So we have a Russian computer guy at the college.  My counterpart and I used to go to him a lot to get computer things fixed or set up.  Basically we used him when my computer tech skills failed.  Which wasn't often because I can plug a computer into the wall for power, but sometimes things went wrong. More often than not though I went to him when I got in over my head in Russian.  ALL of the computers here are top to bottom in Russian but my computer sense and intuition gets me through most of it.  The cognates also help.  But sometimes I actually have to read to know if I should say "yes" or "no." So I would go to him and he would have this look of "you again, you without the brain, ugh..."  And I would prattle on, in broke ass Russian, about how I don't know a few of these words and if it were in English I could do it cause I really know what to do but I can't do it in Russian and I'm really sorry to bother you and blah blah blah.  He never listened cause my Russian turned into pseudo-English gibberish about half way through. Well a few months ago I got a really nasty, old virus and then my counterpart's computer got it.  Well, we both got it from the same flash.  That's the reason I'm currently running Linux but that's beside the point.  My counterpart asked Misha, the computer guy, to reinstall everything on her computer. Well at some point she sent me up to his typical, creepy IT guy office and I asked if whatever she needed was done.  He said no but told me to hang out for a few minutes as it would be done soon.  Well, then of course he wanted to talk.  He was asking me all sorts of questions about how I learned Russian and what I did everyday and my experience with computers.  I could mostly keep up with my Russian but it was limited to answers a small child would give.  At this point, I talk how I can and swallow the shame.  Anyway, he started telling me about when I first came to the college and how obvious it was that I knew NO Russian whatsoever.  That was great... In the end, he told me that I should come around more, that it was too interesting to talk with foreigners.  Afterward, a few days later, my counterpart came up to me and was telling me about a conversation she had had with Misha after that.  He was so excited to have finally talked with me and he told her how she should invite me to his house for him.  Or something like this.  He just really, really wanted to hang out more.  Which sadly I haven't done.  Life's been crazy y'all.  Don't judge.  I did go and say goodbye to him when I left the college and he seemed both surprised and a lil' sad that I was leaving so I feel like maybe he did enjoy our few brief conversations.  Integration success!

I have been here too long and I kind of love it.  By "it" I mean hair and fashion here.  (I have some fashion stories so this one is one devoted to hair! YAY!)  I have fallen head over heels for the rat tail.  Specifically, the Kazakh power braid.  My roommate decided to have two braids when we were living together: "To be like Chengis Xan."  This was one braid at the bottom of his hair and one on the crown of his head.  I was totally against it.  At first. Then I started looking around town.  All the cool kids had power braids, the phrase which I decided they would be renamed to.  My person favorite look required a lot of forethought, and by that I mean the kids parent's had to decide that they needed a top power braid basically from birth.  Basically, you need about two foot of braid and a trucker mesh hat.  You were the hat jauntily on your head and have your braid come through the hole in the back of the hat.  PURE.  AWESOME!  (There was this one kid in my neighborhood who had this look down and was a snappy dresser to boot—skin tight shirts and cut off shorts with pumas—I kind of stalked him for a while.  Don't judge.  It was for fashion.) Anyway, I decided to get myself a power braid.  So I learned how to say it in Russian, which is simply "tail," and took Katie with me to the beauty salon.  We walked in and she read her magazine in distaste while my new barber cut my hair.  I've been growing it for 3 months now.  I refuse to cut it before 2012 at the earliest.  I must say though that the hair at my hair line is fairly curly and my power braid is already starting to curl up. I kind of like, though I feel the need to tie it already as it makes my neck hot in the 100+ weather.  And before you judge my curly "rat tail" let me tell you it's no where as bad as the curly poodle mullets I see on boys or permed into old women here.  So there. I forgot.  As we were leaving Katie ran through the various phrases of disgust and disbelief that I had actually gone through with it and this the end of that conversation: K: So when we're 60 and friends and you come to visit me and we're playing Cribbage I'm going to mock you endlessly about that time in Kazakhstan you had a rat tail. P: And I will whip you from across the table with my 7 foot rat tail and that will be that. K: Oh god.  You would. You.. would..  /sigh. /laugh.

So recently, within the my last month in Kazakhstan, I had a strange bus situation.  I've been riding the bus here for two years.  It costs 35 tenge to ride the bus.  It has cost this from day one and I've known this since day one.  I've paid with bills up to 1000 tenge, which even I feel bad doing.  Locals have no problem handing the teenage money collector a 5000 tenge bill and expecting change.  Let me back up here.  The bus is worked by two people.  The driver, who is off limits unless you are a young, "easy" girl or an old man acquaintance.  Then they chat and chat and chat and I fear that we will die because they never seem to pay enough attention to the insane traffic.  The second person, the 'conductor', goes around and collects fares and shouts the bus stops at us and at people wanting to get on.  So the conductor can be anyone.  A 90 year old lady, a 12 year old boy, one of my students (that was an awkward bus ride), or any type of person you can imagine.  I mean from models to trolls to excessively pregnant women.  They aren't too choosy in the hiring office apparently. Anyway, these people squirm around in the OVERLY OVERLY OVERLY (I can't even begin to explain how stuffed some of these buses are—think the photos of Japanese people getting pushed onto trains) packed buses collecting money.  I give exactly change as often as possible, even though this is a pain in the ass and requires THREE separate coins.  I've never had a problem EVER with getting change or anything really.  I've gotten lost but that's normally my fault. So this one time it's a typical young Kazakh guy conductor and he refuses to talk to me.  He sees through my local dress and somehow guesses I am foreign (or in retrospect, he may have not known Russian and assumed I was and avoided talking all together, it happens, though kind of rarely) and will not open his mouth.  I hand him the money and he starts flashing five fingers at me.  The conductor is normally lacking in 5 tenge coins because they give them back to 90% of the passengers in change.  I shake my head and tell him I don't have any change.  Well he looks at me like I spoke in Martian and simply walked away.  WITHOUT GIVING ME MY CHANGE!!!!!!!!!!! Argh! I was SO angry.  Who does that?  Never before have I had that happen and I was a bit indignant.  I mean, yes, it was only 5 tenge.  But that someone just walked away from me with my money in his hand. So. Rude. (This story ended up being MUCH longer than I expected, I think I got a bit worked up.. Haha.)

