Earlier today I taught my American Studies class—the students are in their 4th year, and are planning on becoming teachers themselves. They really are wonderful to work with—they are interested, ask questions, and I find them to be irresistible. How often do you get to walk into a building and have everyone rush up to say hello, compliment your outfit, and tell you about where they have been in the States? It’s going to be hard coming back to KU after this experience. I’ve asked if I can continue working with this group next semester, even though my language classes at the university end in December. It really is a high point of the week, and really energizes me for some of my other projects.
This morning, I planned to talk about American holidays. However, the class took a different turn as students started asking questions about the States. They were interested in knowing about what sports people play/watch (by the way—Mom and Dad, you need to move the television BACK to my room. The Red Sox lost 3 straight to Cleveland after you switched televisions around!!), movies, and pop culture. One of the students asked why Americans don’t like pop music, and what sort of music they listen to instead. I couldn’t resist—I had my computer with me, and played a bit of Guns-N-Roses for them to listen to. When I looked around, everyone had an expression of abject horror on their faces. My students then asked if “Americans really listen to THAT?”. They couldn’t understand why some people might prefer GNR to Brittney Spears. The cultural difference can be vast sometimes!
Tomorrow I will be making a presentation at Ablai Khan University on ‘opportunities for change in the educational system in Kazakhstan’. Of course, I only found out about this conference at noon today, and am presenting at 10am tomorrow. Apparently, after the Ambassador from Greece, Ambassador from Germany, and United Nations Delegate all cancelled at the last minute, I am the next best thing. Or something. But I get to have my picture taken and my presentation recorded in the university journal. I’ve been told that I can put a “photographed publication” on my CV, too. In the evening, I’m attending a reception at the US Consulate for the former Ambassador to Finland. It should be a busy day, in exalted (?) company. One of my favorite things about Almaty is never knowing what strange and wonderful situations you find yourself in.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Observations on Almaty
Almaty is a great city, and a fascinating place to live. But I could not imagine living here without the years of preparation. Things happen that you cannot imagine, but are just part of everyday life. The only way to deal with them is to laugh and to shrug things off as much as possible. I thought I’d share some of my favorites.
Bookstores where not all of the books are for sale—only the books on certain shelves. If you pick up a book on one of the other shelves, the woman who works there (and whose hair is a strange shade of burgundy not found in nature) will take it out of your hand and scold you.
15-page menus, but you need to ask the (surly) waitress what is actually available
Water that is turned on and off at random. No one knows why, or when it will be turned back on. It can take weeks sometimes (we lost hot water for a week, and my landlady’s friend had no hot water for 3 weeks). Ditto for gas. And electricity.
Controlling the temperature by opening/closing the window.
The complete absence of clothes dryers.
Lint. On everything. Because the agitator (not washing machine, as I noted in an earlier posting) doesn’t have a lint filter.
Dust. Also on everything. And everywhere.
Probki, probki, probki. There are traffic jams everywhere. It can take 2 ½ hours for a trip that should take 35 minutes. (probki= traffic jam)
Crowded buses. 125 people crammed into a space meant for no more than 50, with no one getting upset. Then there are the people who take advantage of the crowding to get closer than they probably should, and just smile at you when you remove their hand from some portion of your anatomy.
All of these are just part of life here, and aren’t going to change. It’s a great way to learn patience—I’ve found that the most invaluable thing to have brought from home is a sense of humor. Some days, it’s like living in a painting by Salvador Dali since everything is so surreal. As my friend Sarah from KU recently commented, fieldwork is like living someone else’s life. I couldn’t agree more!!
Bookstores where not all of the books are for sale—only the books on certain shelves. If you pick up a book on one of the other shelves, the woman who works there (and whose hair is a strange shade of burgundy not found in nature) will take it out of your hand and scold you.
15-page menus, but you need to ask the (surly) waitress what is actually available
Water that is turned on and off at random. No one knows why, or when it will be turned back on. It can take weeks sometimes (we lost hot water for a week, and my landlady’s friend had no hot water for 3 weeks). Ditto for gas. And electricity.
Controlling the temperature by opening/closing the window.
