Not much going on

July 19, 2013

This, too, has been a slow week. There’s really not all that much to do in Bar Bulak, and once you remove sitting around and eating from the agenda (thanks, Ramadan), you’re pretty much left with lounging around with the cat and the kindle. I downloaded something like forty free books from Amazon before I left, and I have now finished all of them. Most were just average, although some were surprisingly good, while others were simply abominable. But hey, they were free. Of course I’ve got roughly 180 books on that glorious device, so now I’m embarking on some quality re-reading. I’m currently working my way through the collected works of P.G. Wodehouse.

Mocha is in heat, and is most definitely trying her hardest to get knocked-up. Buddy, who is at least eight times her size, is totally smitten, although he’s so much bigger than her that he seems to be having a difficult time reaching his goal (if you catch my drift). And, of course, while his girlfriend is in heat, no collar or chain can hold him. Of course, all the other male dogs in the village have been trying to impregnate the poor girl as well, although for the most part they’ve just been getting their asses kicked by Buddy.

I taught my last classes today – and then I realized that I have exactly one month before I have to be ready to go with my next set of classes (several sections of an undergrad course that I’ll be teaching at my university). While I love teaching, it’s always nice to have a break. And, of course, I suspect that my American undergrads won’t be anywhere near as enthusiastic as my Kyrgyz students. Anyway, as today was our last class, quite a few students gave me going away presents. Many of them were hand-made felt souvenirs, although some were store bought. They all looked like they’d been sitting around various homes for a while… but when someone who doesn’t have much to start off with gives you one of their possessions as a present, it means a lot. Of course, between my Toguz Bulak and Bar Bulak presents, I have rather a large box that I’m going to have to ship home. Plus I still plan on doing some souvenir shopping in Bishkek. Oi.

In the interest of cutting down on the amount of crap I have to cart around for the next twelve days (especially since I’ll be taking a marshrutka from Bar Bulak to Bishkek on the 27th) I went through my possessions and got rid of everything (other than gifts) that I won’t absolutely need, either in the remaining 12 days or once I get home. I gave all of my triaged possessions to my host family. Aidai (my Shadow) got all of my teaching-related things, and I gave her my Kyrgyz-English dictionary as well. She was thrilled, and spent the afternoon memorizing texts and teaching her friends how to play my English vocabulary flashcard game.

I was supposed to have one more day remaining here in Bar Bulak main before being shuttled off to the London School’s “beach camp” down by the lake (near the yurt camp where my host family has their yurts and café). Then, this evening, I learned that as per some sort of inexplicable directive from the London School, I will be going to the beach camp tomorrow instead. But, “ours is not to question why” (NPH) and all that jazz. Time to finish packing! As my host family has gifted me with several really lovely scarves, a hand-stitched pillow, and a tea pot, this is going to be a challenge.

Classes in Bar Bulak

June 27, 2013

I taught my first classes here in Bar Bulak yesterday. I used the same introductory lesson that I had planned for my first classes in Toguz Bulak. It worked really well in the first two classes, although it was rather over the heads of my third group.

As in Toguz Bulak I am teaching three groups, although the set-up here has little else in common with the set-up in Toguz Bulak. The classes in Toguz Bulak were organized by age, and the students were selected based on their English ability. Here, I am not entirely sure how the classes were chosen. The first two groups each range in age from 8 to 21, and the students range in skill from low beginner to high beginner.

The third group consists of students ages 7 to 11, all of whom at least know the alphabet (to varying degrees), and who range in skill from flat beginner to low beginner. (For some reason, a 21 year old had initially been assigned to Group 3, even though she is 21 and a high beginner – at the end of our classes I asked her if it would be possible for her to come to one of the other classes instead, and she willingly agreed.)

Classes went well, although like I said, my lesson was too difficult for Group 3, even dumbed-down as much as I could on the spur of the moment. I will be able to use the same lessons that I used for my groups 2 and 3 in Toguz Bulak for my groups 1 and 2 here in Bar Bulak, but I will need to prepare completely new material for Group 3.

One thing that I really like is that my three groups meet back to back, at 9:00, 10:00, and 11:00. This means that I am finished by noon, giving me a lot more free time. (Not that there’s a whole lot to do in Bar Bulak, but I do love free time!) 

Snow storm in June?!

June 18, 2013

Yesterday morning the weather was cool – highs in the 60s – but the skies were clear and sunny. By noon clouds had blown in and rain had started to fall. By mid-afternoon the valley had turned into a wind-tunnel, with wind and rain howling past my window. By about 6pm, the rain had begun turning into sleet and snow flurries. By 8pm we were in a full-on, mid-winter type blizzard. A freakin’ blizzard. In June. And me with all of my summer clothes. Around 9pm, the power went out. After eating dinner by candlelight, I retreated under my covers with my kindle. The power remained off until about noon the following day.

Apparently this is the only time that anyone in the village can recall a snow storm in June. A few years ago they had a snow storm in May, but never in June. Just my luck. I experienced the coldest winter in Russia in decades back in 2006, the coldest winter in Kyrgyzstan in decades in 2008, and now the coldest summer in memory in the Issyk-Kul region. For a native Floridian, this is a rather horrible string of bad luck with weather.