So I used to walk Becca Gong home almost every night.  We were host cousins and she lived about 10 or 15 minutes away.  It would be dark and I had no problem doing it.  Plus the girl gets lost at the drop of a hat.  One time I told her bye and watched her walk away from her house which was essentially across the street.  I try not to let her live that down. So we saw a lot of really weird things on this one stretch of street.  About three blocks worth.  In the rain it would be a lake and in the winter it was a sheet of ice covered in snow.  Despite my hysteria over ice I still went, let's pretend Kazakhstan has made me a gentleman.  That sounds classy. One night we were walking and we noticed something kind of strange in front of us.  This guy was holding two girls hands.  Like one on each side.  This was strange.  Now its not unusual to see three or more people with linked hands here, but usually its all girls.  Or a girl holding her boyfriend's hand and her BFF's in the other.  That's weird but OK, I suppose...  Well this guy was trying to be a pimp and we couldn't stop laughing at how ludicrous this situation was.  Becca tried to get her camera out to take a photo but we were too far and it was too dark.  Sad face. Well, the next night I was walking her home again and BAM!  They're back.  All three of the weirdos.  Holding hands walking around like a doofy trio in love.  This was not the brother walking his sisters' hands stroll or even hand hold.  There was something suggestively date-y about it.  So second chances don't come often so we ran up to catch them and took several pictures from behind.  Sadly miracles like this are apparently like vampires and are just impossible to photograph.  Thankfully I can type about it at least.

I was at a water park with one of my new friends and all of his friends. When the camera guy came around to ask if we wanted a photo they all said yes. Later when I went to visit a different guy's house I saw several photos just like the one we had taken. I thought maybe they had wanted to do it because I was there. Nope. I was just a perk. Well about 30 minutes after our photo was taken the kid came and brought us our pictures. They were passing around our copies and there was a lot of rapid fire, non-intelligible Russian going on. All I could really hear was a lot of "black" and "white." Then my friend turned to me and said "We should photoshop it so we're all as white as you." I died. Then I looked at the photo. Then I really died. I looked like a constipated vampire who was annoyed to have finally been caught on film. White doesn't begin to describe how I looked. This was in early July by the way. White like a sheet of paper. Sitting between two shirtless Uzbek guys who were as tan as brown crayons. When I started telling them how I wished I was as dark as they were they lost interest because they assumed I was a crazy person without a brain. I knew the girls here hated being dark, but apparently the boys are just as sensitive though too lazy to stay out of the sun like the girls.

One time I was hosting an English club when insanity broke out. I had planned a lesson about card games in America which my students shot down point-blank. This is not at all unusual. I got told all the time about how bad I was at club. While I agree (because I hate club, give me a grammar class any day, thanks), I had prepared a whole hour of card games rules, vocab, culture, etc. This was my third to last English class so I lost patience with them after a year of this and told them to host today. I asked them what we were going to do. Immediately I told them how bored I was and how they were not very interesting or entertaining. After a few more minutes of silence I asked them why they weren't teaching me anything new. After reiterating a few more times how bored I was told, I started a discussion about how hard it is to teach and to prepare and how that can be made even harder but students who work against you. They could care less. Well the hour was half over when about 25 people showed up. The room we have to do club is about as big as a large closet and there were already 8 students in the room, so it was a mess. These new "students" were mostly middle aged women who didn't know any English but were interested in an English camp that they thought was through me. It was not—the private English center across the hall was responsible. That didn't stop them no. They began bombarding me with questions in Russian. Which I understood. But I was tired and tired of this situation so I told them that I didn't know any Russian. One woman made one of my regulars translate word by word a series of common questions: What is your name? How old are you? Are you married? Why are you here? Do you like Shymkent? Now I also had a few new questions that made me laugh: Why don't you know Russian. I met other volunteers in Kokshetau who said it was a volunteers job to learn the culture and language. We apparently have to pass a language and culture test before we can be brought into Kazakhstan. That was news to me. Half of this was in Russian and they never really caught on to the fact that I laughed as they spoke or that I responded to their Russian questions in English. The point of this story. I was literally asked 14 times how old I was. These women (and two men) didn't understand enough to realize that I being asked the same questions over and over. I ended up just going with "I'm still 26, haven't had a birthday though it feels like it's been a year." My regulars new I was joking in good fun but they were getting annoyed. A few of my students actually left in a huff over how stupid this had all become. And I wasn't even really upset, felt like a total normal, useless English club.

