It is becoming difficult for me to determine what might be interesting to you, the reader, versus what I find interesting (nuanced Turkmen grammar, cultural differences between various regions, etc.). I have been here for so long (over 23 months as I’m typing these words) that new and exciting things don’t happen to me as often as they used to.

So, I thought I’d take a note from someone who hasn’t been here quite as long. During our close of service conference we had a cultural Olympics, one of the events was squatting. Earl, our country director wasn’t terribly excited about this event because he concluded that you only squat when going to the bathroom and that because there is ample amount of diarrhea amongst volunteers this is a frequent occurrence. So, in order to set Earl right and as an entertaining activity for those of you who question the poor quality of my knees after I return I have written a list of some of the activities done while squatting. This is not an all-inclusive list.

-Going to the bathroom

-Washing laundry

-Doing the dishes

-Peeling potatoes

-Cutting vegetables (this can occur for hours if you are preparing for a party)

-Filling my water bottle from my filter

-Waiting in line

-During the speeches made at wedding celebrations

-Chatting with my host family

-Conversing with my co-workers

-Cleaning my bedroom

-Brushing my teeth

-Snacking

-Resting while waiting in line

When I heard I was coming to Turkmenistan over two years ago and that it was an Islamic country I was excited to learn more about Islam and perhaps participate in Ramadan. When I arrived and saw that most Turkmen call themselves Muslim but very rarely are practicing their religion. Many, if not most, Turkmen drink large quantities of vodka, I have never seen anyone attend a call to prayer, in fact, we have a mosque in my village but it never announces prayer. I would absolutely hear it – it is located only 2 blocks from my house (one from my previous host family’s house).

Most readers will also know that I have fasted for three days each spring since I was 16. This year I did not fast. There were several reasons at the time and so I decided to hold off this year.

Therefore, two days ago when my host sister told me she was observing Ramadan and my host father said, “Kelsey, you should do it, it is very helpful for people” I thought about it for about a half an hour before I decided to participate.

A few notes: Ramadan starts in the evening so as I count days they start in the evening and end the next evening around 8pm when we’re allowed to eat dinner. According to my calendar Ramadan this year started Tuesday evening the 10th of August. My host sister started Wednesday evening the 11th and I found out about it Thursday evening the 12th. I anticipated starting on the 12th and asked my host sister to knock on my door when she woke up to do breakfast. She didn’t. When I asked why she neglected to wake me the next morning she informed me that if you don’t get up on your own volition you won’t be blessed: it won’t be a successful Ramadan.

I decided to get as much information about the rules as my host family saw them and then begin that evening – Friday the 13th.

Rules:

1) No food or drink while the sun is up.

2) No alcohol.

3) No swearing.

4) No bad deeds (being mean).

Friday evening I had my regular dinner and went to bed early (10ish). I set my alarm clock for 3:30 when I got up, made myself breakfast (coffee, boiled milk, bread with butter) and went back to bed around 4:30. I woke up to start the day at 7, read my bible, and went to work. It is now 9:40 am and I’m mildly hungry, but no more so than I would be at lunch time. The problem is that I have to wait until 8:15ish tonight before I can eat or drink anything. I will absolutely be taking a nap this afternoon and reserving all of my energy.

Last night and the night before (my villages official first and second day of Ramadan) small groups of children showed up at our house begging for sweets and candy. They would chant a saying that bestowed the giver of sweets with blessings for wealth and long life. It reminded me of a religious Halloween. The first night we had 4 groups of children and last night I lost count at about 7. My host mother said this was a lot of kids. All of the children who are observing Ramadan visit their neighbors who give them candy or cookies. My host father told me that this occurs on the first, second and third nights.

I finished Ramadan, I wasn’t a very faithful observer, but I did a lot better than the majority of Turkmen I know. Even my host sister, who was very observant for the first few weeks stopped in her observation because she had to go pick cotton.

It is that time of year again…cotton picking season. This year I opted to go with my co-workers. All doctors are required to put in a certain number of days picking cotton, actually all government workers are required to pick cotton.

Therefore this morning I got to work at 8am, waited until 8:30 when my co-workers were ready to go. Because villages are relatively small there are always cotton fields nearby. Because all of the doctors had to go to a specific field in order to get credit for going it took us a while to locate it as it was in a neighboring village.

10am arrived at the cotton field and dressed for work: long sleeve shirt over a long dress, socks, a head scarf and (for me) sunscreen. We picked cotton for the next hour and twenty minutes after which I was covered in a sheen of sweat only to find I had picked a grand total of 6 kg of cotton…

11:30 lunch time: Everyone grabbed their belongings and pulled out whatever odds and ends they brought to make a lunch. Lots of bread, some honey, fried potatoes, some bread fried with meat, and a lot of candy. Whoever owned the field was kind enough to provide lunch for everyone – there was a huge pot of boiling soup. Lots of broth, a little bit of everything else. And of course, tons of hot green tea.

12:30: after being goaded into drinking far too much tea to be good we waddled back into the field for another go around. This time we are out for nearly 2 hours. I spent the time enjoying some podcasts from the states and getting tons of scrapes and scratches all up and down my arms.

2:30: To my delight I find I’ve picked 9 kg over the past two hours! That puts my total up to 15. This year they are paying at the rate of 700 old manat/1.40 new manat (~$.50) per kilo. That means at the end of the day I’ve worked hard for four hours and earned enough to buy a snickers bar. Now, as a Peace Corps Volunteer I’m not allowed to accept money for anything I do and therefore couldn’t accept the money, but I think they’re going to buy me a snickers bar with my earnings anyway.

They didn’t end up buying me a snickers bar, instead I got two pairs of socks, not the super cool homemade socks that are awesome, but two pairs of normal everyday socks.

I was at a birthday party the other day – for my old host nephew who was turning 2. I was sitting in a room full of women, all his relatives and there was alcohol. T

he oldest woman in the room insisted on someone opening up the bottle so one of my previous host sisters (or sister in laws) opened it up and began asking who would drink. The older woman who is my counterpart’s mother – in – law and also Kervan’s Great Grandmother says, “Don’t ask, just pass it out!”. The younger woman complies and starts passing out cups and everyone is refusing. This isn’t a group of women that I normally drink with so I was surprised we were even going to attempt it. Drinks were passed out and the Great Grandmother refused to drink. She was the one who was adamantly pushing the vodka and she wouldn’t touch it. It turned out to be only a very few number of people who would drink. And after 10 minutes of constant pestering the Great Grandmother did have a shot, finally.

So, my entire mouth has broken out in canker sores and it is incredibly painful. I got back to site after seeing the PC doctor and was told by my co-workers I need to apply a paste of egg whites, narcotics and ampicillion to all of the sores. Now, I have no idea what that would do, but I already have medications so I think I’ll stick with those.

My host brother and I had a philosophical conversation last night on the differences between fruits and vegetables and animals for use as food products. My host brother is constantly making fun of me for not eating meat. Sometimes I find it annoying but usually it is entertaining. Last night he asked me why I didn’t eat meat and to the best of my ability I explained my reasons and that led to the conversation about killing items/animals to use as food. I argued that fruits and vegetables don’t have emotions and gave lots of examples. My host brother countered those arguments with things like “vegetables cry when you cut them”, “they are constantly growing”, “Their movement and the way they grow is their way of celebrating”, and “you kill the fruit or vegetable when you remove it from the tree”. I was most excited not that we were having this conversation but that I could follow it and contribute in a somewhat meaningful way.

We have guests from Ashgabat and Mary this week. Lots of children running around! One of the young boys from Ashgabat has been talking about seeing donkeys since he arrived. My host family found him a donkey (I was at work so I’m not real sure how this happened) and he was leading the donkey around on a long leash, similar to a dog. He even got yelled at when he brought the donkey into the outdoor area of our house and the donkey pooped. My host family told him to put the donkey away. He returned about 5 minutes later and they asked where he put the donkey. He wouldn’t tell them. So, then my family gets worried, they start telling this boy, “the donkey will die if it is in the sun, where did you put it? is it safe?, if it isn’t it will die”. My host brother went out to find the donkey and returned a little later saying that the donkey was safe and all was well. Those city kids…. (this is for you Grandma and Grandpa!).

The president…well anytime he visits everyone drops everything they are doing to clean up and get ready for his arrival. He isn’t even coming anywhere near us and all of my co-workers are required to assist in preparations. This means that once again, the grant progress has been halted.

My parents and sister came to Turkmenistan in March and our guide was a totally amazing, generous man. He went way beyond what I could ever have expected or anticipated. He videotaped everything and gave everyone copies of the DVD and it was really great. On my birthday he sent me a text message wishing me a happy birthday and last night he showed up at my house. He brought with him a large blow up of the picture of my host family and my family that was taken just before my family left the village. He also brought some nice snacks, a small Turkmenistan flag for me and additional copies of the DVD. He chatted with my host family, he and I discussed Turkmenistan’s history and water rights issues surrounding the Amu Daria which originates in the Aral Sea which, you may know, is rapidly disappearing. Jepar came to Lebap for a gathering of a bunch of friends and came early so he could see me, bring presents for my host family and myself. The generosity and giving nature of Turkmen will never cease to surprise me.

Yesterday was fresh bread day. Each time my host family makes fresh bread they tell me when it comes out of the oven and I eat a bunch with butter. It is soooo tasty! Yesterday I grabbed a round of bread and some butter from the refrigerator and went to start eating when my host mother saw the butter and looked at me with a disgusted face and said, “Don’t use that butter! It was made yesterday. Use the other butter, it was made today”. I love that I live in a place where butter is made fresh EVERY day.

Today, for dinner, my host father had goat meat and goat fat fried in butter then placed in a rather large teacup, topped with about two teaspoons of salt. Then top that with about a quarter of a loaf of bread and pour hot green tea over the entire concoction. It was quite interesting…

Day 3 – 4/7/10: I first encounter the silkworm. We are expecting the arrival of several Peace Corps staff members and my host brother says, “Kelsey! You have to come and see the gurçuk!”. The what?!?!?!? I obediently follow him out to the area next to our cattle and goat sleeping quarters where we store our potatoes and onions. He leads me into the main area and then into a side area that I have never been in before. The room has this slightly humid warm smell. There are four wires suspended from the ceiling and they are supporting this large wood structure, part of which is covered with a huge white piece of thick paper. On top of this paper is this mat of green. I look a little closer and realize this mat is alive and moving! On even closer inspection the mat is actually hundreds upon hundreds of freakishly tiny green worms and chunks of leaves. Bombyx mori – the silkworm. I run back to the house and try and grab a few pictures but due to the lighting they aren’t very good. These guys are about the thickness of a paperclip but only as long as the lead on a sharp pencil.

Day 7 – 4/11/10: On my way back from the outhouse I realize there are people in the silkworm room and decide to check on the little buggers to see how they’re coming along.

I have a bazaar fascination with living things – when I was younger we were camping through the Boundary Waters and I spent most of the evening staring at a group of snakes that we had disturbed with our presence. I also recall a several worms squirming through the post rain mist that nearly made me miss my bus. If you ask my mother I’m sure she could give many other examples.

But, back to the gurçuk. Today the worms are at least 5 times as long as they were just four days ago. I am totally blown away at their rate of growth. I had noticed from the piles of mulberry leaves that they must be increasing in size. The pile that my family prepared and cut was getting larger and larger every day, I just hadn’t realized their rate of growth was so steep.

Some background on the silkworm – bombyx mori. They exist on a diet of pure mulberry leaves. The worm gains a size of about 3 inches in its approximately 45 day existence. Their cocoons are one continuous strand of silk – they usually average 915 meters in length (1000 yards), but usable silk is between 600 and 900 meters. According to Encyclopedia Britanica the pupae are killed with hot steam in order to preserve the silk cocoons. I’m not looking forward to that aspect. But if allowed to turn into adults – each female lays 300 – 500 eggs. And their wingspan is about two inches in length. Silk production has been around since about the middle of the third century BC and the secret of sericulture was vigorously guarded by the Chinese until about 550 AD when Justinian I convinced several monks to smuggle back some worms. In order to use the silk 2 or 3 cocoons are unstrung at the same time and twisted into one piece of yarn. (This information was obtained through Encyclopedia Britanica)

I have decided to follow and document through words and pictures the life of this gurçuk. I am very excited! Who would have thought – I go to Turkmenistan and learn about silkworms!

Day 9 – 4/13/10: I decided to take some more pictures of them today. They are about ¼ the length of a matchstick. They are so cute. They’re getting more and more active. Today I spent about a half an hour staring at them and making cooing noises in their general direction. These silkworms will be fluent in English before their short lives are over! I still haven’t gotten any great pictures but I’ve decided to include some of the pictures I take so you can get a better idea of what they look like. The second picture has my host mother in the corner. The large mat of them has tripled in size over the past 9 days. Aren’t they just adorable?!?! They have these small horns on their butts, so cute!

Day 17 – 4/21/10: I am simply amazed at the volume of leaves they eat. My host family completely covers them with leaves at least 5 times a day and each time they have completely demolished the previous leaves. You walk into the room and you can hear their collective tiny mouths munching on the food at the same time their tiny butts are dumping the excess. The first picture from today was taken on day 12, the other is from today. I didn’t include the match in the most recent picture because all the worms are longer than the match and about three times the diameter. Like I said, they grow so fast!