When I awoke in the morning, it was still quite frigid and the sky was an ominous grey – although the snow had stopped falling and the previous evening’s snow was in the process of melting away. I dressed in as many layers as I could gather. (I’d come prepared for summer, not for snow!) Then it was time to meet with Adilet and Aizhan, who had been sent out to Toguz Bulak from The London School to take photos of me, my host family, and my students for some sort of project. I was never really clear on what kind of project this was, but apparently the pictures absolutely had to be taken today. (For those of you wondering why I had to go to Bishkek on Friday to pick up my passport if people from The London School were going to make a surprise trip to Toguz-Bulak on the following Tuesday… well, this is Kyrgyzstan. Who knows?) Normally I would have been dressed professionally in order to teach – and especially for some kind of photo-shoot. I might have even considered make up… but it was really incredibly cold, and the only thing I was considering was warmth. I definitely looked a bit rough.

Adilet took photos of me and my host family at breakfast, and then we set off for the school… which was locked. My students were waiting by the locked front door, but no one else was around. Luckily, one of my students in Group 1 is the daughter of the school’s director, so I sent her off on a quest to locate the key. (Pretty much everyone here, including most of the students, has a cell phone, but as the power was out to the cell towers, no one had a cell signal, and they had to go in search of the key on foot.) Finally, after waiting on the frigid front step for a good half hour, they key arrived and we were able to go inside. Of course, being inside wasn’t much of an improvement, as the school was chilly on the best of days, and didn’t have any heat. Sigh.

Me with Nurel, Nuraika, and their cousin at breakfast
Me with Group 1 - locked out and waiting for keys
Adilet

Adilet took quite a few photos and videos of me teaching Group 1, and then returned to Bishkek. Some of the photos have since appeared on Facebook, but I’m not sure what’s going to be done with the rest.

Exam-day classes and feasts

June 3, 2013

Today was the beginning of final exams for the graduating seniors. Various exams will be held on different days throughout the next few weeks. About half of my first class consists of graduating seniors, so on days that exams are held, we will be missing half of the group. Today was one of those days, and Group 1 only had four students in attendance. Meanwhile, my other classes were packed full of eager and very energetic students.

Last week I had been asked if I would be willing to teach a class for the teachers at the school who were interested in learning English. Despite the fact that I’d only signed on to teach three classes a day, not four, I didn’t really feel like I could say no. Besides, what else is there for me to do here in Toguz Bulak?

The teachers’ class was supposed to be held at 2:30, immediately following Group 3. This afternoon at 2:25, one of the teachers stuck her head in and asked if I was almost finished. I was asked to go to the teachers’ room as soon as my class was finished. I figured that the teachers were getting antsy and wanted their class to start. I couldn’t have been more wrong.* I hurried through the end of my lesson with Group 3, wondering how I would be able to teach in the teachers’ room as it had no chalkboard. When my time with Group 3 was finished I gathered my things and scurried down to the teachers’ room… only to find that yet another feast was underway to celebrate the start of exams. Luckily this one was only two courses and had fewer toasts… but still! Then there was the fact that I’d already eaten lunch during my break between Groups 2 and 3, so I really was not hungry at all. But in Kyrgyzstan, not being hungry is not an acceptable excuse for not eating.

The feast was almost over (people were packing up and getting ready to go) when Three Important People arrived. They were apparently from the regional department of education, and they were going from school to school checking to make sure that the kick-off of final exams was going properly. They were also partaking in the equivalent feasts at the various other schools they visited. The two women of the group (the man being the designated driver) were a few drinks past tipsy when they arrived to prolong our feast.

The Three Important People insisted that I move to sit by them, and they insisted that everyone take more shots. Then they decided that they, the school’s director, a couple of high-ranking teachers and I needed to adjourn away from the masses to drink in the director’s office. Sheesh! Luckily, after the first round (and after the designated driver fellow told me that if he was my father he would have taken a knife to my arm to remove my tattoo), the school’s Russian teacher rescued me by telling the Three Important People that I had somewhere I needed to be.

Me, with the Three Important People, the school's director, and the school's Russian teacher

It was 5pm when I finally left the school, and the weather over our village was lovely and clear – even though I could see rain advancing across the valley from Kul-Tor. I decided to walk to the southeastern corner of the village where I had seen a desiccated sheep’s head on our drive back into town from the farm on Saturday. It was still sitting there. I photographed it, and managed to scurry home before the rain hit.

*In the end, there never was a teachers’ class. I think this was an idea of the director’s that the teachers themselves didn’t exactly endorse. Given how much work all of these women do at home after a day working at the school, I can understand why none of them would want to prolong their time at school.