The complete absence of clothes dryers.
Lint. On everything. Because the agitator (not washing machine, as I noted in an earlier posting) doesn’t have a lint filter.
Dust. Also on everything. And everywhere.
Probki, probki, probki. There are traffic jams everywhere. It can take 2 ½ hours for a trip that should take 35 minutes. (probki= traffic jam)
Crowded buses. 125 people crammed into a space meant for no more than 50, with no one getting upset. Then there are the people who take advantage of the crowding to get closer than they probably should, and just smile at you when you remove their hand from some portion of your anatomy.
All of these are just part of life here, and aren’t going to change. It’s a great way to learn patience—I’ve found that the most invaluable thing to have brought from home is a sense of humor. Some days, it’s like living in a painting by Salvador Dali since everything is so surreal. As my friend Sarah from KU recently commented, fieldwork is like living someone else’s life. I couldn’t agree more!!
Celebrations
It seems that there are quite a few celebrations this time of year. As I mentioned before, there was just the city’s birthday. It was soon followed by the end of Ramasan/Ramadan (it’s called both over here). I didn’t see much evidence of Ramadan being observed—although it may well have been. However, the celebrations marking the ending of the fasting were quite notable. Friday night, people were out all over the city. Bakeries were emptied of their cakes and pastries, and there seemed to be quite a bit of alcohol being sold in the stores. Several of my friends gathered to have an American-style dinner, and to decompress after what had been a rather long and difficult week. It was the first time I’ve had the opportunity to sample Sovyetskaya Champagne (Soviet Champagne). Hmmm…probably the last time, too. It’s rather strong, and not particularly good. Think Boone Farm and you won’t be far off.
Last night, I had the opportunity to experience a different type of celebration. Olya, the daughter of my landlords, turned 15 and there was a large family dinner in her honor. She invited me to the party, and I had the chance to see how a Russian family holds a birthday party. It was a multi-course meal, beginning with many types of salads, breads, pelmini (think Russian tortellini, served with smetana—a rich and delicious sour cream)and cold cuts. The second course was roasted chicken, potatoes, and was followed by a strawberry torte, profiteroles, and tea. There was also lots of vodka and wine. I hadn’t realized that you cannot take a sip without someone offering a toast to the guest of honor (Olga—Olya is a diminutive form). It’s a good thing that I didn’t have far to go after dinner—just next door. My landlords have really ensured that I feel at home, and it was a special treat to be included in the birthday celebrations. I will return the favor, and have invited them to my apartment for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.
The Day of Independence is coming up soon—October 25th. I’m looking forward to seeing what types of celebrations can be seen throughout the city. I plan on leaving my apartment early—with my camera—and exploring the different areas of the city for the day. It’s fascinating to see what you can stumble across just by walking around different neighborhoods.
Last night, I had the opportunity to experience a different type of celebration. Olya, the daughter of my landlords, turned 15 and there was a large family dinner in her honor. She invited me to the party, and I had the chance to see how a Russian family holds a birthday party. It was a multi-course meal, beginning with many types of salads, breads, pelmini (think Russian tortellini, served with smetana—a rich and delicious sour cream)and cold cuts. The second course was roasted chicken, potatoes, and was followed by a strawberry torte, profiteroles, and tea. There was also lots of vodka and wine. I hadn’t realized that you cannot take a sip without someone offering a toast to the guest of honor (Olga—Olya is a diminutive form). It’s a good thing that I didn’t have far to go after dinner—just next door. My landlords have really ensured that I feel at home, and it was a special treat to be included in the birthday celebrations. I will return the favor, and have invited them to my apartment for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.
The Day of Independence is coming up soon—October 25th. I’m looking forward to seeing what types of celebrations can be seen throughout the city. I plan on leaving my apartment early—with my camera—and exploring the different areas of the city for the day. It’s fascinating to see what you can stumble across just by walking around different neighborhoods.