Day 26 – 4/30/10: What magical creatures silkworms are! I just returned from helping with one of the five daily feedings. I tossed leaves haphazardly over the growing pile of sticks that was covered with worms now as long as my finger and nearly as thick. The room was alive with the stench of the collective crap from thousands of worms doing nothing but consuming leaves for nearly 4 weeks. My ears were buzzing with the melody of their tiny mouths going to town on a new pile of leaves. I had to be very careful not to step on any poor worms who fell from their perches down onto the ground. I rescued several dozen from the terrible fate of premature death by foot and as I picked them up I couldn’t help but feel very powerful, their soft squishy bodies seemed so vulnerable. It was as if I could feel their intestines moving those leaf bits through their system. When we started all of these worms took up the size of about 2 meters squared. Now they fill two rooms and they seem to crowd one another out on the branches and leaves. I am truly in wonder watching them. I think I got some good new pictures!

Day 34 – 5/8/10: Well, this is it. They have made cocoons. I walk into the room and it smells like rot and decay and moth balls. It turns out that several of the worms never made cocoons, I’m not real sure why, but those that didn’t are dead and rotting on the large pile of sticks.

The end 5/10/10: My host family sold the cocoons today. They ended up with 87 kilos of cocoons. They make 27,000 per kilo so they ended up making 2.35 million which is about $165 for a month worth of hard work. Pretty good income especially when supplemented by my host father teaching at the school. I hope you enjoyed this! I probably made it longer than it needed to be, but I really find living creatures very interesting.

Aylanmak: to take a walk, stroll, or travel around.

The carpet man, aka Serdar, lives just outside of Ashgabat and makes good money selling Turkmen and Afghan carpets to foreigners both in Turkmenistan and abroad. He and his wife are really nice people and I have visited his house twice in search of carpets, once when my family came and a second time with another volunteer on July 3rd.

Serdar’s family is originally from the region of Turkmenistan that I live in. His family fled Turkmenistan for Afghanistan when the Russians arrived. Serdar was born in Afghanistan. When war came to Afghanistan they fled to Pakistan. He returned to Turkmenistan with his family in the mid 90’s. Carpet making in Turkmenistan has moved away from what it traditionally was. Most carpets made now are made with synthetic dyes and only made to last 10 years or so. Traditionally carpets were made to last forever. Because Serdar and his family weren’t here for the transition to synthetics he still knows how to make all of the dyes by hand, how to take care of the naturally dyed carpets, and how to wash them without bleeding. As far as I know he may be the only person in the country who still uses traditional dyes. Serdar obtained his Turkmen citizenship shortly after arriving back in Turkmenistan and got married shortly after that.

Back to the story: after the second visit Serdar’s wife mentioned that Serdar would be traveling to visit some of the girls who make carpets for him in Halach (my local county). She asked Jess and I if we would like to aylanjak (future tense) with him. We replied with enthusiasm.

He arrived in the region on Monday and didn’t call. Tuesday his wife called Jess and said he might take us out then. He didn’t call. Wednesday he called me at 9am and asked if I would be ready if he picked me up at 11 that day. I said yes!

11:00am: Serdar arrives in my village and we travel towards Halach center and stop on the way. There are six girls who are about to cut a 4m by 3m silk carpet from the loom. We watch as they cut the carpet down and tie off the fringes on the ends. Serdar folds the carpet and puts it in the trunk.

12:00pm: We travel to a village just outside of Halach center where Serdar is using a small house owned by one of the families who makes carpets. We drop off the carpet, I take a bunch of pictures of all the yarn he has in this house. The colors are simply beautiful!

12:30pm: We go and pick up Jess from her village and then return to this village outside Halach.

1:15pm: Lunch: beef stew with potatoes, peppers and tomatoes, bread, yogurt, watermelon, cantaloupe and beer.

3:00pm: Visit at least 10 different houses to look at carpets. Each tribe in Turkmenistan has its own carpet pattern. We saw several of these patterns as we were traveling. Jess saw a pattern that involved the five main tribes ‘flowers’ in one carpet and decided she needed to buy another carpet.

Carpet stats: Serdar has girls and women in each welayate (region) making carpets for him. There are over 100 girls just in my region. The silk carpet that I mentioned above took 6 girls 3 – 4 months to make. For each square meter the girls collectively get 1.5 million old manat (about $100). They split that money up according to the amount of work done. For the large carpets the person whose house it is and whose loom it is gets a percentage of the money and the rest goes to the girls.

4:30pm: Watermelon break followed by an hour nap. The sun is so intense here that at least 90% of people take afternoon naps sometimes sleeping as much as 3 hours in the afternoon.

6:00pm: Serdar takes Jess and I to see the Amu Daria. I have only seen it once before and we weren’t allowed to get out of the vehicle to actually get a good look at it. The section of the river we saw was 2km wide. It was absolutely astonishing how large it really was. The water by us was moving very slowly but we could hear rapids and see the water towards the middle of the river bubbling and turning as it sped along.

7:00pm: Return to my village. Tell my host family about the trip. Onat aylandyk (great trip - past tense)!

Tears are an interesting cultural phenomenon, well, more specifically crying.

Weddings in Turkmenistan are huge, long affairs. They are usually at least four days of formal activities plus sometimes small family celebrations both before and after the actual wedding. On the final day of wedding there is a lunch at the bride’s family’s house. All of the women in the bride’s family gather around her and have a last meal. After the meal all of the very small children gather around the bride (who is wearing a velvet dress, probably 40 pounds of gold and ornamental jewelry and has her hair braided down to her waist using fake hair). The small girls cling to her like their life is dependent upon it and they place their heads in the brides lap and cry. The bride covers her face and she cries. It is symbolic of a time when your wedding meant a total removal from your family and the fact that you may never see them again.

The crying goes on for about 10 minutes until the women from the groom’s family arrive. They then pry the small girls one by one from the bride and shove them in the opposite direction. When the bride is by herself they lift her from the ground and lead her out the door to an awaiting vehicle. The vehicles bumper is covered with more small children – both boys and girls – who are also crying. The bride has her face covered this entire time with a small white cloth and is supposed to be crying.

The tears in probably 90% of weddings are fake. If the girl getting married loves the man she is about to marry it is all a show, however, I have seen real tears. You can tell because the atmosphere in the room with the bride is completely different. If there are fake tears everyone else in the room is joking around, laughing, and generally really happy. If the tears are real everyone is upset. Remember, the room with the bride is filled with all of the female members of her extended family and her friends. The weddings I’ve been to with real tears are girls who are getting married to a man they hardly know, or getting married quickly after finding out that their boyfriend married another girl.

I got into a taxi to travel from Charjew back home. There were two passengers already sitting down, both men. I put my ipod headphones in my ears and lean back and relax. The man sitting in the back seat with me reaches across my legs and into the seatback pocket of the drivers’ seat. He pulls out a half empty bottle of vodka and proceeds to pour himself a shot. I rode the entire way back (over 2 hours) with this man’s pores leaking putrid stale vodka. Luckily he slept most of the way and wasn’t loud or obnoxious.

On one of my many trips back from Charjew we pass three tractors. They are all exactly the same, brand new, beautiful, and each and every one of them had a picture of the current president in the upper corner of the drivers’ side of the front window. A rather large picture – from where I was sitting I could not see the drivers of any of these tractors, just the presidents face and the body of a person sitting behind his head.

Last night I went guesting (a dinner visit with another family or friend) and the family I visited had the most quaint potholder. They had taken an old pair of jeans, ripped the back pockets off and tied them together with a very long string. Now, I’m not sure why they didn’t have just one, but I guess maybe having a set of two attached would be helpful for carrying big pots of things. They only thing I saw it used for was the teapot. Then they would use one pocket to hold the handle and the other pocket was held in the other hand.

On the road from Charjew home there was very suddenly some disturbance in front of us on the road. A police car with its siren blazing (something I have never heard here before) and a second one followed very closely behind. We pulled over to the side of the road and what should appear but eight boys on bicycles riding down the road. They were followed by an ambulance, a bus, three regular vehicles and an additional two police cars. The last police car was holding back the traffic behind to be sure they wouldn’t try and pass the boys on bikes.

Last night after eating dinner with my host family we were sitting down and watching some TV (Turkmen music videos) and a ‘commercial’ came on that was about this sports center – it looked like it had a ton of state of the art exercise equipment. I asked, “Where does that exist in this country?” and then answered myself, “just Ashgabat?”. My host family agreed with me and I asked, “why is it only available in the capitol and not everywhere?”. My host family said, “well, no one actually uses it so it doesn’t matter, all the people in this commercial are musicians – they all posed for this video”. I asked, “So, why even show it?”. Their reply was, “because the president paid for it and wants people to know he paid for it”.

This morning at work I came in to the clinic at the same time as this woman who was 36 or 37 weeks pregnant, who had a broken hand and a goiter the size of a baseball. Patients don’t visit my clinic all that often, so when they do I get really excited! My counterpart directed the patient to go with her nurse to get her hand checked out and gave her instructions for getting rid of the goiter. I can’t imagine how long she has been without iodine. Just goes to show the wonders of iodized salt. The free salt from the government isn’t iodized (at least not in Lebap – I’ve heard it is elsewhere).

The floor in my clinic, just outside my office is really weak! It was essentially wood laid down on piles of bricks that were randomly interspersed. So there are large areas of the floor that are unsupported. The wood has begun to rot and that leaves large patches of very weak floor. I am sitting in my office making sure my students are doing their work when a larger woman falls through the floor making a huge crash. It is probably a foot and a half between the wood floor and the subfloor. Quite dangerous. At least three children have fallen through in the past, but they are usually agile enough not to hurt themselves, a quick save. It is rather entertaining seeing a child who is only about three feet tall standing in a hole that goes up to their waist. The good news in all this is that my grant includes a remodel which means we will have a new floor! One that won’t allow people to fall through.

Post by Mom

It was great to see Kelsey and spend time in her village. We did alot in a short time. Thanks to other volunteers we had very successful programs. The people are great. Our guide was very informative and very helpful. He made a great video for Kelsey and copies for us and Kelsey host family.

It was fun to put names with faces and places. If anyone would like to visit Turkmenistan let us know. There is alot to see ruins of Alexander the Great. Dinosaur prints, Mountains, Desert.

Kelsey will need help when she returns home. We were getting dinner one of our last nights in capital she wouldn't take the first Taxi they wanted about $3.00 it was to much we did get a taxi and only paid $1.50 maybe, for all 4 of us. Yes it was a short distance and we walked back to the hotel after dinner. We also went to the largest market in the world, it is even on the list of 100 places to see. She told vendors way to much in Turkmen and clicked her tongue. It will be interesting for her to have set prices.

We could understand some conversations without knowing the language. It was great to see that Kelsey's community accepts her and likes the things she is doing. I know she will miss them when she returns home. I hope some day she will be able to have some of them come and visit in the US.

I felt like I had been tranported back to my childhood with all the families having farms or at least gardens. My grandmother would butcher a chicken every Sunday for dinner, I grew up on fresh cows milk and made butter. I do know I still like fresh veggies right from the garden.

Life in T-stan less stress but having grown up on a farm I would not say simple. Gardens and animals take work.

Goal: to write a grant that is asking for money to remodel my office and turn it into a safe place for females to learn about their bodies, health, and to exercise.

Obstacles: Turkmen bureaucracy.

I started the process for this grant two months ago when, after our mid-service conference, my counterpart asked if we could create a room with the above goal. I got very excited and said that as long as she was willing to do a lot of work we absolutely could. Peace Corps has a program called SPA (small program assistance). It is in place to provide monetary support for small community driven projects and our goal was to get this room remodeled and then to provide lessons to the community on general health, healthy lifestyles and exercise classes.

The process has been slow in coming and to demonstrate the process I’m going to describe one small aspect of this process – getting the budget done for the remodel aspect.

Step 1: get a list of supplies needed to do the remodel. I had no idea where to start with this so I asked my counterpart to head it up. I told her we needed to find someone who could do the remodel and that they had to list everything they needed. EVERYTHING right down to the last nail or paintbrush. I asked her if she could let me know when this person arrives so I could be there in case anyone had any questions. Several days later I got a list written in pencil in really bad handwritten Turkmen with words I had no idea what they were. I spent several hours working through what they were (the grant had to be written completely in English) and then we went to the bazaar and attempted to find out the prices of these items. I discovered very quickly that this person had not included anything to redo the floor. The floor just outside of my room has huge holes in it. I have had three children fall through the floor – it is entertaining as they fall nearly two feet down to the subfloor.

Step 2: The grant will not pay for general labor, only specialized labor. Therefore, we had to find someone who would do this work for free. The person we had previously asked gave a very definitive no. (It turns out my counterpart had told him we were getting money from America and therefore he expected a huge amount of money for this remodel, he listed that labor alone was going to be about 3 times the going rate) I asked around to see what other volunteers have done to get over this obstacle and the easiest answer was to see if the etrap (local) hospital could provide someone from their staff to do the work. My counterpart called the etrap director and he said that would be a good idea. Success!

Step 3: Get new list of supplies needed from the new remodel workers. I asked my counterpart when we could expect the new list of supplies (including supplies for the floor). Her response was that the men who would be doing the work were really busy and the director said they couldn’t come look at the room until after we purchased the supplies. I tried not to get upset and went with the flow. We (my counterpart and I) would go to Halach (the location of the etrap hospital) and find new prices for the things the previous worker had listed and ask if anyone could give us guidance on a new floor. I have a decent understanding of Turkmen but the conversation about the floor was totally beyond my ability. We ended up settling on a floor that was totally premade. I had no idea how we would go about installing this floor but hoped that someone could help us figure this out. Our next stop was the hospital.