Gangnam Style, Toguz-Bulak Style

May 31, 2013

Yesterday was unbelievably surreal, although it started off normally enough. My lesson with Group 1 (med- to high- beginners) focused on a review of things I was pretty sure most of them already knew: different ways of greeting people in different situations, followed by questions one might ask while getting to know someone. In this way I was able to learn that every single one of my students in this class has multiple siblings. Every single one. (I can’t imagine being pregnant once, much less multiple times, much less in the land of squat-toilets.) We then spent some time discussing what they do in the morning, in the afternoon, and in the evening. I learned that the standard question of, “What do you like to do in your free time?” has very different connotations here. These kids don’t have all that much free time. If they’re not doing homework, they’re usually helping their mothers cook or clean, taking care of younger siblings, or helping their fathers with their farm animals. Relaxing in front of the TV (if they have a TV at all, which not all do) is generally done around 9pm, while they’re eating dinner. We discussed phrases like, “milk the cows” and “shear the sheep” – very different phraseology from that featured in the Bishkek-centric textbooks from the London School!

With Group 2, I focused on greetings, followed by numbers and the question “How many _____________ are there?” I taught them the words for the shapes circle, star, triangle, and square, as well as the colors red, blue, black, purple, and green. Those colors just so happen to be the colors of the white-board markers I’d brought with me. I’d also brought along a mini white-board. Using said mini-whiteboard, I drew a variety of shapes, and had my students identify first how many stars (etc.) there were, followed by how many blue (etc.) stars there were, and so on.

In both classes the students continued to be incredibly enthusiastic. I don’t think I’ve ever taught students who were that excited to be in an English class before. We sang Hello, Goodbye again in both classes, and many of the students had already memorized the lyrics!

I had expected to do the same activities with Group 3 (after lunch) as I had done with Group 2. Instead, I returned to the school to a bit of a surprise: the building was locked, and the only people who were around were my students. Several of the boys tried various windows, and one even fished some nails out of his pocket and tried (unsuccessfully) to pick the lock to the school’s front door. Since Rakhat works at the school, and since her son Nursultan was in this class, I sent him off to see if his mom could round up a key to the building.

Now, if I’d had all of my things with me, we could have simply had class outside. Unfortunately, while I’d popped my ipod and portable speaker in my purse when I left for lunch, I’d left everything else in my classroom. I figured that while we were waiting for Nursultan to return, we could listen to Hello, Goodbye. I was impressed to discover that in this class as well, students had made their own copies of the text (I hadn’t asked them to do so) and many had memorized the lyrics. We sang the song twice before Nursultan returned with the news that class had been canceled for the day.

All of the students were visibly disappointed by this news. As such, I asked them if they wanted to have class outside, and the answer was a resounding YES! Of course, at that point I’d already exhausted the only resource in my possession (the ipod), and creating a lesson outside, on the fly, with no resources was rather a challenge. As with the other two classes, we practiced greetings. We then practiced colors (using the colors of their clothing), and then – using a stick (!!!!) – I drew stars, circles, triangles, and squares in the dirt and sort of recreated the lesson that I had done with Group 2.  I then had the students stand in a circle. We practiced counting in a round (to 100) and then drilled days of the week and months of the year. At that point we’d managed to fill the entire hour, so I played Hello, Goodbye one more time and sent them on their merry way.

Group 3 at the end of our outside class. You can see circles, a star, a triangle, and a square etched into the dirt.

I returned home to learn that the director of the Myrzamambetova Public School had invited us over to her house. I was expecting tea and a chat… and as such was wholly unprepared for what I was walking into. The director had thrown a huge party to celebrate the end of the school year, her daughter’s graduation from high school, and (no doubt as an afterthought, given my sudden arrival) my presence in the village. Rakhat and I were among the last to arrive, so I walked in, expecting a quiet tea to discover two lengthy tables, laden with food and surrounded by people. Nearly all of the teachers from the school were there. Most of them were women (I believe we had around five men in attendance, in addition to the director’s husband and son). I ended up seated next to the school’s Russian teacher (the Myrzamambetov Public School is one of the few rural public schools to still have Russian available). This was fortunate, as it gave me someone to talk to – although as I had rapidly grown accustomed to being a better speaker of Russian than pretty much everyone with whom I spoke here in Toguz-Bulak, I suddenly felt self-conscious, being placed next to the one person in the village whose Russian was substantially better than mine.

The table was topped with tons of boorsook, jam, and candy, as well as tea and juice and salads. Within seconds of sitting, I had tons of salad heaped onto my plate, which I diligently worked my way through before realizing that it was the first of something like seven courses. No kidding. There were also rounds and rounds of toasts. Luckily as some of those present were teetotalers, while others (like me) were only moderate drinkers, toasting with juice or wine instead of with vodka was considered an acceptable option. I toasted with white wine, and as such did not become intoxicated. (If I’d had to knock back the hard stuff, I would have been unconscious halfway through; this shindig went on for a long time. And let me just say that the manner in which the middle-aged teaching staff of the Myrzamambetov Public School could knock back the vodka was pretty damn impressive.) 

Several times we went outside between courses to dance. Apparently the most popular song of the moment in the tiny, rural, Kyrgyz village of Toguz-Bulak is Gangnam Style, which we must have listened to at least thirteen times (no exaggeration!). The first time it came on, it was rather surreal… by the end of the evening I was starting to feel like I had somehow gotten stuck inside of one of the endless number of parodies of PSY’s worldwide hit.

It wasn't all PSY. There was a lot of singing in Kyrgyz as well. 