Rock and Roll, Almaty style
Last Tuesday, I turned off my lights at about ten to go to sleep—I teach early on Wednesday mornings, so usually don’t stay up too late the night before. I had just started to drift off to sleep, when I suddenly began dreaming that my bed was vibrating. But it wasn’t a dream. It was one of Almaty’s many earthquakes. The walls of the building were all shaking, and I began having flashbacks to the earthquake drills we had in second grade in Monterey, CA. The quake went on for several minutes, but it was about two hours before I could fall back asleep. My friends on the other side of the city had no idea that there was an earthquake—it mainly seemed to affect the city center. Definitely not an experience I’d want to repeat anytime soon, though!
As a result of conversations about the quake, though, I learned that my apartment building is one “Stalin-style”. I’m not quite sure about how I feel about that, but I’m told that these buildings are MUCH more desirable than the Khrushchev-era buildings. It’s easy to see why—the Stalin-era buildings are smaller, only 4-5 floors, as opposed to 15-20 floors. The construction is also supposed to be somewhat better, and they are definitely much more attractive.
Other than the earthquake, life has been fairly calm here in Almaty. As I noted before, the university faculty took me to see a ballet about a week and a half ago. It was “Legends of Lovers”, and was a Turkish ballet. Very different than what I’m accustomed to seeing—although beautiful. The symbolism was difficult to interpret without a program (which I only had after the ballet ended, but at least I could read what the different scenes were supposed to represent). The day we went to the ballet was also the day that the city’s birthday is celebrated. There were gatherings at many different sites throughout the city, but the largest was at the Old Square. It is located in the shadow of what had been the government center of the Kazakh Soviet Socialist Republic. Normally, the major celebrations would have been at New Square, but there is quite a bit of construction. New Square is on the other side of the city, and the location of the 1986 Alma-Ala riots that occurred at the beginning of the protests that helped to end the Soviet Union—more on these at a later time, though. They deserve their own description.
Arriving at Old Square, one of the faculty members was able to convince the police to allow me and another visiting American to take pictures from the official stands. It was quite a show! The band was “Dveri”, or “Doors”. But they didn’t resemble “The Doors” in any way other than the name. Cheesy pop music, complete with lip synching and choreographed dance moves. Not a single brooding, disgruntled teenager in sight. Instead, it was a sea of people dancing, singing, and celebrating. It was a fantastic experience to be able to take part in the event.
Music over here is very much in the Euro-pop vein, but raised to the nth degree. Even with my love of 80s music (how many people do you know who can sing along to almost anything by the Pet Shop Boys, Falco, and Erasure?), the music here is quite cheesy. It’s not unusual to hear that great mid-80s anthem by the well-known (??) band Opus—“Live is Life" (If you want to know the words, they are something along the lines of “We all need the music, we all need the power, every minute, every hour. Live! Live is Life! Na na na na na”. Repeat as needed.) The song was drilled into my head in 1985-86, in Germany. Imagine being at a beerfest and hearing everyone in the beer tent sing along. Every half-hour. Over and over again.
Most days here, I leave the radio off as much as possible and instead listen to music on my computer. On the days that I do listen to the radio for any length of time, I find that I need to play Guns-n-Roses as loudly as possible (which is actually not loud at all). There’s just something about hearing the guitar at the beginning of “Welcome to the Jungle”. Or any guitar, for that matter. Strange the things you miss--I never would have thought that I'd wish my collection of guitar music was larger.
As a result of conversations about the quake, though, I learned that my apartment building is one “Stalin-style”. I’m not quite sure about how I feel about that, but I’m told that these buildings are MUCH more desirable than the Khrushchev-era buildings. It’s easy to see why—the Stalin-era buildings are smaller, only 4-5 floors, as opposed to 15-20 floors. The construction is also supposed to be somewhat better, and they are definitely much more attractive.
Other than the earthquake, life has been fairly calm here in Almaty. As I noted before, the university faculty took me to see a ballet about a week and a half ago. It was “Legends of Lovers”, and was a Turkish ballet. Very different than what I’m accustomed to seeing—although beautiful. The symbolism was difficult to interpret without a program (which I only had after the ballet ended, but at least I could read what the different scenes were supposed to represent). The day we went to the ballet was also the day that the city’s birthday is celebrated. There were gatherings at many different sites throughout the city, but the largest was at the Old Square. It is located in the shadow of what had been the government center of the Kazakh Soviet Socialist Republic. Normally, the major celebrations would have been at New Square, but there is quite a bit of construction. New Square is on the other side of the city, and the location of the 1986 Alma-Ala riots that occurred at the beginning of the protests that helped to end the Soviet Union—more on these at a later time, though. They deserve their own description.