Step 4: Find construction worker and talk with them. The goal is to get a contract listing all of the supplies needed to complete the project, the number of weeks required to do the work and the total cost of all the supplies. We arrived at the hospital and went to the directors office. We were told he was busy and we would have to come back in 1.5 hours. We then went downstairs to what I believe was the accountant’s office. We asked him about a letter we had to get from the director regarding his support of the project and we asked him about the construction worker. He repeated what the director said earlier that this guy was too busy to come and look at the room but that he would try to get him to take a minute out of his busy schedule to come and talk with us. About 20 minutes later this very humble looking older man arrived, he wore very nice dress clothes (not the kind of clothes you would do construction work in). He listened to the accountant talk about the project and the fact that we needed a contract with all the above details. This man immediately replies that he can’t do any of that if he doesn’t see the room. (Finally! Someone with some common sense!). Following this is a long discussion about the quick response time required, problems with this proposed project, and many other things I barely understood. The end of the conversation was resolved with the goal of this man coming with my counterpart and I back to our village that very day and looking over the room and talking about the intended project. I am beginning to think this is going to work out.

Step 5: Drive from Halach to Guychbirleshik. Sounds fairly simple. I’m not sure I could have been more mistaken. This man had to get permission from no less than three different people to make the trip (even though we had been given permission from the director for the whole thing). Then we waited a half an hour for him to get his car. My counterpart began talking to me about various issues Turkmenistan has and about the tendency for people to require bribes for any small thing to get done and also the tendency for Turkmen to pocket any extra money they could get their hands on. This moved on to a conversation about the fact that the etrap hospital and the director responsible for all of the small clinics in the area doesn’t even provide blood pressure cuffs and stethoscopes to the doctors and nurses here. (Quick thanks to Judy Atkinson who was able to send 4 cuffs/stethoscope sets with my parents when they came! My co-workers were so incredibly thankful!) Nearly an hour and a half after we had decided on the necessity of the construction man coming to my village we finally arrived (the drive normally takes 20 minutes).

Step 6: Get new list of supplies and enter them into the budget. This step is still in the works. We did have a very productive conversation with the construction worker about what our priorities are and what we hoped to complete. He wrote down a bunch of measurements and told us he would get back to us on Monday with a list of supplies needed and hopefully their prices and the number of weeks it will take him and his team to do the work. Now I wait.

“Does your milk have a smell?” the casual question my host mother posed to me this morning over breakfast. I, bewildered, replied that there wasn’t one I could detect. She and my host father then went on to expand upon the numerous numbers of smells that milk could and did have this time of year due to the things that the cows were eating in the desert. The prime offender was a plant called kiek okara. This is the third time I have heard the name of this desert dwelling plant.

The first time was several months ago at our mid service conference. The setting was very different. We were gathered listening to a panel of NGO’s in Turkmenistan. All of these NGO’s were based in Ashgabat. One of the NGO’s was a group called Kiek Okara – a word I had never heard before and wasn’t sure was Turkmen. I didn’t question the name at that time. The NGO focused on domestic violence support and prevention. It sounded like a great and unfortunately necessary group, however, as with the majority of the NGO’s we heard from that day had absolutely no programs or support outside of the capital.

The second time was during a trip that I took to the desert with my parents, sister, and host father. We parked near a well that was used by livestock wandering the desert and started wandering ourselves. My host father picked up a long dry round piece of wood and started to tell us about all of the medicinal properties for this particular plant. He also talked about how the plant stored water in the top and how it was shaped like a bowl and that the livestock would use it to drink from as they were wandering. Also the leaves from keik okara store large amounts of water and are therefore very nutritious.

From the very first time I learned about the desert, probably in 2nd grade, I knew that desert plants and animals had to adapt to their environment. This plant whenever I’ve seen it, living or a stump from the previous year, looks completely out of place. The grown version looks like a mini-palm tree in the desert. The fact that this NGO started to support women who are victims of domestic abuse used this totally out of place looking plant with healing powers, huge reserves of strength in the form of the water it stores in a very dry place, and an uncanny ability to adapt as their inspiration is something I found awe-inspiring and wanted to share with you.

I wanted to share two experiences I had recently on the train. But first, a little about the trains. The cheapest way for me to get to Ashgabat is to take an overnight train. It costs about $5.50 to get a train from a village about 20 minutes to the north all the way to Ashgabat in a cupe (cabin with four beds). There is a cheaper ticket, but I have heard horror stories so as long as I have a choice I’ll pay the little extra to get a nicer place to stay. The trip from Ashgabat to Charjew or vice versa is about 12 hours. If you want to travel all the way to my village (well close to my village) it is about another 4 hours (this takes 2 by taxi).

Each cupe has four beds like I said before. Two are at the level that normal chairs would be and the other two are hung higher up on the ceiling. Under the two bottom stools there is storage room. And There is also storage on the top level at the end and between the upper beds (above the door to the cupe). Whenever traveling on the train you never know what kinds of cupe mates you will be assigned so whenever possible I try to travel with another volunteer so that I at least have someone sane and ‘normal’. The following are descriptions of two different trips that I’ve recently taken. Both trips I was accompanied by Jessie – a fellow volunteer. I believe both trips were from Ashgabat to Charjew.

Trip #1: The Plant Lady

Jessie and I were running late and I was worried we weren’t going to make it on time so we are running to the train. We get on and realize we are the first in our cupe. So, we arrange our things below our side of the bench and it takes up about half the room. Then we each grab books and our iPods and relax for the long trip.

We have barely gotten settled when a woman comes in with her arms filled with huge boxes that she has lashed together with rope to make handles. She sets them on the empty bench and disappears. Jessie and I look at one another, make that slightly suspicious/wondering face and return to our reading. Two minutes later she returns accompanied by a man (we learn later this is her father) and both of them are loaded with more boxes. The woman puts the boxes on the table we are supposed to use for dining and the man sets his down next to the ones already on the opposite bench. They both disappear again. Now half of the other bench is covered with these boxes and all of the dining table is covered. I glance at Jessie and give her an apprehensive look and we both return to our reading. The man and woman return with yet more boxes and again disappear. Now nearly all of the opposite bench is covered, the dining table, and part of one of the upper bunks. I look at Jessie and we start laughing. The woman and man return yet again with more boxes and disappear. Both of the opposite bunks are covered, the dining table and part of the floor. I begin to wonder if they are expecting to place themselves in this cupe as well as all of these boxes. The woman and man return one more time and now it is impossible for us to get out and for more than one of them to come into the cupe. All three beds are covered with boxes, the floor, the dining table and there is a box sitting outside the door. Our cabin mates begin to settle all of their boxes and the woman shows us what is inside them. They are all filled with plants. I have never seen plants for sale in T-stan – only seeds.

The man and woman fill the storage under their seat and the remaining half of ours as well as the storage overhead, two boxes end up under the dining table and another two boxes end up on top of it (we’ve all agreed that we’ve already eaten dinner and therefore don’t have a need for it). There are still a few remaining boxes. One ends up on the bed the woman is sleeping on and the other sits on the floor – severely limiting the space in our cabin. Jessie and I have been eyeing one another the entire time attempting not to break out in hysterical laughter. The woman and man both felt that this was a totally normal thing to travel with so many items that they overflow out of the storage containers and spill onto the floor and beds. The woman also stated – I would never put them into storage (I guess the trains have luggage compartments but I have no idea how one would use them) because she is responsible for the life of these plants and if someone treated them badly she would be out of money.

Overall it was an enjoyable, however bazaar, experience.

Trip #2 The Russians

Jessie and I were once again traveling together and arrived in the cabin to find it empty. We settled in, grabbed our books, but started talking instead of reading. We just finished with our Mid-service conference and felt the need to discuss it.

Several minutes later an older man and younger man entered our cabin. The older man smelled distinctly like vodka and cigarettes while the younger man was decently attractive and had rather large muscles.

We discovered very quickly that they were Russians. There are a fair number of Russians living in Turkmenistan – mostly in the cities. Most Russians living in Turkmenistan don’t know Turkmen because Turkmen became the national language after the country declared independence in 1991 and in the city you don’t NEED to know Turkmen. All restaurants and public services are offered in Russian (often only in Russian). Jessie and I silently breathed a sigh of relief as this meant we weren’t expected to interact with them because of the very difficult language barrier (we spoke almost no Russian).

Once they got settled the older man started trying to talk with us. He soon discovered what we had already determined. We spoke only Turkmen with tiny snippets of Russian while he and his son (we were able to figure this out) spoke only Russian with tiny bits of Turkmen. Normally this would prevent most people from making an effort to communicate (especially when communication is not strictly necessary) but not this man.

Given the language restrictions we learned that this man, his wife and four children lived in Charjew. The man worked in Ashgabat fairly regularly and the son was attending school in Ashgabat. The man is an animal lover and they have two dogs and several cats. We even were privileged to see a video of the mans’ family at a celebration attempting to include the dog in the toasts.

We also learned that his mother (or grandmother, not too sure) is a psychic/fortune teller. And, she passed on those traits to him – the son/grandson. At this point he pulls out two decks of tarot cards and proceeds to read my cards. Remember – we can’t communicate more than the most basic sentiments.

My reading: There will be two important men in my life. The first will be important but not the one I end up with forever. The second one, will have a farm, a good job, and he won’t be American. September is a very important month for me. There are at least 3 or 4 things that will happen to me during September. One of them involved one of those two men from above. I will have children – many of them. I am not allowed to become bored – as that will cause my mind to _____(this word was bad, but I have no idea what exactly he was saying, it was obvious this should not be allowed to happen).

The above was all I managed to understand in the 25 minute (or so) reading that he gave me.

You just never know what you might end up with when traveling by train.

Last year I took the train to get to Ashgabat to go on vacation and the man insisted that I had to call him when my family came to visit (in over a year). I had just met this man.

When I travel in a cabin that is all Americans the train directors (I’m sure they have a name but my English capabilities are declining rapidly) open our cabin every hour or so and bring spectators to stare at us. This happens even when we lock the cabin.

1. Most verdant welayat in Turkmenistan.

2. Greatest access to water as a result of the Amu Dariya.

3. The regional capital is probably the only place in the world where the local dialect combines Turkmen, Uzbek and Russian. Volunteers (and some residents) have dubbed this unique language “charjewski”.

4. We have the best kBac. (a drink made of fermented bread)

5. We also have the best cocktails. (tiny portions of milkshakes that aren’t cold or made with ice cream)

6. Koyten Dag/Dinosaur footprints (beautiful national park with waterfalls, caves, and fossilized dinosaur footprints)!!!!!

7. Most awesome volunteer living quarters with the most educated, most married, and most gay volunteers in the straightest line.

8. Most liberal welayate with the most liberal people like my host father who said when discussing world travel, “people must travel if they can, they need to meet more people because, afterall, we are all just people”. We also supposedly have the only free radio in the country. Supposedly, because we can’t confirm its existence as we are not allowed to talk or meet with its producers.

9. We know how to party – every gathering is guaranteed to discuss public radio (specifically This American Life), AI, and the paper game (don’t ask).

10. We don’t have stinky camels or çal (fermented camel’s milk)!

Today is February 4th. I have been in Turkmenistan for 16 months and counting. I have somewhere between 9 and 10 months left of service. Last week all of the volunteers were in Ashgabat for our ‘mid-service conference’. It is hard to believe that I’m already well over half done. I thought that instead of having a theme to my post today I would take some quotes from things I’ve been reading lately and comment on them and why they have spoken to me.

“And we shouldn’t be here at all, if we’d known more about it before we started. But I suppose it’s often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of sport, as you might say. But that’s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folks seem to have been just landed in them, usually – their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn’t. And if they had, we shouldn’t know, because they’d have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on – and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same – like old Mr. Bilbo. But those aren’t always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of a tale we’ve fallen into?” Lord of the Rings The Two Towers p 321

I haven’t read LOTR in such a long time that I decided it would be great to re-read them. When I read this part I thought how wonderfully true it was. If I had known everything Peace Corps entailed before arriving in Turkmenistan, I’m not 100% sure I would still have done it. However, having said that, I also am so incredibly happy that I made that leap. This experience has been more than I ever would have thought and I will forever be different as a result of being here and experiencing this place.

“Everyone thinks of changing the world, but nobody thinks of changing himself.” Tolstoy

This isn’t actually from a book, because I have not (yet) read Tolstoy. I feel like this is very true of myself right now. I plan on returning back to the states to get further training to do the kind of work I feel I need to. Specifically I will be getting either an MPH/MD or an MPH/MSN degree. I then plan to work internationally on public health.

“It’s good to meet new people [and travel to new places], we are, after all, all just people” Begglych – my Turkmen host father, translated by myself

My new host family has been truly amazing I could not be happier with them and this quote embodies so much of what I love about them. My host father said this during a long conversation Jessica, Jessie (two other PCV’s) and I had with him about three weeks after moving in. I have never heard another Turkmen talk about anything remotely like this. And the fact that my host father believes that all people are equal is a sentiment that nearly brought me to tears. I am so thankful to be here and living with this family.

“All people have to lead good, wholesome lives. It doesn’t matter if you are a Muslim, a Christian, or a Bhuddist. Live a good life and you will be a good person.” Begglych – my Turkmen host father, translated by myself

Again, my host family is very welcoming and I think that one of the great benefits of Peace Corps is this ability to meet people who are so different from you and have so many new and different experiences. I am so happy that my host family has taken the diversity they have come into contact with and incorporated that into their worldview. I think this is one of the first steps towards a happier, more understanding, peaceful and loving world.

“It was very important to Paul to witness things,” Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder p98

Mountains Beyond Mountains is an amazing book about a man named Paul Farmer who started a non-profit called Partners in Health. The work that he does is truly amazing and if I had his personality I would strive to become Paul Farmer. I do not think it would be possible, but the book about him speaks volumes to many of the problems with international public health. I also feel the need to witness things. I find it makes me a more compassionate person.