One time I was on the bus with Katie and James. Maybe Sipra? Geez, can't remember anything. Well I do remember this small Kazakh girl sitting at the other end of the bus. This little girl, probably five or six, started started at us, James I think. Well he decided to start making faces at her. Normally this is horrifying enough for local kids that the would stop. But not this little girl, no. She busted out a serious cross-eyed face in return. Of course this went on for a while with all of us taking taking turns making faces. She only had her one face, but man did she try really hard. Looked like her eyeballs might switch sockets. Her mother was oblivious to this whole thing, of course. Eventually the girl had to give up. She about blew up her poor little eye balls. We all sat in giggly shame as she had to close and rub her eyes for about five minutes. We resolved not to ruin the eyes of any more Kazakh children. Though she went back into the fray a few minutes later, we actually managed not to egg her on.

I cannot tell you how many times I've been told how uneducated I am here. I don't know anything about World War II. Why? Because America was never in WWII. News to you too, right? The most contentious area however is geography. My students and strangers and friends and basically anyone from here will tell me from time to time how "As an American, you don't know anything about the world." Now in America I would agree. People do apparently get Mexico and Canada wrong on the map, but here I kind of feel like a super genius and I tend to call everyone equally stupid, American or Kazakhstanian. My students in geography get their own neighboring countries wrong, though in THEIR defense the borders are a little weird in the southwest, but whatever. I've been called in several times to different country studies class to clear up one of the strangest and most pervasive errors. The question: How many states are there in the United States of America? 50. "No. You forgot Alaska!" EVERY TIME! Actually student, I didn't forget Alaska. You are just misinformed. Sometimes I really blow their mind and talk about Puerto Rico or Guam. This is always followed up with "Then, how many stars are on the flag?" To which I answer 50. They NEVER believe me though. It's crazy...

I have no sense of what was normal in America because I've forgotten basically everything. I know that little kids do get into public fountains in America. In Duluth we even had a fountain that was more aqua park than decoration. But I never remember adults getting in on it. Nor do I imagine people jumping in fully clothed in street clothes or worse stripping down to nothing and hopping in. Well, in Kazakhstan all of this happens. There used to be this awesome fountain near the state university that was the old Soviet symbol for Shymkent, which we all called the 4 Cs. Well they tore it down and in its place built this... thing. Its a giant tulip I suppose, but it's horrible. Its sheets of awkwardly overlapping red metal bolted together to vaguely resemble some might think of as a flower. It looks more like the Mario fire flower come to real life. Not as cool as it sounds, though the idea salvages it from being a complete travesty. I miss the old fountain if you can't tell. One day I was with Katie and some of her coworkers. We had been walking around giving people fliers about keeping Shymkent clean and beautiful which people promptly crumpled and threw on the ground. We ended at the fountain which was surrounded by people taking photos and or splashing each other. Well these two sisters came with their little brothers. The boys had swim suits and were prepared. The girls obviously were not planning on getting wet. Well, that didn't end so well. First, the girl in the green tried to get her sister wet by redirecting a jet and only succeeded in spraying herself. Then when she helped one of the boys into the fountain the other boy charged her from behind and shoved her into the fountain. Now this fountain has minimal water in it. He basically pushed her into a half empty pool. I'm still deciding if this was funny or sad, because all I could think about was how they would get home. Can you take the bus SOAKING wet? Probably. Would you want to? Anyway, she pretended to be horrified but then would get out. She tried unsuccessfully to get her sister wet several more times and the boys took turns soaking her or knocking her back into the fountain whenever she tried to climb out. This is one of those things where I am more confused and concerned that amused, but it had its moments. Would this happen in America? I think "No" but I know that I'm a bit out of touch.

In every indoor bathroom I've been in, it's been an interesting experience. The pipes conduct every sound from the other bathrooms and somehow every other room in the building also. I've heard everything you can imagine. The most common sounds include crying babies, screaming mothers, and sex noises. The first two I completely understand. But really, sex noises? I mean, any hour you go in there you hear people somewhere getting it on. And don't think me so naive. The grunting and shouting from people going to the toilet are completely distinguishable. When I first arrived in Kazakhstan I was one of the lucky few volunteers who had an indoor toilet and not an outhouse. Well, lucky is a relative term. Not only did I hear more than I cared to, but it seemed that the toilets in that building were always being used. It was until after the fourth or fifth time I got dripped on did I realize that it was not a water pipe dripping on me but the refuse pipe carrying crap into the sewage system. One could argue that Kazakhstan has been shitting on me since I've gotten here, it's just gotten less literal.

During most holidays, the ones not in the winter at least, people traipse over to a park and mill around. There are several obligatory things at the parks during these celebrations: Beggars, noise makers for children, giant kazans of plov, enough shashlik smoke to black out an entire quarter of the park, and strange photo opt scenes set up for families and children to pose at. Since this year is the year of the rabbit, there were lots of giant creepy stuffed rabbit things for children to cling to, sit on, or be terrified of. I go with option three. Imagine a demented taxidermist making the Donnie Darko bunny costume out of felt and then for some reason more than half of them were painted with cheetah spots. Don't ask me... There were also the standard assortment of giant toy trucks, terrifying reindeer, giant fake flowers, arches, and weird fake backdrops. I'm always surprised that there are such long lines for the picture scenes. We always walk around the whole park looking and being generally confused by this or that and we always run across one spot filled with the noise of several gas generators. The first time I saw this place I was confused but then we got closer and found that these generators are used to power printers that spit out the pictures people wait in line for. Somehow, maybe on the camera or in some other secret area filled with computers, they manage to put the most horrifyingly tacky borders on each of the pictures. Imagine random, off-brand Disney characters, flowers, English gibberish, and seasonal decorations for the wrong season framing a picture of a terrified Kazakh toddler perched on the back of a giant moose thing covered in purple felt with his older brother menacing him with a fake machine gun. This is totally 100% true. I don't think even I could make this up...