Arriving at Old Square, one of the faculty members was able to convince the police to allow me and another visiting American to take pictures from the official stands. It was quite a show! The band was “Dveri”, or “Doors”. But they didn’t resemble “The Doors” in any way other than the name. Cheesy pop music, complete with lip synching and choreographed dance moves. Not a single brooding, disgruntled teenager in sight. Instead, it was a sea of people dancing, singing, and celebrating. It was a fantastic experience to be able to take part in the event.
Music over here is very much in the Euro-pop vein, but raised to the nth degree. Even with my love of 80s music (how many people do you know who can sing along to almost anything by the Pet Shop Boys, Falco, and Erasure?), the music here is quite cheesy. It’s not unusual to hear that great mid-80s anthem by the well-known (??) band Opus—“Live is Life" (If you want to know the words, they are something along the lines of “We all need the music, we all need the power, every minute, every hour. Live! Live is Life! Na na na na na”. Repeat as needed.) The song was drilled into my head in 1985-86, in Germany. Imagine being at a beerfest and hearing everyone in the beer tent sing along. Every half-hour. Over and over again.
Most days here, I leave the radio off as much as possible and instead listen to music on my computer. On the days that I do listen to the radio for any length of time, I find that I need to play Guns-n-Roses as loudly as possible (which is actually not loud at all). There’s just something about hearing the guitar at the beginning of “Welcome to the Jungle”. Or any guitar, for that matter. Strange the things you miss--I never would have thought that I'd wish my collection of guitar music was larger.
Monday, October 8, 2007
ballet
Well, last night was my first opportunity to see a ballet performed live. It was a Turkish production of "Legendary Lovers". Quite an experience--I'll write more about it later on. Following the ballet, it was off to a concert in the center of the city--right next the building that was seat of government during the Soviet Union. There is NOTHING quite like seeing "The Doors" performing in Russian in downtown Almaty. Of course, "The Doors" is the translation of their name. They were actually more like "Take That" or some other lip-synching boy band. Wow. What can be said??? It was an absolutely wonderful time--my friend convinced the police that I was a member of the press, so we were able to go into the restricted areas and take pictures. It was a fantastic night--and definitely one to remember. Right now, it's time to do some homework, so I'll keep this short. However, I did want to post a picture from the ballet last night--I hear some little boys in Kansas want to see if their aunt looks different over here. You be the judge!
Cris
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Adventures in the City--exploring, bookstores, and hot water
I have been meaning to sit down and write every evening this past week, but by the time dinner is done and there is time to write, I’ve been too exhausted to gather enough energy to do so. Instead, it’s been early to bed in a mostly-unsuccessful attempt to shake off a sinus infection. Hopefully it’s a little better today—or maybe it’s just the effects of the glass of Old Tblisi I had with dinner.
The Critical Language Program is helping in ways that I could not have imagined—particularly with contacts at one of the local universities. I teach at two different campuses (which actually means two separate buildings in different parts of the city) and have come to realize that it will be difficult to transition to teaching in the states when I return home. As an American—and particularly as Fulbright student/PhD candidate/American—you become something of a local celebrity. I have about 200 students total in all of my classes, and many of them come rushing over to say hello when I pass by on the street or on the way to lecture (sometimes I think I should just wave regally while walking through the building). Each class ends at least 10 minutes late, as students want to share stories, offer assistance showing me around town, or ask questions. Talk about an ego-boost (not that one is necessary)! My American Studies class, in particular, is one of the high points of my week. I’m only committed to teaching for the fall semester, but will probably work something out with the university to teach occasionally during the spring semester.