Society during the Stalin era left open no real opportunities for self-realization or self-expression except within this perverted system of the Communist Party. Lenin’s Tomb by David Remnick p 171

Lenin’s Tomb is a discussion of the fall of the Soviet Union and life in the Soviet Union and former-Soviet countries. I would never have read it before coming to Turkmenistan. A lot of cultural, social, and economic practices in Turkmenistan make a lot more sense after some of the things I’ve read in Lenin’s Tomb. Self-expression (and to some extent self-realization) is something I’ve been really working on with the students in my clubs and my kindergarten students.

“Lives of service depend on lives of support” Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder p 108

I wanted to end with this quote because I can’t express my appreciation for all of you in any adequate way. The letters, packages, prayers and thoughts have made this experience and the past 16 months a very enriching experience. Thank you so very much!

I found this interesting and thought you might as well. Today I did a

gender and development exercise with my oldest kids. They are 6th

through 8th graders. I have two groups one girls and one boys. Each

group had 6 students today.

We first learned about what the difference between sex and gender is.

These two words (in Turkmen) were words the students had never heard

before. It was a very weird feeling teaching Turkmen students,

Turkmen vocabulary. I’m normally the one doing all of the vocabulary

building. Therefore we spent nearly 15 minutes going over the

definitions and trying to figure out exactly what the differences

were. Then they had to assign a bunch of words into two categories:

either “girl/woman” or “boy/man”. Initially they were made to assign

very quickly, but they were given a second chance to make any changes

they thought should be made as a group. Then we decided which of the

words were learned differences and which were biological differences

(sex vs. gender).

Both groups agreed on the following as “boy/man”: driving a vehicle,

serving others (this I found surprising), authority, army, strength,

power, money, athlete, loud, and bravery.

Both groups agreed on the following as “girl/woman”: weak, pregnancy,

art, fetching water, beauty, nurse, cooking, creative, compassionate,

education (I found this surprising) and sweeping.

The following are words that both groups claimed for themselves (girls

thought “girls” and boys thought “boys”): leadership, quiet, doctor,

work, family decisions, intelligence, and raising children.

There were words that each group assigned to the other (boys to

“girls” and girls to “boys”): disloyal, dowry, and love. Decision

making was in this category at first, but the boys then changed it

from girls to boys at the last minute.

Another interesting thing to note is that the girls created a third

group – the “in between” group. They placed the following in this

group after being given a chance to change their minds about any of

their initial placements. The following were the words the girls

placed in the “in between” group (note: these words are repeats and I

listed them above according to the girls initial reaction): driving a

vehicle, serving others, creative, education, money, fetching water,

intelligence, family decisions, work, raising children, leadership,

doctor, disloyal, love, and dowry.

When I asked them to determine if these words were biological

differences or learned differences we had some general disagreements

as to what I was asking, but once they figured out exactly what I

meant both groups assigned all words to learned differences (gender)

except for pregnancy and weak. Those were, according to both groups

biological differences between males and females.

I know that I learned a lot from watching the students interact and

discuss this topic and I hope you found it interesting. I plan to

continue doing gender activities with my older students and I have the

Gender and Development Committee (GAD) in T-stan to thank for the

activity ideas.

Today is day 20 (when written) with host family number two.

This change was the result of over a month of awkwardness and cultural

misunderstandings. The cultural misunderstandings were mostly focused

on the fact that my previous host family was not being direct in

telling me they wanted me to move out. They never directly told me.

My host father called Peace Corps. That resulted in a mediated

conversation via Ashgabat in which I was reassured that they still

wanted me to live there. My host father told Jessie, a PC friend. I

then called Peace Corps and was again reassured that I was still

wanted and it was simply a misunderstanding. When I tried to give my

monthly rent to my host father he asked if I shouldn’t give it to one

of my friends and move in with them. This time I didn’t call Peace

Corps but instead started looking for a new home. I figured I had

time but would move out soon.

Peace Corps did a site visit on Wednesday November 18th where a PC

staff member talked with my host father then came and informed me that

my host family wanted me to move out now. My counterpart found me a

new house that night. I visited Thursday afternoon and decided things

looked good. Peace Corps came to visit on Monday and Monday afternoon

I moved from the old host family into the new.

My new host family is amazing! At home I have a host father named

Begglych, he is a gym teacher at the school. A host mother named

Bibinyaz. A host sister named Aksoltan. A host brother named

Mammetmyrat. I also have three other siblings who are not living at

home right now. One is a brother, in the army, I think, in Mary.

Another is a brother, married, living with his wife and going to

medical school in Ashgabat. And the other is a sister, unmarried,

living in Ukraine, studying English. I have met the brother and

sister-in-law from Ashgabat but have not, yet, met the other two

siblings.

There are a lot of differences between my two host families and while

I will absolutely miss several members from my previous host family I

do firmly believe that this new change is a very positive one. I

believe it will not only revitalize myself and my service but it will

be a blessing. I have already met new community members, I feel much

more a member of this family than the previous one and, because I

spent more time with them I also have an excellent opportunity to

continue my Turkmen education.

News from T-stan. The presidents of China, Uzbekistan, and Kazakstan

will all be in the same city as myself tomorrow! They are coming to

officially open a gas line from Turkmenistan all the way to china.

This is huge news because it made the BBC radio news I get. I'd love

to hear if this made the news back home!

Peace!

Kelsey

It is Saturday and I just got home from work. I drop my things off in my room and help put lunch on the table. Dilber (sister-in-law) asks me if I want to pick cotton after lunch. I immediately reply, “yes!”.

I have been asking various family members for the past few weeks since the cotton harvest has started to take me with them out to the cotton fields. I even had one date all set up but because of some language misunderstandings it never happened.

Several hours later Dilber knocks on my window and says they’re leaving. I have a koýnek (long dress) on with a white long sleeve shirt over the top and I’m wearing a scarf over my hair. I grab my very large bottle of water and run out the door. Outside my family’s truck is sitting. In the bed of the truck I see nearly 15 women and young girls. My host father is driving. We head east out of town. We pass field after field of cotton, many of which have women and children already picking. We weave through dirt back roads for about 20 minutes and then my host father stops. I can’t see any cotton fields which is rather odd since that is what we have come to do.

Dilber jumps out of the truck and wanders to the side of the road and peers into a very large ditch. The dirt on the opposite side of the ditch is built up higher than our truck. She yells, “no water!” and all of the other women proceed to jump out of the truck and trudge through the ditch that is filled with weeds and grasses that are over my head. After we’ve descended and ascended this huge ditch I finally see the cotton field stretching out in front of me. I smile to myself and then greet various family members, friends and acquaintances who know me. I even get a hug from a host sister.

After the initial greetings I stand around awkwardly while everyone is prepping to pick. They are tying long aprons to their fronts, then tying one, two, or more bags to their front, back, and sides. Many put gloves on (these appear to be pairs of socks where the toes have been cut off and a slit has been made for the thumb). I am beginning to think I am not nearly prepared enough.

Another sister hollers at me and I follow her. She starts to walk into the field and I mention the fact that I don’t have a bag or apron. She passes me onto another sister who provides me with the essentials. My apron is a striped white and grey that covers from the outside of one thigh to the outside of another and goes all the way down to my ankles. I am only given one cotton picking bag but it is rather large. I have no idea how much cotton will fill this bag or how much work it will require to fill this bag so I don’t ask for another.

With around 40 women on my left and another 10 young girls to my right I walk bravely into the field and the row that has been assigned to me. The cotton plants start at around waist height and continue growing in height as I reach further and further into the field. Very quickly the plants are at my eye level and I have to jump in order to see over them.

The cotton we are picking today is on the bottom of the plant. This is the second time this field has been picked and I later learn that it will be combed through at least four times before the harvest is considered done. I take a step forward, bend at the waist and reach down, form a claw with my hand and pluck at the cotton. Every move I make in the field releases hundreds of small bugs from the plants and clouds of dust that bellow up around me and make me feel dehydrated and cause me to sneeze. (I did have the forethought to take allergy medication before I left, but still am feeling the effects)

Each plant has about 4 – 8 cotton bunches ready to be picked. Some come off very easily and are then stuffed into my growing sack tied to my waist. Others I have to pry each individual pod of cotton away. Some cotton pods have molded and are rotten. Nearly every pod is covered by a spider web and I pray that I don’t run into any of the poisonous spiders that live in Turkmenistan.

Very quickly my back and upper thighs begin to ache with all the tension and it gets worse as my bag gets bigger. I resort to squatting each time I venture to new plants and find new body parts that begin to ache.

I glance back toward where the large truck that will take the cotton away is parked. It keeps getting smaller and smaller.

I’m keeping pace with all of the children to my right but the women have forged ahead and I wonder if it is simply because I’m so slow or if I should only be taking the cotton that comes off easily. If I had to wager a bet I would probably go for the first option.

After just over an hour my bag is filled. Now I have no idea what to do. If I go back I’ll probably not be able to figure out exactly which row is mine and it looks like the women are expected to finish an entire row. I’m only about 1/3 of the way through my row. As I weigh my options one of my host nieces appears behind me with an empty bag and offers to take away my full one. I gladly give up my burden, don the second bag and get back to work.

The second bag fills slower than the first bag.

Some of the women who started around the same time I am are headed back toward the truck, they pass and yell hi.

The women from the kindergarten yell at me across the field, it takes me a while to realize they are talking to me. Their laughter and joy waves over me and I smile. This is truly place for women to gather, gossip, and grab cotton.

My second bag is slowly filling up, the truck is even further away, I can’t tell if I’m closer to the far end of the field or the truck. The cotton is so high here it is hard to see anything other than what is right in front of me. My previously white sleeves are black and my hands are covered in mud and stains. I can’t see the bottom of my dress as the bag in front of me is getting so large.

Several hours after I initially set out my second bag is full, my body is aching and I need water. I decide to head back with my full bag for a break.

When I return to the truck my bag is immediately weighed, my niece adds the weight to what she weighed my previous bag at and it turns out I have picked 9.5 kilos of cotton! I’m surprised by the weight, it seems like a lot to me.

I sit down on top of a random bag for my break. The people by the truck are all family members – a host sister, niece, and nephew. I begin a conversation with Gülçer (the sister) about the field and cotton business.

This field and one other cotton field are both owned by my family. This field and the other will both be picked through 4 times before considered done. A very strong young woman can pick on average between 120 – 150 kilos of cotton a day. (My 9.5 kilos is seeming like nothing now) The government pays 500 manat (old manat) for every kilo picked. As I do the math in my head I realize I would make about $.30 for my several hours of cotton picking. Even one of those strong young women would only make about $3 – 4 per day. The families who own the fields take people out to their fields, record how much each person picks, drop the cotton off at a local processing plant, and when the season is done the government pays each family accordingly, the families then pass the money onto the pickers.

Our family has 1 field with grain, another with watermelon and two fields of cotton (my host family is very wealthy in Turkmen standards, especially for a village).

I pass nearly as much time talking with my family members as I did picking. No one seems to care if I go back out to the fields or not. After spending 4 hours in the field all of the women are called in to the truck and madness ensues. Each woman/girl is gathering around the scale. My sister-in-law is weighing each persons’ cotton, my sister is recording them all in a small book, the women/children then take their bags of cotton and toss them up onto the truck which is by now overflowing with cotton. My niece and nephew are trying to grab the bags, empty them onto the huge pile of cotton in the truck and squash the cotton down in order to fit it all in without blowing away on the trip to the processing plant. The next hour is spent in this way. I help out where I can.

Finally, we’ve picked most of the cotton off the ground that fell and the cotton on the truck is sufficiently pressed down I make the trek back across that huge ditch to find my family’s truck with nearly 30 people all packed into the bed. I don’t know how they fit in any more, but somehow another 4 women find places in the back. I am sitting safely in the front of the truck. We make the trip back into town as the sun is glowing bright red and rapidly disappearing beyond the horizon and I am smiling.

My initial thoughts are, “it is about time!” and “thank God!”.

After struggling for what seems like forever to do anything that seems worthwhile and feeling like I’m constantly pushing my own ideas on my community I am finally feeling success. (Note, this week I celebrated my 11 month anniversary in Turkmenistan). The last month I have been experiencing a depressed mood and constant frustration so this turnaround couldn’t come at a better time!

My work before this week consisted of a weekly visit to the Kindergarten (where I am rapidly running out of ideas), and several clubs for school aged kids where we cover everything from English language to health to geography. That is ALL I have been doing since I’ve gotten here. I had a weekly meeting with the doctors and nurses that lasted about a month where we learned a little English and I talked a little bit about what I thought my job was, and how we could work together and then I asked them what they wanted from me and got no answer.

This week has been HUGE in the number of changes that have seemingly come out of nothing. I have been praying for a long time that someone would come to me with an idea rather than me constantly forcing my ideas on people. That is not why I joined Peace Corps.

Saturday I am at my clinic drinking çaý with my co-workers when one of them compliments me on the way I look and says that I have lost a lot of weight and look really good (I have lost a lot of weight – nearly 40 pounds and am very proud of this fact). I thank her and she asks how I managed to lose that much weight. I am inwardly rejoicing at this question because nearly all of the Turkmen population over the age of 30 or 35 is overweight. I tell her (regardless of how much this is true or not) that I exercise every day, I eat very little oil, and fat and that I don’t eat really big meals. (I personally think a lot of my weight loss is moving away from a ‘western’ diet back to a much more natural, closer to the earth diet rather than the amount I am exercising and the amount of oil I eat or don’t eat) The doctors and nurses then lapse into a debate about when I exercise, but in Turkmen style don’t actually ask me about it and rather debate it until they are bored.