I was waiting for my friend Laura outside of the Costco of Kazakhstan a few weeks ago when I saw this little boy come shuffling up to the front door. Now while his pentathlon feet-on-the-ground was enough to make me remember him and chuckle a bit, his impressively long braid was way cooler. I'm jealous of all of the little kids with two feet braids coming from the tops of their heads. Forget tradition and good luck, this is a love born of aesthetics and fashion. Anyway, he continued his awkward mom-at-the-mall power walk and his mother and sister followed after him shortly. About 20 seconds later while I was still tabulating how long it would take to get my braid that long this little boy made another appearance. He walked down the steps and stood directly in front of the doors and whipped his junk out. He proceeded to empty his bladder on the road in front of the Costco of Kazakhstan, S'Mall. Now this place is happening and people are constantly going in and out. This little boy had no shame but at least had the sense to crane his neck left and right and looking rather worried. I'm sure his mother sent him out to pee, but maybe he knew he shouldn't be pissing at the entrance. Anyway, he finished, took the time to shake off, and then shuffled back inside. I sat there with my silent laughter telling people telepathically "don't walk on that wet spot." My telepathy didn't seem to work so well that day.

There was one older Russian man who lived in the next building to my host families that always hung out of his window and watched people. We all shopped at the same small store and I ran into him a few times in the store. Every time he invited me to his house for tea because he realized very quickly that was foreign. On particular occasion both of the ladies who work at the shop were there and heard him invite me. As usual I said I would go if I had time and they both were horrified. They both turned on him and began yelling. It was hilarious. They were telling him that I wasn't going to go and have vodka with him and that "tea" was a poor excuse. He of course was drunk and was trying to say that he just wanted to give me some tea. These women have known him for a long time and told him frankly all sorts of things that I can only guess at. This all happened rather early in my service so my Russian was extra poor and I had to piece together what was going on from only about 20% of the words being said. It is also noteworthy that Russians will talk shit to a drunk's face or talk about the drunk to someone else while the drunk listens. I was a bit blown away when the ladies turned to me in the middle of yelling at him to tell me what a drunk he was, albeit a harmless one. They told me that he was stupid and that I could ignore him. He stood there with a stupid look on his face and didn't say a contrary word. Actually, once they started yelling at him he basically just stood there completely passive. I bought my Fanta and ramen noodles and skipped out as fast as possible while the lovely shop assistants continued to berate him.

One time on a marshrutka I was sitting in my typical uncomfortable seat. Bags in my lap, crammed up against the window, on the wheel well. Good times. I was coming back from somewhere, can't remember exactly which village, but I know it was about a two hour trip. Local people tend to pass out within 30 seconds of the engine being turned on and sleep the whole way. Personally I think its the exhaust that inevitably gets funneled into the van because it makes me light-headed and sleepy. Anyway, I can never sleep because the roads here make Louisiana's I-10 seem like the perfectly paved highway to heaven. On this trip there was a fly that kept buzzing around my head. I am reasonably patient, even with flies, but the hot, cramped conditions were making me furious. Once again my fire-starter powers were on the fritz and I couldn't make the fly die in a puff of telepathic fire. Part way on the trip back some people got off in the middle of nowhere and at the next random bus stop in the middle of nowhere we picked up some more passengers. We picked up a family who had a small Kazakh boy, maybe 5 or 6 years old. Well the fly got agitated when we stopped and he ended up buzzing around the boy. This little kid eyeballed the fly for a while. Then he stalked him with raised fist for a few more minutes. Then POW. Open-palmed the little boy destroyed the fly up against the window. Oh, if I remember this little boy was also singing very quietly in Kazakh the whole time. It was a sight to see. He flicked the fly onto the ground, wiped his hands off the head rest in front of him, and continued to stare out of the window and sing to himself. I wanted to present the kid a medal, but I settled on a stately mental congratulations.

In the middle of one of the snows we had this winter we had a few warm spells where a lot of the snow melted. These days were not so fun because often the water refroze rather quickly as ice. Well on this particular day the snow on the roofs had melted and the ice on the ground had not. Of course, I was waddling along in fear at a brain-numbingly slow pace when I come up to this one stretch of sidewalk. This stretch of cement was busted up and a low spot--so in the rain it became a lake. Of course this lake was frozen over so I had to skirt around it like everyone else. While grimacing and grumbling like always I saw the funniest thing I'd seen in a while. This woman was standing near the edge of ice patch holding on to a beam that supported the awning of a little shop. On one foot. Why you ask? She was holding her other foot up to clean it on the trickle of water coming from the roof. Now this was really a sight to see. First off you'd get more pressure and volume spitting vigorously but she was determined. Also this was a big lady, the fact that she was on one foot holding the other ballerina-pointed in the air was amazing and hilariously. She had a smudge of muddy slush on her 4 inch stiletto winter boots and she was not having it. She stood there turning her shoe this way and that trying to get it clean. And all I could think is that in about ten steps you're going to walk back through all the muddy slush and just get dirty again—that and how her immaculate dome of curly black hair was really a bad balance for her shoes. She looked like a leather clad bowling pin upside down. But that's people here for you. They will happily stop every 25 steps to bend down and clean their shoes. Even in the snow.