The American Studies course is taught through the Romance and Germanic Language Faculty at the university, and the faculty members have taken it upon themselves to show me around the city. Last Sunday, six faculty/grad students took me on a walking tour of Almaty—lasting eight hours in total. It was absolutely fascinating! We started with a tour of Zhenkov Cathedral, which I’ve mentioned earlier. During the Soviet era, it was the Museum of History, but has since been restored as a Russian Orthodox Church. Just behind the church is an eternal flame, dedicated to soldiers from the region that died during WWII. There is also a massive sculpture depicting soldiers from the 15 Soviet republics, bursting out of a map of the USSR. At the very end of the prospect, there are marble boxes containing soil from the “hero cities” of the USSR—Stalingrad, Leningrad, Moscow, Sevastopol, and other cities where large numbers of citizens and soldiers died during WWII. One of the faculty members lost her grandfather at Stalingrad, and it was very poignant as she explained how she and her mother visit the monument each May 9th (a day of remembrance) to leave flowers.
After viewing the monument, we then walked through other regions of the city and eventually ended up at the cable car to Kok Tobe—a slope uphill of the city, where the television tower is located. It was a rather harrowing ride in the cable car—particularly if you are absolutely terrified of heights! Everyone wanted to take a picture with me on the ride, so—for those of you acquainted with my acute phobia, particularly—imagine if you will what was necessary to keep smiling and not let on how scared I was. Once we arrived at the top, we had a wonderful picnic lunch overlooking the city—tea, cakes, chocolates, sandwiches, and more. There is quite an array of things to do/see at the observatory—including a zoo, gluhwein stand (without gluhwein, of course!), photo of Steven Seagal visiting the area, and a pre-teen belly-dancing competition. And all that is before you reach the bench with the statues of the Beatles. It was absolutely fascinating, and wonderful to experience. Of course, my new friends had a wonderful time pointing to different areas of the city below us and asking what was there, or asking if I could identify where I lived. They were amazed that someone—let alone a foreigner—could do so. Their excitement was incredibly infectious, as well as endearing.
We ended the day by visiting the new location of the Museum of History. I can see that I will be spending a great deal of time there in the future—the displays were fascinating, particularly those relating to diasporas in Kazakhstan. Pictures are not allowed, so it will be me and a notebook—there is easily a chapter of my dissertation just within the walls of the yurt-shaped building! The senior faculty member is Kazakh, and she was able to explain so many of the displays, and to give a unique perspective. It was also amazing to see the Atlas of the Kazakh Soviet Socialist Republic on display—particularly since it is the same atlas that I had in my office back in Kansas.
By the time I returned home, I was completely exhausted. Eight hours of walking—and of conversing in as much Russian as possible—was incredibly tiring. Especially since I had walked about 12 miles the day before! Next weekend, we are scheduled to go out to Charyn Canyon. It’s about 3 hours from here, and is supposed to be the Kazakh “Grand Canyon”. I’m looking forward to the trip, particularly since one of the faculty members going is around my age and seems determined to become a good friend. I enjoy the people I work with, and also the other Fulbrighters here, but it would be nice to develop a social network outside of these confines. Although, I’ve been incredibly fortunate in my landlords as well—they have welcomed me into their family and have shown me around some of the parks and the local bazaar.
After a month here, life is beginning to settle into a routine. Teaching and Russian lessons take up much of the day, and the walk home usually entails a stop at the market to see what is for dinner that night. On my days off, I take my city map and go exploring. The only rule is that I spend at least 2 or 3 hours actively walking. Since I live in the old downtown area, nearly everyplace is uphill from here—definitely good exercise! There’s a bookstore about ½ mile away from my apartment, with a large selection of Agatha Christie mysteries. It is always a temptation—particularly since a book costs about $2. And, yes, they do have a selection of Victoria Holt novels as well. Apparently, her books are considered modern literary masterpieces. Of course, there are only three plots to choose from, even though there are 30-40 books in total (having read all of her books in 7th and 8th grades, I can attest to that fact personally). I have to admit, I have read 2 or 3 since arriving here—and they are as bad as I remember them being. Of course, there is tremendous entertainment value from the camp factor in the books (which, I’m sure, was never intended by the author). Right now, though, I’m working on my Russian language and reading a translation of “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”.