At the end of the day I head off with several of my co-workers, including my counterpart, hospital director and one of my host sisters, for what turns out to be a 5 hour guesting (visiting another person to eat). During the time that my mind wanders from the immediate conversation I begin thinking about my earlier conversation. I realize that this may not have been a direct request for me to do something but that this could be a perfect opportunity to implement an exercise club at my clinic! I sat on it for the weekend and planned.

Tuesday morning I have a short conversation with my counterpart and mention that the doctors and nurses and I had this conversation and suggest that we have a yoga club (I begin with yoga because I feel it is a very relaxing kind of exercise and can be modified to be as simple or as hard as you may need). I give her several possibilities of times that would work for me and ask her to see if anyone would be interested.

10 minutes later…she returns and says, “Kelsey, we’ll do it at 8:30 on Friday morning”. Because most of you don’t know much about Turkmen culture this may not seem as monumental as I feel it is. This is HUGE! I am so excited and floating on air.

If this were the end of my amazing week I would be totally psyched, but it isn’t.

School started back up on Tuesday this week and to celebrate I made BINGO cards that are really beautiful for my school aged clubs. They totally love the prizes I’ve been giving out (many of these are thanks to people who have sent packages!). And for the kindergarten I wrote and illustrated an ABC book. They loved it! The teachers went crazy about the things I used to make the book (colored paper, puffy paint, string, and foam letters and shapes). They all wanted to examine it very closely and wanted me to give them all the supplies I used to make it. When I leave I’ll give them the book and whatever supplies I have left.

Wednesday mornings I go to the Kindergarten and as I said the book was a hit, then I go to my Turkmen tutor’s house for lunch, and then fun. Today we practiced the yoga session I’m planning on giving to the doctors on Friday to see how I was at explaining things, then we baked a chocolate crazy cake to celebrate 11 months in the country and finally we watched the final 2 episodes of Top Chef Season 5. My Turkmen tutor, Arzuw, doesn’t speak any English (other than the bits and pieces she has picked up from being around me and watching 2 seasons of Top Chef like peanut butter), so everything we do is 100% in English. I’m finally getting to the point where I feel totally comfortable having real conversations with her and she LOVES Top Chef!

As I leave her house after 3 or 4 hours of chatting, yoga, Top Chef, and cake I am walking back to the clinic in a very joyful mood. I had made an appointment with my counterpart to discuss a document I had given her the previous week. It is a powerpoint presentation about Yokary Gan Basyshy (High Blood Pressure). Another volunteer gave the same presentation at her clinic and my hope was that I could convince my counterpart to present it to the other doctors and nurses at my clinic as a refresher. The presentation includes lots of preventative measures. When I arrive at the clinic there are patients! I could probably count the number of patients that I have seen at our clinic on my fingers and toes (and I’ve been here for 11 months). I very quickly realize that these are all pregnant women and that somehow I have missed that they always show up at the clinic for an hour or two on Wednesday afternoons. I always thought that our gynecologist was only in 1 day a week when she is actually in 2 days and sees patients the day I’m not there. She directly asked me if I could give a presentation to the pregnant women. Again – someone asking me to do something! Initiative from my community! So, my new goal is to have a presentation ready for next week. I promised all of the women there that I would be back the next week and would give them a lesson.

In summary I have renewed spirit in my clubs and kindergarten, a new exercise club starting with my co-workers and a new opportunity to present to pregnant women at my clinic on a weekly basis!

I feel as though I am flying! I would like to thank all of you who have kept me in your thoughts and prayers and for those of you sending me peace.

All I can hope for now is that these new endeavors will continue and thrive and that my contribution to my community will be received and people will take the things I say to heart and that there will be change. I’ve always maintained that my life will have been worth living if even one person’s life was made better. I just hope that I succeed.

Thank you again for your faith in me, your constant encouragement, your letters and emails, and all of your lesson plan ideas. Please, keep them coming!

In Peace

P.S. I will be sure to keep everyone updated as to the result of my new projects.

The first update is now: This morning was my first yoga class and while I only had a fraction of the nurses and doctors attend it was fairly successful. There were 3 women who did the entire practice with me, and another 2 who did parts of it but opted not to do other parts. They all acted a bit sad when it was done and asked me if I was going to do it again next week. Thus far everything looks very positive and I am still very hopeful that this will work out well! Please keep me and my new endeavors in your thoughts and prayers!

Well, I didn’t manage to get the hottest temperatures of the summer because I had assumed that the hottest month during summer is August (like it is in Wisconsin). That was not true. Therefore I do not have very many temperatures for you. Note these are temperatures that were taken not in the shade and also my thermometer’s maximum temperature is 52 C (125.6 F). I’ll do my best next summer to get better and more detailed temperatures.

Date C °F time of day

Friday August 7, 2009 52 125.6 1:45 PM

26 78.8 9:00 PM

Saturday August 8, 2009 30 86 8:15 AM

39 102.2 11:45 AM

52 125.6 3:10 PM

26 78.8 9:10 PM

1. See the dinosaur footprints (koýten dag).

2. While visiting ancient ruins you are guaranteed to be the only people there (Merv, Nisa, Moorgenç, Koynergenç).

3. See a huge hole in the desert perpetually burning.

4. A chance to see the result of many years of soviet control.

5. A chance to experience a society that has been closed to outside influence for a number of years.

6. The Turkmen culture has proclaimed itself to be “guest-loving”.

7. If you visit you could go weeks without paying for any food (because people will constantly force-feed you).

8. One of the few places in the world where people (women mostly) wear traditional dress daily.

9. Natural gas, water, electricity, 30L/month petrol, salt (uniodized), 20 Kilos of flour, and local telephone service are all free.

10. Opportunity to visit the only “peaceful, independent and permanently neutral government” in the world.

1. Spinach raises your blood pressure (sometimes causes high blood pressure).

2. Drinking water makes you fat.

3. Consuming cold liquids and solids will cause a cold or cough (so will cold wind from your window, or a fan blowing on you while you sleep).

4. The wind makes you feel bad (emotionally) and as a consequence raises your blood pressure.

5. Apples contain a lot of iron and will cure anemia.

6. A meal that doesn’t contain a large amount of animal fat is unhealthy.

7. Anything made with flour will make you fat and raise your blood pressure (yet, nearly every meal is made with flour, bread is the #1 staple of the Turkmen diet)

8. Praying Mantes will eat your warts to make them disappear.

9. Putting bread under your pillow wards off bad dreams.

10. Injections/shots work better than tablets.

I’ve begun teaching several weekly clubs for the students in my village. This week was my fourth week of lessons. The club’s theme is “fun”, each week we learn a little English then we do some sort of activity. Thus far we have covered a little geography, played some games, learned about abstract art then created our own, and this week we talked about hygiene.

Now I’m sure some of you are thinking, wow, that sounds fun…

This week’s lesson began with the regular English lesson where we covered the alphabet, some phonics, reviewed hello, my name is___, how are you?, where are you from?, and then learned I am a student.

I then read two short stories that I wrote in Turkmen and illustrated (I am not an artist). The first is about a girl named Gülşat who goes to the outhouse but doesn’t wash her hands directly after. She then is very considerate and helps her mother to make dinner, eats dinner with her family, goes to bed and wakes up the next morning. When she wakes up her entire family is ill.

The group and I discuss what went wrong in the story and what things that Gülşat did well, then we talk about germs and where they are located and how they make us sick and how to prevent getting sick.

The second story is about a brother and sister (Begenç and Günça) who live in my village. Each step of the way Günça obeys and does what she is supposed to while Begenç is not a good boy. All of the general hygiene issues are covered in the story as well as things like listening to your parents, and helping around the house. The story ends with Günça enjoying playing in the yard while Begenç must sit because he has cut his foot, he also has swarms of flies, fleas, and lice swarming him and looks generally miserable.

Again we disucss what each person did well and not so well, what we should do differently and how we can apply this to our lives.

Then I introduce each of the following terms in English: Wash your hands! Brush your teeth! Wash your clothes! Take a shower! And wear your shoes outside!

Then for each of the phrases we add an action. Washing your hands you rub your hands together. Brushing your teeth you smile really big and pretend to brush your teeth. Washing your clothes we mock hand washing (which is how the majority of people here wash clothes myself included, and we don’t have wash boards). Take a shower we mock dumping a bucket of water over ourselves and then scrub our arms (again very typical of a normal shower here myself not included – my family has a shower head with running water). Wear your shoes outside we walk with really high steps.

The end purpose is playing musical chairs. There are a few differences between our version of musical chairs and what you may be used to. First: there are not nearly enough chairs, so we use pieces of paper on the floor. Second: the music is not music, rather a student or myself yelling out the phrases in English that they have just learned while the rest of the students walk in a circle doing the actions we just learned. Finally: my students, just like many other students around the world, like to find ways to make themselves win. They resorted to dragging the pieces of paper around the floor with them, or even two pieces with them. Several students would not move off their piece of paper until the one in front of them was deserted, then they all caught on and no one moved.

Overall it was a very fun and entertaining lesson.

This coming week I’m planning on teaching about the U.S. I realize I’m a health teacher here, but there are 3 Peace Corps Goals that all volunteers are always striving to achieve.

“The mission of the Peace Corps is to promote world peace and friendship by:

Helping people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women

Helping promote better understanding of Americans on the part of people served

Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans”

Therefore, teaching my students about the diversity of life in the United States is implicit in my role as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Turkmenistan. I’m very excited to start sharing some of this information with them.

On a final note, if anyone has any great lesson plans or activities for students that cover any area but specifically health related feel free to pass them on to me! I currently have many ideas for these groups of students, but know that my bank of ideas will run out at some point.

1. Apricots (erik)

2. Watermelon (garpyz)

3. Apples (alma)

4. Grapes (üzim)

5. Peaches (şetaly)

6. Tomatoes (pomidor) – I know, perhaps a veggie, perhaps a fruit but regardless I eat a ton of them!

7. Cantaloupe type melon (gawun)

8. Strawberries (tudana) – these are only available for a few weeks in the city, but are really good!

9. Cherries (ülje)

10. Quince (not sure about the Turkmen, and in fact I had never heard of this fruit until I got here)

Getting around is, generally, a universal concern. As such, I figured I would talk a little about how I get around and compare it to my host family and other Turkmen that I know.

I travel to visit other PCV friends, to go to Ashgabat for PC business, to go to Halach for my monthly living allowance, to go to Charjew for internet and mail, and to travel to other countries for vacation.

The first step for all of these trips is to catch a taxi. I am lucky to live less than 15 minute walk from the one road that travels between Charjew (and north of the city) and the Afghan border. Every vehicle traveling along the road serves as a taxi. Essentially I am hitchhiking, I throw my arm out to my side and wait for someone to pull over. I inquire if they are going where I am going and then (according to PC policy) I am supposed to ask how much it will be. For most trips that I usually take I know how much they will charge and therefore rarely ask.

There are four ways to get from Lebap to Ashgabat: train, plane, taxi, or marshrutka. The train costs 70,000 ($4.92) and takes 14 hours to get from Charjew to Ashgabat. I can take the train from a village near my village and it costs an extra $.50 or so but takes an additional 5 hours. The plane leaves from Charjew and costs 250,000 ($17.59) and takes 50 minutes. The taxi and marshrutka I hear are extremely painful ways to travel and while they are between the cost of train and plane it seems like something I won’t do without large amounts of encouragement. When I moved to my site I took a marshrutka with 3 other volunteers and all of our belongings and it was extremely cold. We all pulled out sleeping bags in order to stay warm. I was lucky enough to be able to join a Peace Corps driver coming out to Charjew on my way back from vacation but the PC vehicles have air conditioning and are very comfortable, clean, and the driver is nice and not constantly bugging you.

My host family has a vehicle which they use when my host father goes places, however if my sister-in-law needs to go to the bazaar but my host father isn’t going she takes a taxi just like I would. When traveling within my village the most common modes of transportation are walking or biking, however after dark cars are most often used.

I found myself lying awake last night wondering how difficult it would be to compute my hourly wage. There are many things that have to go into the accounting process. Firstly there are all of the specific allotments that we receive. There is the living allowance (the money we actually get every month), travel allowance (money that is given to us on a quarterly basis specifically for travel out of country), readjustment allowance (money that is given to us once we complete our service) and settling in allowance (a one time payment used to furnish your living space). Then you have to take into account that most of the money we don’t get until we are finished with service (in my accounting I discounted this and added it in as if I were getting it spread throughout my service). You also have to account for mandatory expenses, namely, my monthly payment to my host family. Finally, being a PCV is a 24/7 job.

After changing all of the manat payments into dollars and calculating the hourly amount of each of those allowances listed above I have determined that I am making a grand total of $0.52 every hour of my service in Peace Corps. If you decide to join Peace Corps for the money you will be disappointed (until you get 1/3 of your readjustment allowance upon leaving the country). However, I assume most people do not join Peace Corps to make their fortune.

I am just beginning to learn about the wealth I am reaping from this experience. I have been in Turkmenistan for the past 9 months (yes it has been that long) and every day I seem to gain something new. I have had ample opportunity to think about my life and where I am headed in the future, I have anthems of children’s voices following me everywhere I go, I have reflected upon what opportunity truly means and realized just how privileged I am having been born in the US, I have several good friends who will live here for the rest of their lives, and I can truly appreciate how frustrating grass roots change can be. These are just some of the things that I will cherish for the rest of my life, much longer than the money I’m making will last.

I truly believe that wealth lies not in money but in experience, knowledge and love. I will gladly live on $0.52 an hour when it comes with such an amazing benefit package.