My goal is to post 100 stories about my time in Kazakhstan before I leave. I have about 37 days (depending on my posting date for this entry) to accomplish this. This is more or less 3 stories per day. Since this is the end of my service I'm hoping I can hold on to this schedule.**This count was obviously wrong.To update life: things be going crazy.  I have a new apartment and it's going well.  Olessya Mikhilovna should be given an award.  I'm voting for best person ever. More later as I am not trapped in a lunch rush trying to steal internet :DAnd thus will follow my 100 stories, with random interjections.

i think i'm finally in a place where i can start updating again.all thanks to a little girl in a siberian tiger jacket with some pink leggings, the sudden, violent rebirth of my ovaries, and one too many mushy movies.

the saddest news of the day is the fact that my beloved boots are made of fail. my doc marten's which i love far too much are the cause of endless pain and horror. i simply can't walk in them in the snow. last year makes too much sense now. the sliding, slipping. the horror and panic attacks, while real, they were unknowingly self-inflicted. those boots are kind of the devil. today i finally made the executive decision to switch to my slip on sketchers after almost dying of a heart attack on the early walk to work. my triumphant return to work later this same day happened on the much sturdier footing of my weather inappropriate dress shoes. i had the prowess and confidence of an old mountain goat or a small kazakh child swaddled in enough protective clothing to survive a nuclear bomb. it was refreshing.

now let me say that the panic and deep hole of last winter has in no way taken hold this year. i have been greatful for this but i attributed it to the wrong factor. we had snow once, maybe twice and while it stuck around in shadows and corners like a shamed intruder skulking but to stupid to exit gracefully, it has been blessedly ice free the whole winter. now i realize that the ice has been more or less here, but the lack of ankle deep snow means i have been free to wear my regular shoes. one day recently i wore these shoes despite the inches of snow and paid for it with damp pants but no slipping. two days ago i made the switch and had a brief revival of the trauma of last winter. well, that's done. i have gone as insane as actually speaking to a stranger in russian to find out the cost of repairing my beloved shoes so that i don't have to worry about them leaking on me.

ok. sorry. pitiful shoe/snow rant. forgive me my sins, especially anyone who doesn't have green grass on the ground right now (i'm still a bit in shock about having that here myself to be honest) but it has been consuming me.

so on to the next bit. i have had a strange amalgamation of feelings with regard to the small children of this country. mostly, no i should say completely, i love them all. even the gross ones with snot bubbles. i mean, how could anyone not love them with such fervor? regardless (though for emily i will forever think 'irregardless' and hear her snarl in my head at the unwordness of it), i have had a new stab of emotions that displeases me and also makes me laugh at myself. these new emotions run the gambit of bitterness to envy. a particularly stirring and exemplary example happened today.

i was walking home, nimble as a cat with all nine lives and not a care, when i see this darling child RUNNING in the snow. now i'm bit chilly in my moderately inappropriate wear and feel a sting of jealously that she can be simply so round and carefree. basically round here means warm because it means you are wearing more clothes than can be put into words and sound believable. side note: once my counterpart told me that it was fine if she fell because she was wearing a fur coat and wouldn't be hurt because of said coat. while i laughed at the time i realized how true that is. the padding does make the fall much better, which is why i was always so hurt when i fell, not be wrapped in enough down for two beds and the accompanying thirty pillows. 

back to the story, she's running and i have the thought that i could probably run to. that was new. but her ability to fall and not care and her lack of fear of falling (these really are two different ideas. i promise. well, at least i think so anyway,) made me even more jealous. not in a serious way. this is how it always goes. i go from jealous of their careless freedom to wishing i was a little bit younger to enjoy those feelings again. and i end with that whole elderly nostalgia of youth. on a good day i laugh at the first mental white hairs of age (and hopefully wisdom) sprouting and rush home to check the advance of the lines on my face, which move as faithfully as an invading army. the problem is the bad days. envy rears its ugly head and i can only think of how wasteful all of that joy is. equal parts anger for wasting my own youth and annoyance that i can't smack the painful experience of about twenty years into them to make them see, well that never makes me very nice.

still. i feel like this is all very much fun and interesting. i'm at the point in my life where i CAN say nothing nice if i have nothing nice to say. except when i fail in my vows and drink to much, but no one's perfect. i can do things i don't want to. and i can imagine doing one thing (unspecified) for the rest of my life. its strange to grow up. and be both satisfied and horrified. i told Alan recently that i want tri-normal when i get back home. normal looks, normal past, normal life together. i'm so past the point of waiting and wishing for the love of my life to be this perfect...thing. i just want someone i can be happy with and he had the nerve to tell me i sound like an over forty divorcee giving in to time and culture. so rude. but maybe true. though later i thought about it and realized that someone so normal and not screwed up or horrible would be more strange and magical than a minotaur flying in on a unicorn to fly me back to america. so i suppose i've traded one impossible dream for another. but this one feels strangely more feasible.

let's see. what else. oh yes. also the fact that my mind no longer works makes me feel older. i've traded a faulty memory for a very attractive notebook filled with incomprehensible notes and doodles. 