The meal’s main course was beshbarmak, which literally translates to “five fingers” in Kyrgyz, as it’s a meal traditionally eaten with one’s hands. I’ve had beshbarmak before, but it’s always been a noodle-and-sheep dish that seemed like something that would be very difficult to eat with ones hands. Well, while this did indeed come with a noodle-and-sheep dish, each person also got a huge chunk of meat still on the bone and to be attacked using one’s hands (I got a shoulder), accompanied by a chunk of fat (from the fat-tail of the fat-tailed sheep), as well as a cup of piping hot, greasy, boiled-sheep bullion to drink. I have to admit that I am most definitely not a fan of sheep-bullion-as-beverage, but I figured that I needed to take a few swigs in order to be polite. Well, having already manhandled my greasy sheep-shoulder, my hands were quite greasy when I lifted my cup of sheep-bullion to my mouth. I’m sure you can guess what’s coming, although it was quite an unpleasant surprise for me. The cup slipped right out of my hands and toppled directly into my lap. This was both painful (it was hot!!) and horribly embarrassing (I mean, I wasn’t even drunk, for crying out loud!). Sigh.

Shoulder and hunk-o-fat
Aha! Here's the noodle-and-sheep portion.

When the beshbarmak comes out, it usually marks the imminent arrival of the end of the party. Guests are not expected to eat all (or even most) of the huge hunk of meat they’re given. In fact, guests are also given plastic bags into which to put the left-overs to eat the following day (or days, depending).

On our way home from the party, I asked Rakhat if it would be possible for me to get into the school on the following day in order to retrieve my things as everything I needed in order to lesson plan was locked inside. I was told that the school would be locked up all day Friday, but that there would be a festival at the school on Saturday, and that I would be able to reclaim my things then.

Teaching in Toguz-Bulak

May 29, 2013

My classes today went really, really well – especially considering that I had no materials to work with whatsoever, not even a textbook to follow. I had kind of suspected that I wouldn’t be provided with anything, and as such had planned a lesson that could be tweaked to span the course of an hour with essentially any level of students. (And luckily I’m experienced enough that planning an entire 15 day course and all of the materials to go along with it shouldn’t be much of a problem.) I had brought a selection of white-board markers with me, although what I should have brought was a selection of chalk. My classroom (like all the classrooms at the Myrzamambetov Public School) has only one ancient chalkboard. Luckily it has a lot of windows, since while it has six ceiling lights, only two of them work – and they’re pretty dim.

My first class (Group 1) consists of ten high-schoolers, ages 16 to 18. They are my most “advanced” class, and I’d say they range from mid- to high- beginners. My second class (Group 2) consisted of twelve middle-schoolers, ages 13 to 15, and is solidly in the mid-beginner range. My third class (Group 3) consists of thirteen elementary school and lower middle school students, ages 11 to 14, and they are low- to mid- beginners. None are flat beginners (ie, they all at the very least know the alphabet and some basic sentences). Additionally, they all seem to speak Russian to varying degrees. While I like to use English as much as possible in the classroom, I am not one of those ESL/EFL teachers who does not believe in using the student’s native language (or in this case, pre-existing second language) to help facilitate explanations when necessary. All three classes were very excited to see me, and all were incredibly eager to participate. The third (and youngest) class especially was especially excited; students were seriously jumping over each other for the opportunity to read aloud. All three groups really seemed to enjoy the singing.

Group 1 meets from 9:00 to 10:00. Group 2 meets from 10:15 to 11:15. Group 3 meets from 1:30 to 2:30. This means that I have more than a two hour break between my morning classes and my afternoon class.

During my break, I went into the teeny-tiny store located directly across the street from the school. When I say teeny-tiny… well, this place was little more than a kiosk, containing three boxes of juice, a rather comprehensive supply of booze, a lot of cookies and candy, some ice-cream, sausages, sweaters, scarves, and socks. No bottled water whatsoever. Sigh. I bought a miniscule carton of juice and added 475som to my flash drive modem. (Sadly, as the thing is of Chinese origin, it is impossible to tell my balance. I couldn’t figure out what the Russian meant when I requested my balance, so I switched the language to English, and it is just as indecipherable. Chinglish nonsense. So who knows how long my 475som will last me.)

After my third class of the day, I returned home and napped. I nap a lot, no matter what country I’m in or what I’m doing. Rakhat seemed concerned that I might be either sick or homesick or simply bored, so I had to explain that I pretty much need a nap every afternoon. I have to admit, I feel a little bad about this habit, given the insane schedule that Rakhat must keep. Not only does she work at the school, but she takes care of three children – including Nurel who is only 2.5, and she must do things like milk the cows and hand-wash the clothes. She is constantly on the go from before I wake up in the morning until around 11pm.