Many of you may have heard from me at one point or another some of the issues surrounding the change in currency from old manat to new manat here in Turkmenistan. There have been countless times when the things that come out of my mouth just don’t make any sense, or I’ve gotten exceedingly confused on a taxi ride, or when telling people about my Peace Corps income. I’ve decided to write up a few stories and share them with you.

First, you will need some background information to attempt to make sense of the following puzzles. The old manat bills were nearly all 10,000 bills. There were also 500, 1,000 (bills and coins) and 5,000 bills. With the exchange rate 14,215 manat to the dollar you can imagine many purchases were made with large bundles of bills. I was even considered a millionaire once or twice during those first few months in country.

As of January 1 (this year) both sets of currency are legal tender and will be until January 1 of next year when only the new currency will be considered legal tender. Many Turkmen were very worried about this transition because a similar change in currency happened several years ago that left many Turkmen hurting. I don’t know the exact specifics but I understand it had to do with the exchange rate with the dollar. Many people here keep their savings in their homes in US dollars rather than in manats or in banks.

The new manat has been changed so that 5,000 old manat = 1 new manat. They have also introduced a cent type unit called the teňňe (pronounced teng-ay) with 1 teňňe being 50 old manat (yes 50, not 500, or 5,000). The coins come in 1, 5, 10, 20, and 50 (the 1 and 5 are utterly useless) and the new bills come in 1, 5, 10, 20, 50, 100, and supposedly 500 (I’ve never seen these). While having a large range of bills is helpful getting too many 50’s and 100’s at the bank can be not helpful when I’m buying a kilo of tomatoes at 15,000 (old manat) a kilo. The new exchange rate is that 2.843 new manat = 1 dollar. So, please enjoy some of the following stories all about the strange changeover of bills.

A fellow volunteer (Jessie) and I were debating if we both ended up paying the same price for a taxi ride and I said, “I gave him a 5, you gave me 10 and he gave me 2 so you would owe me another 2.5 if we’re both even”. Let’s review that again, “I gave him a 5 (new manat = 25,000 old manat), you gave me 10 (10,000 old manat), and he gave me 2 (new manat = 10,000 old) so you would owe me another 2.5 (new manat = 12,500 old) if we’re both even”.

While arranging with a taxi driver the price of a potential ride across town (in Ashgabat) he said “10”. This is an EXTREMELY confusing answer! It could mean any one of the following possibilities – none of which would be totally outrageous for a taxi driver to ask a group of foreigners. 1) 10,000 total for everyone involved – a very cheap taxi ride one that I would take. 2) 10,000 per person – this is an expensive taxi ride but depending on the time of day and how desperate or in a hurry might consider. 3) 10 new manat which would be 50,000 old manat and again very expensive. I wouldn’t take this ride no matter what, but that won’t stop a greedy taxi driver from asking for that much.

The first montly living stipend we got in 2009 was in new manat. We picked it up at the bank and it was about 530 new manat (a huge difference from our 2.5 million stipend before). Because it was so new the bank teller gave each of us (myself and two other volunteers near me all go to the same bank) 5 – 100 bills, 1 – 20, 1 – 10 and a few 1’s. I took a look at it and asked if I could have different bills, but they didn’t have any. In order to be able to buy anything – anywhere I had to ask my family if they could break one of my 100’s. (Again many Turkmen have large amounts of money hidden under their carpets in their homes.)

I have been warned repetitively about the horror of the summer heat. Some of the common expressions I’ve heard regarding the heat include: “insufferable”, “more than halfway to boiling, literally”, “there are flies landing on my butthole”, “debilitating” as well as a few phrases I won’t print here.

This leaves me wondering – is it really going to be that hot? My Encyclopedia Britanica on my computer generously given by a fellow volunteer (thanks Elliot!) says that in the summer the temperature rarely falls below 35 C (95F) and in the southeast Kara Kum (pretty much exactly where I am located) can be 50 C (122 F) IN THE SHADE! The average yearly temperature is 14 – 16 C (57 – 61 F).

I figure many of you may also be wondering what the temperature really is here in the desert. Therefore I have decided to start a small series of blog posts. I plan to spend about two weeks each season taking several daily readings on the thermometer that is attached to the outside of our house and report my findings here to you. The last two weeks were a great time to start because I didn’t have all that much to do considering I am leaving on vacation as I am posting this entry.

Please note: I am not a meteorologist, not do I aspire to be one, and our thermometer is attached to the brick exterior of our house and is in perpetual shade. So, this is what it was really like the past two weeks as far as the weather is concerned. Enjoy!

Date Temp F Time

Tuesday May 5, 2009

66.2 8:30 AM

82.4 2:00 PM

83.3 5:00 PM

Wednesdsay May 6, 2009

85.2 9:30 AM

86 2:00 PM

Thursday May 7, 2009

71.6 8:00 AM

77 12:00 PM

82.4 2:00 PM

Friday May 8, 2009

69.8 7:45 AM

84.2 3:00 PM

Saturday May 9, 2009

66.2 8:00 AM

77 12:00 PM

Sunday May 10, 2009

66.2 8:00 AM

77 12:00 PM

71.6 9:30 PM

Monday May 11, 2009

71.6 9:00 AM

77 5:00 PM

Tuesday May 12, 2009

71.6 8:00 AM

82.4 4:15 PM

Wednesday May 13, 2009

73.4 8:00 AM

89.6 3:00 PM

78.8 7:45 PM

Thursday May 14, 2009

71.6 8:30 AM

87.8 5:00 PM

Friday May 15, 2009

69.8 7:45 AM

71.6 9:15 AM

77 11:45 AM

87.8 3:00 PM

Saturday May 16, 2009

69.8 7:30 AM

95 3:00 PM

When I think of flies the first thought that comes to mind are the HUGE horseflies in northern MN that always used to find the one bit of skin outside the water during the summer and bite down hard. I do associate flies with the summer, but they never really bothered me (except horseflies of course). As the summer season starts I find myself exceedingly annoyed by flies.

A few weeks ago while a fellow volunteer was visiting and we were sitting in my room watching movies, or chatting I got so annoyed that I pulled out my mosquito net (one that many volunteers return unopened at their close of service) and rigged up a system so I could sleep under it (and continue watching movies with Jessie and not be so annoyed).

As I sit on our porch during lunch I find myself constantly moving my arms, toes and head to keep the flies from landing on me and hovering over my portion of food to protect it from the nastiness that define flies.

I am currently working on teaching a series of lessons to the kindergarteners about flies. We spent a week learning about the animals, then made small paper models of them, then put their small feet into some green paint (representing feces) and then each child took their fly and flew it to our lunch time meal (represented by a very nice drawing of food that I had created the day before), and finally we will be talking about the disease spreading capabilities of flies and expanding that to the constant issue of diarrhea during the Turkmen spring and summer.

Those of you who know me know that I do not advocate killing anything (no, I don’t even kill mosquitoes during the WI/MN summers) and I have felt no moral issues with the small trays of fly poison that my family has lying around our house and kitchen. My only concern is that I will end up ingesting some or, worse, Kervan will.

My biggest concern right now is that they will only continue to get worse. This is what I’ve been told and what I am dreading will happen.

Wish me the best in my battle with the flying insects.

While I did not get a peer support position (a thing I am realizing more and more was probably a good thing – isn’t it amazing how short sited we can become and how relying on God’s plan can save us much disappointment and negativity), I am currently applying for the Health Committee.

I also figured I should write up a short blurb on what the health committee is and what they do. There are two Peace Corps Programs in Turkmenistan – Community Health and TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language). Each of these programs has a committee of volunteers that meet with the staff on a quarterly basis. The purpose of the health committee is to, “act as a conduit for sharing resourcs and project ideas among health volunteers from different regions, preserve and promote the use of quality health resources developed through the history of Turkmenistan’s health program, collaborate and provide input to health program staff for PST (pre-service training) and other projects as needed and mutually agreed upon, and act as an intermediary for communicating between volunteers and Peace Corps staff on issues related to the health program”.

They work on project plan review, training design and priority setting, and reviewing, archiving and organizing PCV materials.

The more I thought about what my reasons for joining Peace Corps were and how I was fulfilling those goals (or in many cases not) I realize that the Health Committee is more in line with following through on my original goals in Peace Corps, briefly: to create and encourage sustainable changes in personal and community health in Turkmenistan.

The applications for health committee are due on July 15th, and I would guess they’ll decide on the new members 2 – 4 weeks after that date. It sounds like it will be very competitive, however I feel very strongly about my application.

As most of you know I did not get a Peer Support position, but I felt that because so many of you asked about it I should write up a little summary of what it is.

Actually, as I type this up all of the Peer Supporter’s are meeting in Ashgabat for their annual meeting that will be beginning in about 4 hours.

Peer Support is a system of current Peace Corps Volunteers that are spread evenly throughout the country. They have several main jobs responsibilities: they are confidential sounding posts, someone to go to if there are issues and problems, they are responsible for keeping in contact with volunteers around them to ensure everyone is emotionally healthy and to address any situations they encounter where volunteers are not emotionally healthy, they also serve as a greeting committee for incoming volunteers and are a great source of information for volunteers both before and after they join our Peace Corps community here in Turkmenistan.

Today (April 21, 2009) I went to the desert.

I had planned to go this weekend with two other volunteers but it didn’t end up working out (we did go for a walk but didn’t make a picnic out of it). So I was very excited when at 9:30 (30 minutes after I arrived at work) my counterpart comes into my office and says, “we’re going to the desert! Are you coming?”. I immediately replied, “Yes!”.

It took 30 minutes to figure out the transportation plan. Then a total of 8 minutes in a car to drive to one of the cleaning ladies houses (which is located on the very edge of town). From her house myself, my counterpart, and the two cleaning ladies at my clinic walked toward the road where we were going to put up some sort of signal so the rest of the women (who either walked or got a ride) would see it and know to start walking into the desert. The walk from the house of origin was about 20 minutes.

On the way I watched these HUGE ants scurry underfoot. I saw a small herd of cattle being shepherded by two young boys. I looked for the sometimes illusive desert poppies. I found several bunches of them. And I enjoyed simply being outdoors in the warm weather relaxing on a walk.

When we arrived and finally decided on a final spot to do the cooking and eating I snapped a few pictures of a turtle one of the women found then walked back toward the house to get water. I took one trip there and back with water and a second trip half way to help one of the other women. When everyone successfully met up we put together the cooking area (a large black pot balanced on a metal stand that was balanced on three large rocks), gathered fire wood and began cooking the soup. Then we relaxed, drank çaý, and I began to bake in the sun (very glad I managed to remember to bring my sunscreen in the rush).

When the meat was cooked in the soup we began our feast: soup (pretty good soup), tomatoes, cucumbers, nuts, cookies, chocolate, çaý and, of course, vodka. We managed to finish two bottles over the next 20 minutes. We subsequently sank into a chaotic bliss where we stayed for the next hour and half.

The return trip I opted to walk (it was just under an hour from our picnic site to my house). When I finally returned to work it was 3:45pm. This means that I had an hour and 45 minutes left of work. Which makes a day that would normally be 6 hours a mere 2 hours and 15 minutes, and all of the doctors and nurses left long before that hour and 45 minutes were done. I ended up locking up the clinic by myself after I had done a significant amount of work. I still had to spend about 2 hours this evening finishing up the work I needed to do today.

Overall, it was a really great day! Even if I did bring my work home with me (although as a PCV I am constantly ‘at work’ so I guess that means I ALWAYS bring my work home…).

Follow up: several days later.

I ended up going into the desert another two times this week, although, each time was to work. My host family has a large plot of land out in the desert a little way where they grow grain and watermelons. We had a rather nasty hail at the beginning of the week which apparently ruined the watermelon they had already planted so we had to plant again. The first day I spent following a hole – digger and dropping 6 – 7 seeds placed in a circle into the hole. With all of the bending over my thighs and lower back were in a lot of pain.

The second day I did more of what we did on the first day, but then we spent 40 minutes pulling weeds. These are huge mini-trees that we were pulling, with our hands. They are resting in sand, so most are not terribly difficult to pull out, but I did end up cutting my hands and getting many barbs stuck in my palms and fingers. Again, my thighs and lower back were in pain. But it was a very enjoyable time, I got to talk with some of my family members, and got some good exercise and sun out of the deal.

Also, my father said a few days ago that we would go into the desert, I believe his exact words were, “We’ll show you a prettier part of the desert”. So, I await that experience.

In an effort to explain how Turkmen birthdays work and are similar/different to an American birthday I have decided to tell you about my 23rd birthday which I hope will be a blend between traditional Turkmen and American. I’ll write throughout the day and let you know how it is going.

It is 8:36 in the morning, I woke up to a phone call from my family in the states wishing me a Happy Brithday, then went to the tualet and banya (bathroom and shower room to brush my teeth), got a text from another volunteer wishing me a happy birthday and sat down for breakfast. Today it was a hardboiled egg, bread (not hot, but made yesterday so still semi-soft) with fresh butter made this morning, and of course çaý. I am now pulling everything I need together for work and will be departing shortly. On my way I plan to stop at the dukan (store) to see if they have tomatoes. I checked yesterday but was told they would have them today, we’ll see. You will see what the tomatoes are for later in this post.

6:25 pm: Work was nice and relaxing, I finished the lesson plan for my kindergarten trip tomorrow. Then I read a book on travel in Italy to prepare for the cruise my wonderful parents are taking me on in May.

At 11:45 someone came to pick me up for the lunch toý that my counterpart threw for me. It was an overall exciting toý on that lasted for 3 full hours and included at least 4 shots of vodka on my part and a lot of meaty meals. There were seven additional people there; 4 doctors, 2 nurses, and one of the women who cleans the clinic. I think we all enjoyed ourselves.