ANYWAY. this little girl. she goes running around and stops in front of this snowman that looks like he's in prison behind a fence. she stands there for a minute when this strange man, looking drunk and homeless might i add, carrying a carton of kefir (think sour yogurt) is walking toward her. now this man could very easily be her father despite him looking about 70 and expired and her being a spry 4.5 year old. anyway, this scene brought about the first stirrings of my retired ovaries. BUT! this man in a car, 'driving' on snow, has the nerve to not stop upon seeing the girl and simply lays on his horn. well. standing in snow getting wetter and wetter my ovaries bursted into existence and screamed with a rage i haven't felt in a while. who was this terrible man and how dare he might even chance harming a single fiber of her protective tiger pelt? the child could have been hit at 70 mph and simply bounced away thanks to the protective prowess of winter clothing, but the...audacity of considering it. i was standing in shock and ready to go running though the snow drifts myself to save the darling in no need of saving. and this lil angel. she simply scurried out of the way and did something so cute and adult that is burned into my skull. completely unphased she simply grab her comically large knit hat and resettled it atop her head revealing her eyes which were covered in her hasty retreat. there's something so normal in this act that it took on the luster of a carefully crafted movie scene meant to fill a watcher with the pain of real life and its precious commonplace.

if you can't tell this is one of the good days. seeing the carefree kid made me happy for the kid and myself. i get to remember those feelings but i also can walk to the store and spend the money in my pocket on any candy i want without having anyone yell at me. there are benefits to everything, even getting older.

so in the end i came home, made some horrid roast beef and gravy from a can and washed it down with a sandwich made of cheese? green peas, eggs, strange sausage and KETCHUP! delicious. and then i watched eat, pray, love. thus my transformation into middle-aged cat lady divorcee became complete. and what do we crazy old people do when faced with stories about starting life after all seems lost? we digress and nostalge. yes, i made it a verb. i'm a teacher. i can do that.

the gap has been too long. i've missed reporting on my birthday, halloween, thanksgiving, and a trip to almaty. not even counting the smaller things, some of which are not so small. this is one of those posts to say, "I'm not dead. I'm still here." and that's about all sadly.i still don't have internet, but i am cat sitting in a house that has internet. so i'll be on and off available for the next month, if even more sniffly than usual.  hopefully, i'll update soon. though at this point i'd rather do a huge email. who knows?

should never be the subject of a classroom discussion. circumcision, strangely is on that list. as is the teacher's penis size. and the status of one's virginity. i know. are you as surprised as i am? who would ever be so delicate as to be offended and horrified by such LITE dinner convo? oh wait, ME. I'M THAT PERSON. IT'S NOT OK. NEVER. SO STOP ASKING. though dear reader, i know that YOU would never ask me these questions, i have several FEMALE students who haven't learned the finer aspects of being human beings. "but its SOOO interesting" is not a viable excuse for this kind of abuse. school has been crazy of late, and the worst part is that that fiasco isn't even the worst. one day my kazakh students all made some sort of pact and only spoke to me in a language i don't know. i responded how you might think i would: wrath and indignation. full on hissy fit. in my defense, the only kazakh i know is rude and this was being directed at me with no remorse, so the pop quiz was justified. then when it got really rude and out of control, i don't think i was too out of line to demand they all go home and think about how rude they were being. they didn't move an inch. which was fine. i didn't either. we sat there for the last 30 minutes of class. oh wait, i did. they were never upset and just started talking about life and making fun of me again after about 47 seconds of shifty eyes. now i feel guilty for losing my cool. but these kids know how little control i have. i can't write in their official journal and that makes me limper than a two day old dead fish. the few who know english love me and work, but so many of my students are too low leveled to take a class in english, and while i speak to them in russian, they have no desire to learn anything and that's why they don't know anything in the first place. c'est. la. vie. oh and to top off my guilt there's some shame too. OF COURSE, the worst week of teaching i've EVER had had to happen when i had trainees there to watch. two girls who are currently training to be new university PCVs were to watch this all. i told them they'd see what school was like, but i never expected it to get so raw, as britt might say. it was fun having new people. but completely exhausting as well. and expensive. i blew so much money and wish i didn't have to. was i going to be the one person saying 'bye guys, i'm going finish that loaf of bread i have at home, have fun learning about teaching students with 4 vols who DON'T work with students.' blarg. no. granted, sipra and becca also chalked up the cash. but i'm feeling pouty. my second sunday in a row was murdered. by not one, but two migraines. but i did get to talk to mah mama, so that revived me well enough. and i read a really good book with some interesting artwork.i'll finish talking about that wedding one day. also, i'm hysterically jealous that my bestest friend Laura adopted/saved a dog today. named him Oli. painfully cute.

remind me to never get a dog. i'd love it too much and have even more excuses to be a bum and stay at home.

oh and let me end on a positive note. the other night i went out to buy some samsa because i have been to lazy to cook and it was excruciatingly pleasant. i was swarmed with memories of county fairs (of which i think i have been to at least once...), autumnal evening walks, and wishing i could be hand-in-hand with someone i love. it's that crisp, lively date weather that i love so well. soft brown highlights in the air, whispery trees, and olden golden street lights. people fade into the background and life comes alive. walking is a gift and i had as much as i wanted. striding around in shorts and a hoodie, too dim to stand out, bringing home a bounty of chicken filled pastries and raisiny cinnamon rolls. who could ask for anything more in life that night i just had? they should be politely slapped across their doofy faces and told to enjoy what's good for em. seeing that MIGHT have made the night better, but i'm too happy to care about might have beens. 