Rakhat, Nuraika, and Nurel

After my nap, I did some lesson planning for the following day, as well as outlining the general plan for the remaining fourteen days of my course. The London School had given me a laptop in order that I could record audio-files to accompany their Beginner 1, 2, and 3 level texts. The laptop also contained the outlines for their Beginner 1 and 2 texts (as yet unwritten, as far as I can tell) and the actual full electronic file for Beginner 3. I had hoped that I could use the outlines and the text from Beginner 3 in my classroom. Unfortunately, the text was just too Bishkek-centric. Talking about going to the cinema next to Ala-Too Square or dancing in a nightclub after dining in a café near Sovietskaya is great location-centric content for a school based in Bishkek. However, Bishkek might be the capital of Kyrgyzstan, but it is so vastly different from Toguz-Bulak that it might as well be in a different country. Toguz-Bulak doesn’t have any cafés or restaurants to speak of, much less any nightclubs! Additionally, the topics seem more appropriate for adults and university students (ie, discussing careers and university courses) which makes the content rather irrelevant to my 11 to 18 year old Toguz-Bulakian children. Not a problem: I’ll create my own content.

After lesson planning, I watched Rakhat milk the cows (from which she makes fresh kefir, as well as cow-milk kumys every night). Like I said, the amount of work this woman does in one day is simply incredible. I couldn’t do it.

Rakhat milks the cow while Altynbek looks on

Arrival in Toguz-Bulak

May 28, 2013

This morning I awoke quite early, as I had to be at the London School with all of my possessions (which have grown to include a computer, a shyrdak, and a bucket). The taxi driver who drove me to the London School wanted to know where I was from, how old I was, if I was married, if I was a lesbian, if I had a boyfriend, and if I was a virgin. In that order. Great. Welcome to Kyrgyzstan.

I met the London School’s director and her driver at the school and we set off for Toguz-Bulak. We only stopped once along the way, at the rest area at Kholodnie Vodi – not much there other than some kiosks selling snacks, and of course a cold water spring from whence the tiny village gets its name. There was also an incredibly sweet little black dog there. If I had been in my own transport (and going to my own home), I would have taken her with me. I felt pretty terrible leaving her behind.

When we arrived at the village of Toguz-Bulak, our first stop was the Myrzamambetov Public School, where my classes would be held. All of the school’s students and teachers – and apparently a couple of parents – had turned up to meet me and to listen to the London School’s director give a presentation on who I was and why I had come to their village. From the exterior, it was obvious that the school was of fairly new construction, but the interior was dimly lit and frigid, despite the warm, sunny day outside. I grew chilled as the director gave her presentation. Her presentation was entirely in Kyrgyz – a language in which I can only speak a few words – so I don’t know everything that was said. I do know that she included things like:

Don’t ask the American for money. Just because she is a foreigner does not mean that she is wealthy. She is a graduate school student and is poor.

Americans smile a lot. This does not mean that they are crazy or that they want to date you. This is just their way of being polite.

If you wish to do anything with the American, please schedule it with her in advance – don’t spring it on her at the last minute.

Please be punctual. Americans value punctuality.

(While no one asked me for money while I was in Toguz Bulak, I’m pretty sure most people didn’t pay any attention to any of the other ‘tips’ for dealing with The American.)

The Director of The London School gives her presentation
The person on the left is a Smiling American

By the time the presentation had finished, I was feeling thoroughly chilled inside the dark school-building, and was looking forward to returning to the warm outdoors. Alas: during the time of the presentation, the sky had clouded up, and the outdoors had grown rather chilly. I found myself thinking how glad I was that I’d brought fleece-lined leggings to accompany my sundresses!

We left the school and headed towards my host family’s house on the northern edge of the village. They live in a brand-new, two-story house (it was just completed this past November), yet as is true in many Kyrgyz villages, they had no indoor plumbing to speak of. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a brand-new, two-story house with a pit squatter out back. And a yurt set up in the yard.

My home for the next month.

I met the family who were to be my hosts for the next month: Rakhat and her husband Altynbek, and their three children Nursultan (14), Nuraika (10) and Nurel (2.5). Rakhat teaches at the Myrzamambetov Public School as well – she is a teacher of chemistry and biology. Her husband is a farmer (they raise mostly sheep, but also some cattle, goats, and chickens) as well as the regional deputy who represents the three villages in the valley. We ate plov accompanied by boorsook and jam and copious quantities of tea, and then the London School’s director left.

The fried bread is called boorsook.
My room, complete with my shyrdak :-)

At that point I was feeling pretty exhausted and in need of a nap.

Two hours later, I awoke feeling refreshed and ready to explore my surroundings. I spent a little bit of time watching my hosts plow a small field, using a horse drawn plow. The horse was very compliant. I can just imagine the negative reaction if I attached a plow to the back of either of my horses in the US! They were plowing the field in preparation for planting wheat to feed their animals come wintertime.

Nursultan plows

After spending a little bit of time watching my hosts plow, I decided to go for a walk around the tiny and remote village. Toguz-Bulak is tiny – the size of many neighborhoods in the US – and very desolate: wide dirt streets, small cottages (many in various states of disrepair, although several even nicer than my hosts’ home, and all with pit toilets), livestock roaming free, and in the middle of a wide valley, lined on both the north and the south by tall mountains. From the western edge of the village, I could see two other villages of comparable size: Kul-Tor (where I was initially supposed to go) and one other village.

Main Street, Toguz Bulak
Nearly every village, no matter how small, has a monument to WWII. (The Soviet Union entered the war in 1941, thus the discrepancy with the starting date.)