Immediately upon arriving back home I began to prepare my special birthday meal. Lasagna. I began by making the noodles (I’ve only done this once before and didn’t have a recipe either time). I included an egg, water, a little oil, salt and flour. Then I rolled out very thin dough and cut them into long slices and laid them out to dry. I proceeded to make the sauce (tomato paste, tomato mix my sister-in-law made, onions, garlic and Italian spices). Then I went to the garden to pick some spinach from the garden. As the sauce simmered away I proceeded to make a cake (crazy cake recipe) and as the cake baked I made the icing (powdered sugar, butter, vanilla and some water). When the cake came out of the oven I layered the pasta, sauce, spinach and this cheese I bought in Charjew called toureg – it is similar to ricotta. Then at 6:15, a full 3 hours after I started the lasagna went into the oven. It took me another 15 – 30 minutes to clean everything up and now I am simply waiting for it to be all done and ready to eat. I will pull it out at the same time that my family puts the palow out to eat. We will end the evening with a cake. I’ll let you know how the rest goes later tonight, right now I am going to watch some of The Office.

Dinner and dessert are both over and done with. The lasagna didn’t go over as well as I had hoped. I really enjoyed it but there is a lot leftover. I feel like I’ll be eating lasagna for the next week. The cake I made went over really well. My sister-in-law told me it was a really good cake (Turkmen will generally always say food is good because they don’t want to insult you so really good means she truly enjoyed it). Although, there is a lot of that left over as well. I think they were all worried I might not have enough to eat and because I made it for myself they were worried it would be bad if I didn’t have enough. However, I have ¾ of a very large pan of lasagna leftover and over half a cake. Overall it was a very nice day.

Before I tell you the story I have to tell you this is not an isolated event. It has happened several times since arriving at site, however, for storytelling purposes I will explain one of the occasions in which it happened.

Last night I went to a doglan günün toý (birthday party) for the husband of a woman who works at the kindergarten, she and her husband are also related to my host family in some way. After the meal was over (a two course Turkmen style toý with soup and palow – rice with meat and carrots and onions) everyone still at the house gathered in the room I was sitting in and had the birthday man try on most of the clothing items he got as gifts for all of the awed spectators. Then, naturally, everyone says, “Mädik bolsun” – congratulations on your gift! After he has tried on most of the clothing items a woman standing behind him begins to throw candy in the air, there is a great squeal from all of the women in the room and everyone begins to scramble to pick up as much candy as possible. I don’t, unless it happens to fall in my lap, because I’m not a big fan of Turkmen candy. The mysterious hidden woman throws handful after handful of candy onto the tablecloth in the middle of the room. Children are grabbing for the candy but the older women are the most ruthless, pushing children aside to get to the candy and squealing with delight when they have finally captured said candy.

The event sucked me back to my former years standing on the side of the road watching the parade go by. First, the large marching bands with huge drum sections that scared our poor puppy so she cowered beneath dad’s lawn chair, then the floats with people throwing candy. I specifically remember the joyful spirit of the whole event. ‘The Great Candy Scramble’ always brings back those memories and makes me smile, until I am scolded for not scrambling myself, at which point I grab a piece of candy nearest me, smile, and place it in my lap.

Last week I was doing my weekly health lesson at the Kindergarten. The theme was, “I love myself” and I asked each child to draw a picture of them doing something they are really good at. It was an extremely simple concept and one that I thought would be good for this group of kids. I didn’t expect a lot from their pictures because they have really just started to color (I am the only person to have ever given them crayons to use). Before I came they were given colored pencils about once a month to use in the classroom and I have never seen small children using any art tools in the home.

I began the lesson by giving them a few examples then handed out the paper and crayons. My first classroom (4 – 5’s) didn’t really seem to understand the assignment and most of their pictures turned out to be of fruit. We spent the first four or five weeks learning about food so they usually resort to food drawings if they don’t understand. I didn’t worry too much because one of my goals is to get the children to be proud of their work. I walked around the room giving out lots of praise and encouragement.

My second classroom (3 – 4’s) was even worse. I didn’t get a single thing that looked like it could be something that they do well. Again, I got more fruits and vegetables, a lot of circles and then some that are best described as scribbles. But then again, some of these children are only 3 years old.

My final classroom (5 – 6’s) I was a little discouraged about the topic but had a bunch of really great pictures that I love to put up on my wall to decorate and to send home to those of you who send me letters. I am explaining the topic and assignment to the students and then pass out the paper and crayons and they look at me like they don’t understand. So, I ask, “Do you understand?”. They all say yes and then look to their teacher. [This is part of the non-direct nature of Turkmen culture]. The teacher goes to the board and draws a bunch of grapes. [Again because the students have just begun to draw a lot of the time they want to have an example on the board that they copy, I try to get away from this because I want them to be creative and not simply copy what already exists].

I stared at those grapes for a good minute before I understood what was happening. In Turkmen “I love myself” is “Men özüm söýyän”, while “I love grapes” is “Men üzüm söýyän”. It took me another minute to recover from the shock of why no one in the previous two classrooms seemed to understand me. I guess the idea of loving yourself is not prevalent and therefore they assumed that I meant grapes. This is why I got so many pictures of fruit and vegetables. Once I explained the difference this oldest group produced some beautiful pictures of people. The people were still not doing anything, but I had made progress. And I still make mistakes with my language…

International Women and Girls Day is theoretically an international holiday to appreciate all of the things the women and girls do in all of our lives. It is on March 8th each and every year. In Turkmenistan the day involves giving presents to the girls and women in your life. I have received (as of March 4th) two silk flowers. I purchased a bunch of candy for the women and girls in my life here and have begun distributing it as I see fit.

One of the neatest things is that the President of the country takes part in this event. He has set aside enough money for each woman and each girl to get 40 new mannat ($13 – 14). This may not seem like a huge thing, but I could go back and forth between Charjew and home twice for that amount of money. Remember this is a 2+ hour drive each direction.

For my International Women and Girls Day I went to a toý at my counterpart’s house. It also coincided with her husband’s birthday. The toý was split into two halves, the first half was made up of about 6 young women with their very young children – all were under the age of 2. Then the second half was myself, my counterpart, my counterpart’s husband, my sister-in-law (my counterparts daughter), Kervan (my nephew), and an older woman who I believe is my counterpart’s mother. We ate and drank and ate and drank. It was a very nice small gathering which I really enjoyed.

Because the United States does not celebrate this holiday I ask each of you to do one thing when you read this – please let the women and girls in your life know how much you love and appreciate them and in our own way we will spread knowledge of this very important idea. Peace!

Today has been a very odd day, but I think it has been very ‘Turkmen’, therefore I have decided to share it with you.

The day began as many others do. I woke up, very groggily, proceeded to breakfast and then prepared for my Wednesday. As I’ve previously mentioned I spend Wednesday mornings at the kindergarten and I’ve begun (today) to spend Wednesday afternoons teaching girls ‘American cooking’. I had a lot to prepare for today.

Once it was all loaded into my backpack I began the trek to the kindergarten. On the way I stopped at the dukan to purchase a few eggs for the food we were going to make later.

My lesson for the kindergarteners today was not health related. This week is international Peace Corps week so I dedicated my lesson today to talking about America. My goal was to show the students the diversity of America. Diversity of people, places, landscapes, holidays, beliefs, traditions, etc. The students really liked all the pictures I showed them, although I could be mistaking that for their love of my computer. The lesson went really well and I was pleased. I also got a silk flower from one of the girls (this weekend is women’s and girls day so most women and girls get presents, but look for another blog entry on the details of that holiday).

Following the three lessons I walked to the kitchen to say hi to the cooks and chefs and they of course offered me some food. I ate a little knowing that I already had lunch plans but not wanting to offend. I had some bread, some potatoes (served with sugar), and some soup along with the traditional tea.

Onto my next location – a woman named Jemagül who lives near the kindergarten. Her daughter and a few friends taught me how to make Turkmen carpets, it was hard and I am really bad at it. The muscles in my lower arm hurt for a full day after I learned. Anyway, her daughter Arazoul is really great and I have been visiting their house for lunch most days after I’m done with the kindergarten. I’m also supposed to be teaching her and her friends how to make American food (today was going to be our first lesson), but they are all busy making another carpet at another house. We might try to make start this club in a week or two. I hope it all works out! So, I ate lunch there (komelekly işlýk – mushroom Turkmen pizza, which is really more like a calzone). I stayed for a while and chatted and showed some pictures because I had my computer with (I used it to show the pictures to the kids at the kindergarten). After I have spent nearly 2 hours and it is clear the girls are not coming this week to make food I decide it is time to go, I have some things at home that I have to do. I make my polite excuse to leave and begin the walk back home. At this point my backpack is feeling really heavy and I am getting tired and warm.

I walk past all of the school students who are outside on their break and are all staring at me and commenting to their friends. Have you ever walked into a room where you know everyone is talking about you? It was like that except that I can’t help but laugh. The situation is simply so absurd, I know they are all talking about me, about what I’m wearing, about how strange I am and whispering things like, “that’s the American”. And unlike in America where people will avoid looking at you when they’re talking about you Turkmen are not afraid to stare and to continue staring.

So, I’ve past the mob of kids at the school and am nearly back to the dukans (very close to my house) when this guy comes running across the street yelling my name. He looks vaguely familiar. I’m in a friendly mood so I decide to stop and talk with him. He also knows my name (although this isn’t too hard to figure out, I’ve had people who I’ve never met before come up to me and call me by name). He says, where were you? I think, hmmm, I’m really close to home so maybe I could make a run for it. I look at him in that look of nonunderstanding and he says, “Bibi, Ogulgeldi, Jemagül, and Akjagül are all at my house, where have you been?” I know all of those individuals (they are co-workers) so I decide this guy might be trustworthy, I know I can get myself back from nearly anywhere around here, the village is so small that everyone knows everyone else, I handed around a sheet last week to all my doctors and nurses and asked them to sign up for me to myhman (I didn’t see the sheet after it was passed out) and I figure this could be one of those times, and frankly I don’t have much to do that afternoon. The guy points to his car and says, “yer” (come). I hop in the backseat and off he goes, flying at incredible speeds through the mud streets. He pulls up to a house that I know I’ve seen someone at before and I think, it seems like this guy was telling the truth. He honks his horn as I get out of the car. A girl comes out of the house and then turns and yells, “mom!”. Bibi emerges and looks really happy. I am relieved.

At this point I’ve already eaten two meals and I am brought into the house where all the settings for a mini toý are set out. I know that I have to eat a fair amount of food not to offend. Then I notice the main dish – pumpkin manty – one of my favorite meals and I know that these were made for me. Now I have to eat a lot… I proceed to eat as much as I can. Then the vodka comes out and we toast. I ended up spending another hour and 15 minutes there eating and talking with my co-workers. I also made a date for yet another myhman event on Saturday.

On our walk back we ran into many people and it took us another 25 minutes to go on a 5 minute walk. Now, I am here (at my house) exhausted but in a good way, tired due to the alcohol, but really quite pleased how the day turned out. It was weird but good.

Kelsey with counterpart and supervisor. Kelsey wearing her Turkmen Don that she had made. Note the earlier blogs and the challenge to have this made. Note the mothers every where unite. Kelsey's family

Carpets here all all sizes and cover most of the floors in homes. They are also what most sleep on. Checking into what it might cost me to bring a carpet back home of maybe settle for a small carpet that will count a one of my bags when I return.

Back home during the summer my family has spent a fair number of hours biking the mountain biking trails for the past few summers. I really enjoy this pastime. In a lot of ways I miss the workout that really doesn’t feel like a workout because it is too much fun.

When I arrived at site I observed the large number of women riding bicycles and was very excited to be able to ride a bike myself. The price of bikes here is fairly steep for a Peace Corps salary. I could get one if I didn’t spend practically any other money during a month and I plan to save up for one or purchase one off another volunteer when they leave in a year.

I found out a few weeks ago that my family has a few bikes that they use to get around on occasion and I’m constantly asked if I know how to ride a bicycle. I reply, of course I know how to ride a bike. Today I rode my first bike since arriving in the country. All of the women here ride with skirts, I’ve never ridden with one so I chose to go with my sweat pants (especially since I already had them on). I approached the bicycle and was informed there were no brakes (I didn’t actually know the word for brakes but my brother did a good job of acting it out and pointing).

I have never ridden a bicycle without the brakes and while mountain biking I rely on them to reduce the number of times I crash. The roads here aren’t exactly mountain biking trails but they are not paved sidewalks or roads either. There are huge potholes, cars, motorcycles, large puddles of water, deep ruts, holes, small hills, etc. They are dirt/mud roads that are never maintained.

Given all this I did manage to go a ways, turn around, and return home and get the satisfactory rating of “gowy” or “good”. My family approves my bike riding skills. That doesn’t mean I didn’t get a little freaked out when I reached to hit the brakes and they weren’t there. So, instead I crashed into a fence (this was before my jaunt while I was riding in our backyard).

The joy of Kervan (aka the joy of children)

For those of you who don’t know one of the members of my host family is a little boy who is 9 months and one week old. He is my host nephew. The people who live in my house are my parents, one of my brothers, a sister – in – law (who isn’t married to the brother living at home but a different brother who lives two hours away) and Kervan. Kervan literally means caravan. I keep meaning to ask my family why they named him that but as of now don’t have the answer.

I have spent my fair share of time with children. While growing up I earned a living by doing copious amounts of babysitting, I’ve taught Sunday school lessons, school aged children, and have a number of cousins who were at one point very small. I have not, however, spent a large amount of time watching the development of one child. I have been living with my host family for the past two months and a week and have had the opportunity to watch Kervan change dramatically in the past few months.