blame it on the migraine, blame it on the changes, the time of day, the season, the something. i feel weird. and that always means a weirder than normal blog post.i'm finally not sick. i mean, i still hack from time to time, but that's fine. if i had not had a migraine today, this would have been a day i felt completely healthy, and i haven't had one of those in a while.  speaking of migraines, knocking on wood, throwing salt, and all that jazz, they seem to be getting better. shorter. less intense. i think i am brow beating my brain into stopping this silliness and letting me be a real human being. that being said, i did miss becca's house warming tonight, which was sad. oh! new places abound. i'm still at my old host family's. i've pretty securely decided to not move in with another family, even if they are beyond amazing. i'm in serious negotiations with a local friend to get an apartment together. and now we've potentially added a third mystery member. mysterious to you only i suppose. let me explain: we've got some new americans in town. two fullbright ETAs (English Teaching Assistants) have just landed in shymkent. so fullbright scholars are these super elite research scholars that travel abroad studying and researching and writing with the support of a HUGE stipend. jealous right... well, these two guys are part of their new program. they are surprising like PCVs who teach. they work with local teachers and teach english. but they do rake in the cash. so still jealous. anyway, Aaron and Amanda are now here for the next 10 months. they are hilarious and i'm really glad that they ended up here. with the 3-4 new people coming in about 2 months, shymkent will be simply bursting at the seems. anyway, aaron wants a roommate and we'll see how that works out.

school has been interesting. i've been teaching a whole lot of geography of kazakhstan. that's not so interesting on its own. fo sho. but my students always turn it into something else. i have some really amazing groups, and some which are less so. c'est la vie. i've been invited to all sorts of things lately: LAN parties, gym workout sessions, sambo lessons. all sorts of things. oh i also got back a lot of my clothes. while i have been gouged on the prices, it's still better than buying new clothes. mom, i'll finally wear those sweaters you sent! yay!speaking of sweaters, i have simply frozen to death. the other day it was 65 C and i couldn't stop chattering. i don't quite know what i'm going to do when the real winter comes. i need to start up my mantras, but in the reverse direction. i spent all summer telling myself how it would always be hotter tomorrow so today is fine. well, that worked great. but now if it dips below 70, i turn to ice. let's hope i can get over this asap. autumn is a switch that flips violently here. one day it was 100+, the next it rained, and the next day was the upper 70s. and for shymkent, that's cold. :P apparently it's snowed in kazakhstan, and that makes me a bit horrified. not gonna lie.

i went to my first wedding on friday. it was kind of amazing. one of my former students got married to her man of 6 years. they were 20 and 25, met when she was 14 and he was 19. i'm still in shock about that, but they are so cute together. so anyway, there are so many traditions and games and getting to be present at them was really cool. and special. we realized, sipra and i, that the things we got to see were all for family, but we had been graciously invited. first the man comes to his bride's home to find her. well, she's hidden inside. he's gotta call out to her and tell her how much he loves her. the female family members all keep the man away and run him through a series of tests to get to her. first is throwing darts at balloons. there is writing in each, one says love, the rest says a monetary amount. if he gets love, he moves on, if not he pays a ransom. the groom knows to bring a lot of cash. so next is standing on these huge hearts. each has a different task. first he danced, then he sang, then he recited a poem. moving along, he had to pick out her new family's childhood photos from a huge collage. he was really good at this. then he had to spell his loves name in money. though apparently in the villages this is done in some kind of grain. so my student's name is anne. or anya. or apparently anyuta. this last is a kind of pet name or cutesy version. this money is collected and added to the ransom. next he did something i was confused about. something about climbing stairs and choosing what acronyms meant. not sure... then he had to answer trivia about his future wife. the funniest by far was watching him wrap a baby doll up how russians keep their children. this results in the child wearing no less than three layers and being wrapped tighter than a hot burrito. anyway, he kept hitting its head on the table and turning it over on its face. it was horrifying and hilarious. then he gets to see his lady, but first he had to satisfy her brother. one glass with candy, one with soda, and one with money. oh i forgot. early he had to choose from three glasses and drink from them. one was salty, one bitter, and one sweet. he has to drink until he finds the sweet glass of love. anyway, then the first toasts of the day happen. crying parents and lots of herding into cars. then we headed to the church for the wedding. it was super informal, or at least seemed that way. there is no special set up in an orthodox church for the wedding like there is in america. there was a third altar set up where the service starts. lots of russian. BEAUTIFUL singing. oh man, i'm still in shock about that. rings are put on and taken off and exchanged between the newlyweds in the name of the father, son, and holy spirit at least three times, then finally settled on their correct finger. then lots of walking in circles and on to altar number two. this is the one with the crowns. now one of my other students, tanya, was essentially the maid of honor. there's one boy and one girl who help in the wedding and that's all. anyway, the best man and maid of honor have to hold a huge crown over the bride and groom's head for this 10-15 minute portion of the wedding. more singing. lots of arm sagging. oh, they can't touch the crown. they have to hold it with a cloth because its holy. more circles. this time with candy and coins thrown at the couple as they walk by. oh, i forgot. copious, massive amounts of bowing. and crossing. from everyone. i knew that orthodox people cross themselves alot, but... i had no idea really. anyway, third altar is the bride and groom kneeling and lots of really fast russian. pictures of jesus and mary with child jesus are prominently featured. more singing. more crossing. then just like that this part is done. the priest walks off to get his incense and bless the candles old ladies have been putting all around. pictures start. and go on. and on. and on. for about the next 4 hours. as i'm fatigued now. i'll continue my wedding post tomorrow or the next day. i need to sleep. my head just isn't right. sorry for the split blog. lame.. :D

my brain jus' broke. i mean really...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cYdTPoMkoho&feature=player_embeddedjust... just. aren't. words.

that being said, i kind of like it... oops.