Unfortunately, I managed to encounter not one but two Creepy Dudes, both in their forties, both quite drunk, and both way too interested in me. The second one actually followed me to my door. Unluckily for me, he turned out to be a childhood friend of Altynbek, and as such was invited in for tea. Aaaargh. Luckily, Rakhat and Altynbek only kept the drunk fellow around just long enough to be polite, then very forcefully sent him on his way. After he left, Rakhat said, “He’s actually a decent guy when he’s sober, but…” Yeah. I am all too familiar with that type, and let me tell you how not interested I am! I decided at that point to invent a fictional boyfriend to start telling people about. Toguz-Bulak is a small enough place that “fact” of whether or not I was single would probably spread very quickly.

After dinner, I sat down to plan my lesson for the following day. I knew that I would have three groups: high school, middle school, and elementary. What I didn’t know was what levels of English skills the students would have or whether or not any of them would speak Russian. I also didn’t know if the school had any materials available for me to use, or if the students even had textbooks. As such, I planned a lesson that was really simple: a personal introduction (including photos from home of my family, my house, and my pets), some basic vocabulary (translated into both Russian and Kyrgyz) and the song Hello, Goodbye by The Beatles. We’ll see how it goes!

Chong Kemin and Bilimkana

May 15, 2013

After N and A returned from their horseback ride, we gathered all of our things and lugged them into the center of Kochkor, where our first stop was a local café – a different one from the place we had visited the day before. In contrast to the café of the previous day, this place was excellent. Not only did they have everything that was on their menu, but the service was excellent and the food was delicious. By that time my stomach had settled to the point that I was actually able to eat a bowl of borscht.

After lunch, we walked over to the taxi area and first attempted to arrange a taxi to Kalmak Ashu, the small village in the Chong Kemin valley which was our next destination. Unfortunately, as the taxi drivers knew that they wouldn’t be able to get a return fare from Kalmak Ashu to Kochkor, they openly laughed at us and were only willing to drive us there for absurd sums of money. Luckily Tom (the fellow we were meeting in Kalmak Ashu) had his own car and had said that if need be he could meet us in Bystrovka (AKA Kemin), a village located on the main drag between Issyk Kul and Bishkek – and a place that it was a lot easier to arrange transport to. We ended up arranging space in a shared taxi to Bystrovka, and we met Tom at the base of the statue of Shabdan Batyr that dominates the village.

Leaving Kochkor for Bystrovka/Kemin
The Orto-Tokoi Reservoir, now nicely full
Shabdan Batyr, Kemin/Bystrovka

To see the complete set of photos from the drive from Kochkor to Kemin, CLICK HERE.

Tom is the Program Coordinator for the Bilimkana Foundation, a newly established educational foundation which intends to set up thirty, high-quality private-but-affordable schools offering Russian and English education in rural areas of Kyrgyzstan. Nowadays in most rural areas of the country, education is available only in Kyrgyz. While there is nothing whatsoever wrong with speaking or studying Kyrgyz, this leaves children from rural areas at a disadvantage as if you want to be successful in Kyrgyzstan you still really need to know how to speak/read/write in Russian, and to be successful in former Soviet Central Asia, both Russian and English are necessities. Bilimkana is working to level the playing field somewhat for children from rural areas who might otherwise have no chance to learn either Russian or English.

Bilimkana logo and sign

As working for Bilimkana is definitely something that I am interested in doing once I’ve completed my MA TESOL, I had emailed Tom prior to leaving the US in order to express my interest in the program and to suggest that he and I meet up while I was in Kyrgyzstan over the summer. His reply had been to invite all four of us to stay in the Ashu Guesthouse in Kalmak Ashu so that we could see the very first Bilimkana school, meet the students and the teachers, and explore the Chong Kemin Valley. The entire experience was phenomenal. Tom drove us to the guesthouse, a really fantastic and comfortable place, nestled in the valley, surrounded by flowers and cultivated fields, and ringed by snow-capped mountains.

We dumped our bags in our rooms, had some tea with jam and honey, then went for a quick tour of the school. The children study in the morning, and right now they only offer classes to students grades K-2, although they are hoping to expand. English classes are offered to both older kids and adults in the afternoon. We were able to meet one of the teachers and several of the older students.  The school itself was incredible – quality construction and tons of resources, including a computer lab with internet access and wifi. (Apparently the local schools do not offer computer lessons either, whereas Bilimkana does.)

The school building

After a quick tour of the school we decided to drive up the valley just to have a look around. After the villages peter out, there’s simply a gorgeous valley with smatterings of horse/cow/sheep farms here and there. Just outside of the last village we picked up – of all things – a Russian hiker/trekker from Bishkek who was hiking/camping her way around the valley. She was a very interesting woman – if possibly a tad crazy. We drove her several kilometers up the valley to a dairy farm where she arranged to spend the night. We then spent a good bit of time taking photos of the river and the valley, at which point it was time to head back to the guesthouse for dinner – which was delicious and quite expansive.

Me :-)

The following morning – after yet another copious meal at the guesthouse, Tom took us back to the school to meet the children and all of the other teachers. The place is really quite marvelous, and all of the teachers and staff seemed wholly dedicated to what they were doing. The kids were great. They were so happy, and a lovely mixture of shy and excited to see us – and they were eager to practice what little English they knew. It really was a wonderful place. We ate lunch with the children… then returned to the guesthouse where even more lunch was waiting for us. By 1:30pm we had managed to consume three large meals, which was a little insane.

