyone gave them their complete attention.  This repeated itself for about ten "floats" (aka- groups of people walking down the street) before the parade ended.  Then the concert began and people started mingling in the street again.

 

Like so many things in Kazakhstan, it was "an experience." 

The Calendar Says It's Easter

April 30, 2011

 

I told myself I would write about Easter at some point, but I'm not really sure what to say.  Holy week in Kazakhstan was simply a set of days on a calendar.  They are marked in my planner, but other than that, they receive no recognition in a Muslim country.  It was a little odd going through the week.  I know this is a really important season in my faith, but the spirit of anticipation is absolutely zero in the community.

 

I woke up Easter Sunday feeling sad and a little bit guilty at my lack of enthusiasm.  This is only the biggest day on the Christian calendar and I can barely bring myself to consciously remember the holiday for a full morning.  Needless to say, there is a reason you practice faith in a community.

 

As I got out of bed, I committed to consciously remembering the sacrifices of the season for a whole day. I had almost forgotten that promise as I walked into the kitchen.  But there, sitting on the table was a plate of colorful eggs-one with a sticker of an angle and Jesus.  Who knew about Easter, and how did they get the supplies to make these vividly colored eggs?  I didn't tell anyone about this holiday or our traditions, yet somehow the Easter Bunny made a trip to Kazakhstan. 

 

As it turns out, a neighboring family is Russian Orthodox.  There is a small group of them in my village and they practice their faith rather quietly.  (I'm not sure they even have a building or weekly meetings.) But every year on Easter, they prepare baskets of eggs, cakes, and cookies and take them around to their neighbors. 

 

I don't know if they were thinking of me specifically when they brought those eggs to my door, but seeing them on the kitchen table was a little miracle for my spirit- which had otherwise been celebrating Holy Week alone.

A Pot of Tea

April 23, 2011

 

A school principal once asked me what I liked about Kazakhstan.  Within seconds I answered, "tea." He looked surprised, and maybe my response seemed a little snide at first. But if you've grown up in a tea-drinking culture, I think sometimes it's easy to overlook what tea really entails. It is a part of every phase of your day and life.  So when I say I love tea, it is not that I particularly care for the leaves you put in the teapot or the scalding sensation of liquid assaulting my tongue.  I mean I love the whole culture that has been permeated by tea.

 

I love seeing neighbors in the street and being invited in for tea.  I love coming home after a long day at work and pausing for a cup of tea.  I love, love, LOVE sitting down with friends and talking over a cup of tea.  To me, tea is a sign of hospitality, a calming moment, and a gesture of friendship.

 

Last week, I was sitting with some young teachers at lunch.  We have seen each other in the halls for months, but we never talked until yesterday.  To be honest, I wasn't sure they liked me, but I didn't want to eat alone, so I asked to join them.  In true Kazakh style, they welcomed me whole-heartedly.  As the conversation unfolded, I was amazed at my good fortune to be sitting with these people.  Their faces will never show it in the halls of the school, but they are filled with good spirits and a genuine energy.  Lunch ended but the conversation carried on as we poured more tea.

 

What started as a "get to know you" session turned into young women telling me life stories.  I heard about dating and what it's like to be a daughter-in-law in Kazakhstan. They told me about abusive husbands and being single moms.  We talked about dreams for the future and the struggles that come in getting to those dreams.  I only just met these women, but as we drained the teapot they shared their stories- some joyful, others tragic.

 

Over and over, I continue to be amazed at how much you can learn simply by listening.  And I can't say "thank you" enough to these women for their company and friendship, and for sharing a pot of tea.

A Surreal Life, as Usual

April 17, 2011

 

It's Sunday, the one day we don't have school… but my alarm rings at 7:20 and I question if it's really worth it… it is.  I've gotta hit the street before the Sunday bazaar-crowd starts their migration to the market.  If I wait too long, I'll draw unwanted attention. "Is that a girl? Running? Why?" I crawl out of bed, promising myself an afternoon nap.

 

Lunch rolls around, I eat alone, then sneak off to my room to start cleaning.  I wipe down all counter space- still alarmed by the dust buildup.  The outside comes in with more ferocity in Kazakhstan than at home- probably because the windows are always open and the streets are paved with dirt.

 

Five o'clock: I take the two year old out for a walk- a meager effort to wear her out before a non-existent bedtime.  We see a man ride past on a camel. I'm dumbfounded.  Why isn't anyone stopping to stare?  There's a man on a Bactrian trotting right alongside the 80's style cars as they put down Main Street.

 

The toddler refuses to walk another step twenty minutes from home… so in addition to some cardio, I get an arm workout today.

 

At 7:30 I settle into a chair by my window to use the fading light for a rare treat: a New York Times dated February 28^th.  Ah yes, real news!  As the sun dips lower into the mountains, I read about Libyan rebels, a new approach to White House fitness, and the fresh look for the Oscars.

 

Another lulling Sunday and it's life as usual, yet everything feels so surreal.

 

Crisco Reunion

April 9, 2011

 

When I was ten years old my uncle caught me sitting beside the couch with a jar of Crisco and the sugar bowl.  I was taking Crisco out by the spoonful and rolling it in the sugar before popping the tasty morsel into my mouth.  His immediate response: "Do your parents know you do that?  You're gonna die of a clogged artery."  His prophesy of death petrified me and I gave up one of the hydrogenated world's best treats.

 

Well, Kazakhstan is a magical land where childhood dreams come true.  At my Kazakh tutor's house, there is a beautiful oiled butter mixture that regularly makes an appearance at the lunch table. (That is butter that has been whipped in oil.) For three months, I've watched them take tablespoons of this oiled-butter and lump it on a breadcrumb then dip it in sugar.  Genius!! This is even better than Crisco!  Straight butter, rolled in oil, and dipped in sugar.  Why didn't I think of that in my years of recklessness?! Each week I watch and one part of me gets a little grossed out while the other part of me is tempted to pick up a bread scrap alongside the best of them.

 

Seven months in, I decided the time has come.  I dipped my bread in the butter-oil and took a double dose of sugar. Delicious!  This is really what everyone wants to do back home, but their conscience (or their doctor) won't let them. 

 

No fears, I'm still taking care of myself, but you can only say "no" to so many things on the table before you're just being rude.  So for two years, I'm giving in to my childhood dream.  As my father told me: "When in Rome…" 

Living Large

March 27, 2011

 

I have great news:  I just took my first shower in 5 months…  AND the shower had hot water… AND there is soap in the bathroom sink.  These are the joys of traveling to the "big city" for a training conference!