Although life is settling into a routine, there is always one factor that has to be accounted for—the unexpected. You just never know what will happen—and when something will happen. Right now, the city is preparing to turn on the heat for the winter. This event occurs on the 15th of October, and before then the pipes must all be tested. What does this mean? Well, for my friends living on the fringes of the city—they had no gas for nearly a week. That meant that they could not do any cooking until the gas came back on. In my apartment—at least I can cook. But I have no hot water. There is plenty of cold water, though—emphasis on the “cold”. Or maybe it should be icy. I have to boil water for dishes or to wash. We don’t know when there will be hot water again—according to my landlady, her friend had no hot water for 10 days. It’s day 3 now, and I’m praying for hot water by tomorrow. But…at least it is better than it was during Hurricane Bob in 1991, when the only water for over a week was what could be brought in buckets from one of the local ponds. What amazes me more than anything else over here is that no one is upset. It is just the way things are, and these things are to be expected. It really is the best attitude to have, though. There is nothing that can be done about the situation, and it is more endurable if you just have patience.
Well, that’s it for now. It’s nearly 9pm and I’m going to indulge in a second glass of Old Tblisi and watch a movie. Too bad that I can’t play Russian DVDs on my computer, though—“Garry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” was just released over here (and that’s not a typo—it is Garry Potter over here).
The Critical Language Program is helping in ways that I could not have imagined—particularly with contacts at one of the local universities. I teach at two different campuses (which actually means two separate buildings in different parts of the city) and have come to realize that it will be difficult to transition to teaching in the states when I return home. As an American—and particularly as Fulbright student/PhD candidate/American—you become something of a local celebrity. I have about 200 students total in all of my classes, and many of them come rushing over to say hello when I pass by on the street or on the way to lecture (sometimes I think I should just wave regally while walking through the building). Each class ends at least 10 minutes late, as students want to share stories, offer assistance showing me around town, or ask questions. Talk about an ego-boost (not that one is necessary)! My American Studies class, in particular, is one of the high points of my week. I’m only committed to teaching for the fall semester, but will probably work something out with the university to teach occasionally during the spring semester.
The American Studies course is taught through the Romance and Germanic Language Faculty at the university, and the faculty members have taken it upon themselves to show me around the city. Last Sunday, six faculty/grad students took me on a walking tour of Almaty—lasting eight hours in total. It was absolutely fascinating! We started with a tour of Zhenkov Cathedral, which I’ve mentioned earlier. During the Soviet era, it was the Museum of History, but has since been restored as a Russian Orthodox Church. Just behind the church is an eternal flame, dedicated to soldiers from the region that died during WWII. There is also a massive sculpture depicting soldiers from the 15 Soviet republics, bursting out of a map of the USSR. At the very end of the prospect, there are marble boxes containing soil from the “hero cities” of the USSR—Stalingrad, Leningrad, Moscow, Sevastopol, and other cities where large numbers of citizens and soldiers died during WWII. One of the faculty members lost her grandfather at Stalingrad, and it was very poignant as she explained how she and her mother visit the monument each May 9th (a day of remembrance) to leave flowers.
After viewing the monument, we then walked through other regions of the city and eventually ended up at the cable car to Kok Tobe—a slope uphill of the city, where the television tower is located. It was a rather harrowing ride in the cable car—particularly if you are absolutely terrified of heights! Everyone wanted to take a picture with me on the ride, so—for those of you acquainted with my acute phobia, particularly—imagine if you will what was necessary to keep smiling and not let on how scared I was. Once we arrived at the top, we had a wonderful picnic lunch overlooking the city—tea, cakes, chocolates, sandwiches, and more. There is quite an array of things to do/see at the observatory—including a zoo, gluhwein stand (without gluhwein, of course!), photo of Steven Seagal visiting the area, and a pre-teen belly-dancing competition. And all that is before you reach the bench with the statues of the Beatles. It was absolutely fascinating, and wonderful to experience. Of course, my new friends had a wonderful time pointing to different areas of the city below us and asking what was there, or asking if I could identify where I lived. They were amazed that someone—let alone a foreigner—could do so. Their excitement was incredibly infectious, as well as endearing.