At that point Tom had to go and teach, so we said our goodbyes coupled with many thanks for his hospitality. We then decided to go for a hike in the few hours we had before the last marshrutka of the day left Kalmak Ashu for Bishkek. We hiked up into the foothills of the mountains to the south of Kalmak Ashu, explored a cemetery, met an incredibly friendly horse, and took far too many photos of the incredible views.

Me :-)

At about 5:15 we boarded the marshrutka to Bishkek. We returned to the Sakura hostel, and I went straight to bed, having started to feel a tad motion-sick in the marshrutka.

To see the complete set of photos from Chong Kemin, CLICK HERE.

Advanced Opinions

June 4, 2008

This month I’m back to teaching all lower level classes, although during April and May I taught an advanced class. It was loads of fun, as my students were actually able to share their opinions with me (as opposed to the lower level classes, where conversation revolves around simple questions like “What did you do yesterday?”). I’m really going to miss my advanced class. Anyway, here are some of the (unedited) answers they wrote on their exam; I thought you might be interested in their opinions.

What is your opinion of the “compensation culture” that has developed in America?

In America it is very stupid I think. Because in some situation the person guilty by himself, not because floor is wet or coffee was very hot. People should be more careful. If I were a judge, I never decide that people should take money if they wasn’t be careful. But in our country, if you are say truth and you are right, unfortunately, to win in judge is very difficult. You must give bribes for a jury. But if you give bribes, it is not make you sure that you will win. Because defendant can have given more bribes. I hope that in the future the government to realize this and make it better.

***

“Compensation culture” is a really strange phenomenon for people of Asian and CIS countries. Maybe we just didn’t get used to live in a pure civil society where all laws are strictly observed by all people including highly ranked militaries and top government officials. Civil society puts a law higher than all other moral values, it is actually the highest moral value itself. And that is why Western and mostly American people take all benefits from their constitutional rights, suing everyone and everything just because that they know the law is on their side.

***

Well, as I read in book, news, and heard from others, it is a big and serious matter in America. Because it is very often that people claim for compensation by suing companies, restaurants, even poor people who can’t even feed themselves and their families. If the reason of compensation is logical and acceptable, it’s ok. But mostly the reason is unbelievable and still they get a lot of money for suing that person or company. In my opinion in compensation cases, the jury should be those who were sued for some unbelievable reason. So that they could try to fix the problem gradually. Cause America has a famous name in world compensation statistics. And they have to do something about it and very fast.

***

Annie, I suspect that I wasn’t at this lesson and unsure about the “compensation culture.” If it came from the idea to get compensation for something, such culture could be helpful sometimes. Thanks to this “culture” people could know more about the law and their rights. But I’ve read a lot of stories about very weird situations when people were trying to get compensation. Some of them are just stupid and crazy! The compensation culture is very poor in our country because of corruption and imperfect court system.

Do you agree with the saying “money makes the world go round”? Why?

This saying is quite truthful, but not only money makes the world go round. Money is just speeding up the world’s processes, they help to develop relationships between countries and the peoples. But what would happen if money didn’t exist? Maybe then the universal equivalent of goods would be some another thing, for example, a sheep. And we would exchange sheeps for other goods and it would make the world go round.

***

No, I’m not agree with this point. Of course, money can help you to make your life better, but it doesn’t mean that if you have a lot of money you can buy everything. Money couldn’t bring you happiness if you are alone. Money couldn’t give you good healthy if you are very illness. It depends on people. If the person knows how to spend the money and will spend it on good things, like charity, he could change the world around him and help other people make their lifes better too.

***

When I studied at school I was disagree with this phrase. Because I was too young to realize it. But now I know that money plays great role in our life. Because you can get everything if you have money, you can allow yourself to do everything what you really like. You can even become president of very famous company without playing any role in its progress. But I know some people who are rich but they aren’t flashy, and they’re doing a lot of charity, they just live and help people. I think we must know that money only serve for us and nothing else.

What aspects of the education system in your country would you change? Why? How?

Actually, the system is good. However, there are many other problems in the country which cause bad education. The main one is low economic level of the country. Lots of people (about 80%) are poor. Some cannot even afford to buy elementary set of school stationary for their children. Teachers, tutors and professors have so little salaries that they are subjected to take bribes and they are not motivated in their work. So, the problem is not in the education system. Simply, we need new generation of politicians.

***

(This student is from Afghanistan) Well, education in my country isn’t that good, but if I could change something in it I would change all school books which are in a very bad conditions. They are old, many times printed and copied again, and has lost all its quality. You can barely read them. Second, I will start schools of co-education because it really helps a nation by getting shame out of mind, become couraged and have self confidence. Next, I will bring international language book and subjects into schools so that our students can get in touched and should be capable of standing in international society.

***

The education system in our country is not so strong and effective. We’ve got many universities, colleges, schools, but don’t have enough well-qualified teachers. Also, the salary of these teachers is very low, that’s why we have a big bribery system in education. First of all, if it would be possible, I would attestate all the universities, colleges and schools. Then I would try to increase qualification level of teachers, organize them a lot of trainings, and of course, increase their salaries.