He is, as many other little boys are, very active. Dilber, his mother and my sister – in – law, asked me a few weeks ago if he was a good boy. I replied that he is very curious and always happy, so yes, he is a good boy. She said, but he’s always dirty, he gets into so many things that he shouldn’t.

Kervan began attempting to walk several weeks ago. I don’t know exactly when the transition from not walking to walking happens, but I think he is currently somewhere in the middle. The first step was being able to pull himself up. In Turkmenistan that step proved somewhat difficult as there really isn’t anything to pull oneself up onto. There is very little furniture and therefore human beings became his playground. My favorite is when Kervan sneaks up behind you, uses his arms on your back to kneel and then pushes at your back until he finally is standing upright. It is rather challenging to prevent him from falling backwards when he is behind you.

Turkmen have a small celebration when children begin to walk. I had the opportunity to take pictures and some video for this celebration for Kervan. The general idea is to have him walk and then roll several rounds of çorek shaped similar to tires on either side of him. Then you congratulate him (Kervan) on his ability to walk. My favorite part of this celebration was the noise coming out of his mouth. It was some combination between a screech, yell, howl, and grunt. I believe I managed to catch this noise with my camera in a short video. If I (or my family at home) can figure out how to post video it will appear here at some point.

When I first arrived Kervan would find pleasure in staring at me. This is because I have glasses. There are very few ophthalmologists in Turkmenistan and therefore very few people get their eyes checked – ever. As a result the only people who ever have glasses are usually doctors and a few older members of the community who read. My glasses were a source of initial fear (doctors give shots) and now they are a source of entertainment. Kervan finds extreme pleasure in attempting to touch my glasses. He hasn’t had the opportunity yet because I’ve seen what he does with things that he finds fascinating (he pounds them into the ground and into other things). I’ve seen my father’s glasses broken, a ceramic tea pot, and numerous small toys.

Now, don’t get me wrong, he is not always a perfect laughing, bubbly, curious child. He does cry, make large messes, and today I had the pleasure of watching him throw up a large amount of milk (those of you who know my reaction to vomit know this was not a pleasant experience for me). Most Turkmen call all children haýwan (animal) or maýmyn (monkey) whenever they do something that isn’t in good behavior. Kervan gets called haýwan almost as much as he gets called Kervan.

When I found out I was going to be living with another small child (my training family had a baby a week after I arrived) I was disappointed. Children are fine, but they tend to cry and get into things they’re not supposed to, and generally make trouble. Whereas a girl aged 15 – 21ish who is unmarried (a sister) could be a great source of joy and entertainment. I didn’t get a sister but I did get a sister – in – law who is fantastic and I got her beautiful son. I am very happy how everything has worked out. I wake up every day and have a constant source of joy. I simply need to look into Kervan’s eyes, see him smile or laugh at me, and I’m all set. My only hope is that I will eventually be trusted to take care of him and not to screw up! I’ve already let him fall over when he bumped his head and I’ve given him the crust of the bread which he can’t chew. But just a little over a half hour ago he crawled into my bedroom unaccompanied sat down on my floor and watched me clean my room. Then I sat down and gave him the three toys I have in my room that are exciting (a stuffed lion that my family sent which will be his when he turns one, a plastic coca-cola bottle that I use to store clean water, and a jiff peanut butter jar filled with permanent markers that sounds very similar to a rattle). There we played until Dilber came to take him away.

I’m sure to those of you with children this is not anything new, but for those of you who don’t have children this post may be of particular interest. Everything is new and shiny through the eyes of a child. I’ll be sure to keep you posted on any new/fun changes in Kervan’s life.

As always I hope you are healthy, happy and that you find peace.

I love Wednesdays!

And today was no exception (1/21/09)! I begin every Wednesday with my weekly trip to the kindergarten. If you haven’t already heard this is one of the highlights of my week. There are several reasons for this. Firstly; it is the only real Peace Corps Health related activity that I have right now. Secondly; I get to see around 75 children ages 3 – 6 who are generally well behaved and are gradually getting more and more used to me. Today on my way to the kindergarten (a half hour walk away) someone said hi to me before I said hi to them – progress! When I arrived at the K-garten I went to my first classroom (4 – 5 year olds) and the teacher who is my father’s sister was there. She is wonderful! As I was walking into the classroom a particularly cute little girl sees me and runs to give me a hug. She is one of the most enthusiastic children in this classroom and it immediately brightens my day. I teach my lesson which includes “head, shoulders, knees and toes” then a short lesson on why fruits and vegetables are important to us. I’m in the middle of a very long nutrition theme at the moment. The children then all draw pictures of their favorite fruit or vegetable. Then they all gave them to me. So, in addition to the few that will make it up on my wall I’ll probably be sending some home in letters in the future. Then I move onto the 5 – 6’s. Each classroom has a special place in my heart but this classroom is special because these students usually understand my message better than the other two classes, and they really get into any games or songs we do. They sing along, loudly, to “head, shoulders, knees and toes” and at the end of the lesson I tried fruit basket mix up, it was entertaining! Then I moved onto the 3 – 4’s. I’m still working on this classroom, several of the children are scared of me in this classroom. They do the motions for the song but only one child actually sings it with me. At the end of their lesson I also had them draw pictures of their favorite fruit and while some children understood the concept others weren’t quite there yet. Today was my third week at the kindergarten and each and every week after I’m done the cooks in the kitchen have boiled pumpkin ready for me to eat. They know I don’t eat meat and that I really like pumpkin (this is Turkmen pumpkin and it is slightly different than what we have back home). So, I sat in the kitchen talking with the cooks while eating my pumpkin. I left to walk home. After the enjoyable walk I arrived home to the smells of one of the most surprising meals I’ve had while here. Even though I had already eaten almost an entire meal at the kindergarten I ate some of the foil dinner. I then retreated to my room to take a nap because I knew I was going to help get ready for a birthday toý this evening and I would need as much patience and brain energy as possible. I awoke and my parents, who were sitting outside in the beautiful weather, said that I should go over to Aysoltan’s (my counterpart) to help prepare for the toý. This particular toý was a birthday party for my counterpart’s one year old granddaughter, Enejaň. (Translation of this name is mother dear. A lot of times when someone dies the next child born in that family receives this name or the male equivalen Atajaň or Babajaň, the children also receive a second name that is used more informally I believe Enejaň’s is Lila or something similar to that). I put on my toý koýnek (party dress) and walked the two doors down to help prepare for the toý. I basically placed a bunch of different kinds of salads on various plates and then brought those plates to one of the five different rooms where food was set up. During this process I, naturally, tasted the food as I went along. There were four different kinds of salad. The first was a beat and mayonnaise salad. The second was a cabbage, dill, pickle, garlic, salt, and mayonnaise salad. The third was basically a potato salad containing potatoes, carrots (baked), pickles, peas, and mayonnaise. And finally, my favorite, the bread salad which has peas, spinach, little pieces of bread (kind of like stuffing sized bread), cheese and mayonnaise. Then we put compote (homemade pickled juice) into bowls. There was erikli (apricot), almaly (apple), pomidorli (tomato), and another fruit whose name I can’t seem to recall in either English or Turkmen. I was then taken to one of the five rooms which was where I was supposed to eat. I sat and relaxed while people arrived. This toý was particularily exciting because I knew a lot of the people who came to it. Several of the doctors and nurses came and I was able to talk with them. Several of my sister-in-law’s siblings as well as friends of my family who I had previously met were all in attendance. This makes talking a lot easier. They all know about where my level of Turkmen is. We have some history together which makes talking much easier and they all like me, I hope! The pinnacle of the evening was when Enajaň received her gifts. I was the evening’s photographer because I was the only person with a real camera. There were two other people taking pictures (or video) on their cell phones. The present giving was essentially Enejaň and her mother sitting on a sheet in the middle of a room with probably 50 other people crowding in trying to give their presents, most of which were 10,000 manat bills which they stuffed into her clothes. She was obliged to try on everything she received which was just about enough to make a person cry. It certainly was enough for Enejaň. When my watch finally read sometime after 9pm Dilber (sister-in-law) asked if I wanted to go home. I was most certainly ready to retreat so I said my farewells and went outside planning to walk home alone and found my brother who escorted me home (the whole two houses over). We talked about the toý and he mentioned that he doesn’t like a lot of people. I mentioned how we had that in common. The evening is winding down and on the way back from my nightly trip to the bathroom I looked up into the sky to see the beautiful sky filled with bright stars. I truly love being so far from main cities at night. It makes the sky so much brighter and more beautiful. Today was a beautiful day!

I did it!

Did what? Well, I crossed off another one of the bazaar things that I have wanted to do since I’ve gotten here. The list keeps growing but it includes things like make çorek (Turkmen bread) start to finish, learn to can things, garden our HUGE backyard, milk the cows, etc. One of those things was to make peanut butter from scratch. It is that item that I have officially crossed off my list. The story for the motivation behind the peanut butter is not short. It begins with a fellow PCV, a T-15 who is extending (this means she has already done two years and is starting her third year as we speak). Her name is Adrienne. Adrienne has done a lot of things over her two years in country and one of those things was having a girls’ club in which they participated in all sorts of activities including milking goats and making cheese out of those goats and, naturally, making peanut butter from scratch. This got me excited because as an avid peanut butter fan living in a country that does not have peanut butter is a challenging proposition. I slyly inquired how one might go about making said peanut butter and her reply was something along the lines of buy a bunch of peanuts, take off the silly brown casing (peanuts here come pre-shelled but with that dark brown covering), grind them really small and add salt and oil. I think, that doesn’t sound too hard I just need to get a grinder. I contemplated buying Adrienne’s when she leaves but that leaves me at the mercy of friends and family for my peanut butter needs for another entire year.

One week ago I found out, or realized, that my family has a grinder. I was elated! I made this realization after eating something very similar to foil dinners on several occasions. These dinners included ground beef along with the normal foil dinner ingredients. Now I had all of the necessary items (once I bought peanuts) but I needed some motivation…

I have been spending one morning a week at the kindergarten in town and we are currently doing nutrition. I have had brilliant ideas for the previous three weeks and this week we are covering the meat and protein group. I suggest you try to come up with a good idea to keep 3 – 6 year olds enthralled with meat for a half an hour, especially when you, as the educator, don’t like meat or talking about it for that matter. I thought about it for a while and thought, hey, maybe kids would like it if I made food for them. And I love to bake, so perhaps I could make some sort of baked good. But then we run into how a person is going to link baked goods to meat. I don’t bake with meat and even if I did I have no idea what I would make. Here comes my motivation for peanut butter…peanut butter cookies!!! I know…it is a stretch, but I’ll make it work (the lesson is tomorrow morning).

Now we return to the making of the peanut butter. I walk to the dukan (store) and buy a kilo of peanuts because I figure the container that my parents sent me fits 2 pounds 8 ounces of peanut butter and since it is empty it needs filling up. Once I’ve purchased the peanuts I settle onto a cushion on the floor with my bag of peanuts with the annoying casings, a ziploc bag for the good peanuts, and my garbage bin to throw all the brown casings and I pop in a movie (The Prestige). I finish the movie and look at my progress…hmm…well I thought I had done a lot of peanuts! I opt to put in another movie (The Bee Movie). Cute movie…well this is going to take longer than I had anticipated. I continue putting movies in and watching them while shelling peanuts and before I know it I’ve seen Eastern Promises, Babel, The Last King of Scotland, Capote and Enchanted. At this point I know I’m in trouble it took me 7 movies to get rid of the stupid brown casings on 1 kilo of peanuts and I want to make peanut butter cookies out of this which will involve using at least half of it during the making. Why did I have to get myself into this? Onto the next phase – the grinding, I take all of my peanuts to the kitchen along with my oil and set up the grinder and begin to grind. I quickly discover that the grinder doesn’t want to stay put. Although even with that obstacle this task took a mere 30 minutes (and that included a twice through on the grinder). The result is a fine paste of peanuts. I am adequately satisfied but now comes the guessing aspect. How much salt do I put in and how much oil? I know the consistency I want so I simply add small amounts of salt and oil and then stir and taste. The answer – a little salt and a lot of oil (well maybe a half cup or so, maybe a cup). The final part of this horror project will take place tonight when I make cookies for 75 children their 5 or so teachers and the 10 or so other workers at the kindergarten. That is 90 cookies, let alone the ones I’m obliged to make for my family any time I bake and if I want to have any for myself I’d better first make some for my coworkers at the clinic. We have a weekly English meeting on Thursday that I should probably bring some to. My guess is I’ll end up making 90 small cookies (very small) and then another 50 – 60 for everyone else. 150 cookies, no sweat…well maybe not much but there will certainly be no sleep! It is already 6:17pm and I have to wait to make the cookies until after we eat dinner which won’t be for another hour or so. I also HAVE to take a shower tonight. Don’t ask how long it has been, you really don’t want to know, it may scare you! Take care! As a final thought I’ve included my ‘to do in Turkmenistan’ list as it currently stands below. Enjoy!

Learn to pickleMilk the cows on my ownBe trusted with Kervan for more than 5 minutesMake a real friendMake Peanut Butter from scratchMake butter/Yogurt/Sour Cream/Cheese from scratchFarm/GardenRide a camelRide a donkeyBe able to understand a conversation during mhykmanning (guesting)Go to 75 toý’s (parties – I’m already at 12)Make an artistic masterpieceMake çorek start to finish (bread)Watch the tamdyr being made (tamdyr is the oven that bread is made in)Learn to make Turkmen carpets!