We ended the day by visiting the new location of the Museum of History. I can see that I will be spending a great deal of time there in the future—the displays were fascinating, particularly those relating to diasporas in Kazakhstan. Pictures are not allowed, so it will be me and a notebook—there is easily a chapter of my dissertation just within the walls of the yurt-shaped building! The senior faculty member is Kazakh, and she was able to explain so many of the displays, and to give a unique perspective. It was also amazing to see the Atlas of the Kazakh Soviet Socialist Republic on display—particularly since it is the same atlas that I had in my office back in Kansas.
By the time I returned home, I was completely exhausted. Eight hours of walking—and of conversing in as much Russian as possible—was incredibly tiring. Especially since I had walked about 12 miles the day before! Next weekend, we are scheduled to go out to Charyn Canyon. It’s about 3 hours from here, and is supposed to be the Kazakh “Grand Canyon”. I’m looking forward to the trip, particularly since one of the faculty members going is around my age and seems determined to become a good friend. I enjoy the people I work with, and also the other Fulbrighters here, but it would be nice to develop a social network outside of these confines. Although, I’ve been incredibly fortunate in my landlords as well—they have welcomed me into their family and have shown me around some of the parks and the local bazaar.
After a month here, life is beginning to settle into a routine. Teaching and Russian lessons take up much of the day, and the walk home usually entails a stop at the market to see what is for dinner that night. On my days off, I take my city map and go exploring. The only rule is that I spend at least 2 or 3 hours actively walking. Since I live in the old downtown area, nearly everyplace is uphill from here—definitely good exercise! There’s a bookstore about ½ mile away from my apartment, with a large selection of Agatha Christie mysteries. It is always a temptation—particularly since a book costs about $2. And, yes, they do have a selection of Victoria Holt novels as well. Apparently, her books are considered modern literary masterpieces. Of course, there are only three plots to choose from, even though there are 30-40 books in total (having read all of her books in 7th and 8th grades, I can attest to that fact personally). I have to admit, I have read 2 or 3 since arriving here—and they are as bad as I remember them being. Of course, there is tremendous entertainment value from the camp factor in the books (which, I’m sure, was never intended by the author). Right now, though, I’m working on my Russian language and reading a translation of “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”.
Although life is settling into a routine, there is always one factor that has to be accounted for—the unexpected. You just never know what will happen—and when something will happen. Right now, the city is preparing to turn on the heat for the winter. This event occurs on the 15th of October, and before then the pipes must all be tested. What does this mean? Well, for my friends living on the fringes of the city—they had no gas for nearly a week. That meant that they could not do any cooking until the gas came back on. In my apartment—at least I can cook. But I have no hot water. There is plenty of cold water, though—emphasis on the “cold”. Or maybe it should be icy. I have to boil water for dishes or to wash. We don’t know when there will be hot water again—according to my landlady, her friend had no hot water for 10 days. It’s day 3 now, and I’m praying for hot water by tomorrow. But…at least it is better than it was during Hurricane Bob in 1991, when the only water for over a week was what could be brought in buckets from one of the local ponds. What amazes me more than anything else over here is that no one is upset. It is just the way things are, and these things are to be expected. It really is the best attitude to have, though. There is nothing that can be done about the situation, and it is more endurable if you just have patience.
Well, that’s it for now. It’s nearly 9pm and I’m going to indulge in a second glass of Old Tblisi and watch a movie. Too bad that I can’t play Russian DVDs on my computer, though—“Garry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” was just released over here (and that’s not a typo—it is Garry Potter over here).
Monday, September 24, 2007
Pictures
My Internet connection here in Almaty is fairly slow--my apartment only had dial-up access, so it's difficult to post pictures because of the file size. I'm going to try to get a few posted a little later on today, but in the interim wanted to find out how long it will take to upload each picture. So, for your viewing pleasure, here's my favorite movie sign here in Almaty--Bourne's Ultimatum. The poster has since been replaced by those for the epic movie "Mongol" that opened here on Friday--hopefully I'll have some pictures of this one a little later on.
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