***

In my opinion, the educational system of our country could be really good if our government took care of poor families and orphans. You know there are too many children working at our markets: Osh Bazaar and etc. They can’t get an education because of family problems, like not enough money, or there are five or six children in a family and a widow has to take care of everyone. Besides, it’s really expensive to study at one of the top schools of the city. Every parents want their children to get a high education. I think our ministry of education must take care of it. The other aspect which I really dislike is a bribe, which is very common in our university. You can easily get a first-class degree with money. It’s not fair!

Are there any subjects not commonly taught at schools in your country which you think should be taught? What? Why?

(This student is from Afghanistan) The first and main topic is that in schools students should be taught first-aid topics and which is important for every day life. Second, there should be cooking classes more and often, specially for teenage girls. Because I am experiencing that females are going away from cooking. Early times women and girls were attracted to cooking. Maybe like 99% women cooked. But now maybe 70% women don’t know how to cook small and easy dish.

***

I think there are some subjects which should be taught at schools. They are sex culture and etiquette. Etiquette should be taught at junior classes. Sex culture would be better to be taught to high school children. Our children don’t behave well at the public places like in marshrutka or cinema. Their behavior is just awful. As for a sex culture, I believe that children should know about AIDS and others dangerous sickness.

Thoughts on Language Acquisition

May 10, 2008

I was talking to someone the other day (I forget who), and this individual brought up the fact that Condoleeza Rice’s Russian is “so bad.” This person thought it was reprehensible that someone who studied Russian in university spoke the language so poorly. But the thing is, I completely understand.

In order to maintain one’s foreign language abilities, one must constantly practice and study. I received my BA in Russian in 2001. At that time, my spoken Russian, while not fluent, was pretty damn good. However, from Summer 2001 to Summer 2005, I neither practiced nor studied Russian. Additionally, during that time I made two extensive trips to South Korea, traveled all over Costa Rica, and lived in Southern California within walking distance of the Mexican border. By the time I returned to Russia in August 2005, my Russian skills had greatly diminished; I spoke something I referred to as Spanglorusskikonglish.

I was in Russia from August 2005 through June 2006, during which time my Russian language skills returned to roughly the same level they were at my time of graduation. Of course, this was mainly due to the fact that I lived with a host family and took regular Russian lessons, as most of my friends were English speakers.

After leaving Russia, I spent a year in Korea. Despite three trips to Korea, my Korean is still essentially nonexistent. I can order food, purchase things, ask for directions and direct a taxi to my destination. I can even tell people that I’m an English teacher from the United States. But that’s it; that’s the extent of my Korean. Nonetheless, after a year of hearing only Korean spoken (and occasionally struggling to study it), my Russian levels once again dropped.

I came to Bishkek – a predominantly Russian speaking city – in January of this year, and I was pleased to discover that my Russian comprehension was still quite high. Unfortunately, I haven’t gotten much language practice since I’ve been here. In general, my Russian speaking consists of practicalities: ordering food, purchasing things, asking for directions, directing taxis and telling people where I’m from and what I’m doing here. I live alone, don’t have time for Russian lessons, most of my friends are English speakers, and the school’s staff (for the most part) speaks English. Additionally, for most Kyrgyz speakers of Russian, Russian is their second language, and their spoken Russian is often filled with mistakes. (Case endings? Who needs those?)

It wasn’t until my trip to Karakol with Sara and Sasha from Vladimir that I realized just how bad my spoken Russian had become. Our trip was really the first time since leaving Vladimir that I’d had a lengthy conversation in Russian in which I couldn’t cheat by replying in English. The realization of the quality of my spoken Russian – or lack thereof – was hammered home the other night at Anton’s when one of the Russian guys told me, “Your accent is okay, but your grammar is terrible!” Sigh.

I can’t decide how I feel about this.

One of the main reasons I went to Russia in 2005 was to rebuild my Russian so that I could get a job with an NGO working with Russia. However, by now you probably know that I completely changed course while in Russia. Now I want to focus on teaching EFL/ESL, and eventually, I’ll probably get my MA in TESOL or Applied Linguistics.

I’m not sure how Russian fits into all of this. As it is, I’m currently trying (albeit not too successfully) to study Kyrgyz, and I’m even thinking about teaching in the Middle East next year. I’d hate to lose my Russian skills, but I’m not certain that there will be much benefit to knowing Russian in my future, and therefore I’m not entirely sure that it would be worth the effort I’d need to expend to keep it up.

Meanwhile, so many of my students simply don’t seem to understand that effort is required to learn a foreign language. Here’s a set of the sort of questions I am asked all the time: 

How can I learn English faster? 

I need to speak fluent English by [date in the near future]; what can I do? 

How quickly can I reach Advanced level? 

Can I move up a level? (Inevitably followed by an indignant Why not?) 

My advice to all of them is that they simply must study and practice constantly; they must stop worrying about skipping levels and focus on learning everything they need to know to pass their current level by heart. So many seem to think that there must be some way to learn English – or any foreign language – overnight and there simply isn’t.