school has started and i am glad that i have said no to all the extra classes. i have a group that is actively trying to murder me (i think, no proof so far). they are nuts. i'm about to give up and just give them papers to memorize and try and save my sanity and time for people who care. these girls got into a fist fight the first day. they swear at me and at each other. i mean, i'm basically a feel-good inner city educator movie circa 1996. except we all dress better. and i am a touch jaded. to be honest, i have two, no three, students out of the 16 who i adore and will continue to work with. i just still feel guilty compartmentalizing. i have an AMAZING class too. they are strange, mostly because they are so advanced. and chatty and engaged. i don't want to make it sound like students here are bad, but i've never seen or even heard of a FULL class of 17 students where EVERY student is awesome. i'm gonna ride the waves of luck as long as possible. huge conundrum people. i need some help. i have been offered a room in an apartment with a family. no biggie. right? uh, did i say apartment? i meant PALACE. the three kids all speak english and the parents speak Uzbek and Russian. the kids only speak to locals in russian so they have perfect russian also. two full kitchens. told me to eat with them or cook for myself if i want. did i mention how much i LOVE LOVE LOVE uzbek food? yeah. I DO. oh and when i asked how much it would cost, i got laughed at. FREE. FREE. this is almost too good to be true. the man is a wealthy philanthropist. super connected in Shymkent. and kind to boot. the girls are sweet and seem fun. the mom is pregnant so soon enough there will be a baby and you people should know how i am about babies. the worst part of having a baby in the house is that i will have to fight to NOT steal it every day. true statement. as for the downside, i do like my family here. it's crazy, disfunctional, and completely comfortable. i'd have to tell them that i'm leaving, which is hard for me. i was also told i would be living alone in an apartment, which was a bit of a mistake(, but as an additional plus i HATE living alone). what if they are crazy or something happens???? i mean, this is known. this is easy(ish). i dunno. i've got about a week to think about it. drat my sense of money and saving and freedom and ... i'm sure there's something else in there.

now, let's have a moment to get Meta-Meta, shall we? i recently spoke to my mom. she made a funny comment: "your blog isn't like the other volunteers. it's so crazy [...] it's more like a diary." i've had one or two volunteers tell me that my blog is interesting or funny or different, and i'm ok, no i'm happy about that. if i remember correctly, which of course i do, i said in my first or second blog post that this blog is more for me than anyone who might read it. the vomit of consciousness is something fundamental to my sanity. i feel like its rather honest too. so i hope that no one is upset by the fact that i get upset and happy and everything else and i tell you about it. yes sometimes i talk about how much (not recently THANKFULLY) or how little (new issues... don't get me started) i poop. sometimes i have bad days. sometimes i have amazing, amazing days. maybe i should remember to write about those more often. i like to think that i am a storyteller and sadly my flair and expertise from dramas lies in tragedy. maybe that's why i talk about crap more, i can spin into something better. i DID talk about how much i love the bathrooms here, and you know how much i love the bathroom. for me to compliment there here, that's big for me. ugh. just thinking about writing about how moving seeing this small child playing in a perfect beam of sunlight creating the saccharine sweat scene from what Precious Moments aspires to be, it makes me want to barf. so trite. so over the top. i'm much more comfortable about telling you how my migraines have migrated to a night time schedule where i don't have to deal with them any more, just the nasty day after hang over. or maybe i've just been reading too much Neil Gaiman. totally possible. i mean i think i just stole one of his short stories on accident and wrote about it. while there may be no brides or toasters or quills, i must admit to feeling some guilt.... oops.

SO... i now have Robyn's Body Talk Part2, so i'm busy now.

which was so delicious! i never thought i would get to the point where borscht was a comfort food. but it is. i will be making it when i go home. can't wait. (and now we'll return to our regularly scheduled blogging) so i don't actively have the internet at the moment, notepad it shall be. this is probably going to be an epically massive post. i have a lot to write about and my main concern will be that i leave out at least half of all i want to say. school has started again. this one is gonna be interesting. i am teaching WAY too many classes, but i have no choice in this. my counterpart, Nuriya Obdrakmanova, is working for peace corps and to get my school to agree to let her go, i had to pick up ALL of her classes. so i am teaching 9 classes of 2nd course Geography of Kazakhstan and 3 classes of 3rd course Geography of Kazakhstan. one of my fellow teachers thankfully accepted the Business English classes i should be teaching because i might die if i had to plan and teach any more. the university still is under the impression that even though i am already over my number of hours, i should still come and teach three classes of Advanced Reading. i'm being councelled/brow-beaten by my site mates to say no to this. i am torn because in November my counterpart will come back and my load theoretically should lighten. so i feel guilty not just doing everything EVER right now. knowing how life here is though i won't get a lighter load somehow. AND. AND. how could i forget? there are all the english clubs that should be held every week. i'm supposed to help run those. AND some sort of teacher's club. and a professional training club. and work with the organization that i have been working with for the past year. i mean, come on. at some point i need time to think and breathe. YES, i did have a summer off. at least August. i very, very deliberately hid. i mean, i turned my phone off. i didn't reply or even open emails. because i KNEW. i KNEW! that the minute they got me i was theirs. i'm like expert prey specially evolved to avoid my thousands of predators waiting to pounce. but now that's all over. just to give you an example and make me sound less crappy, i went to a meeting. i finally answered my phone. just come in and let's make some plans. ok. sure. that turned into me editting a text book, and completing several reports in addition to simply making a plan. and i have teachers now asking me when and where my club is because THEY are being forced to attend. all i can do is politely ask, to which club are you referring. but that's the past. summer is over. i am back at work and i am not shirking any responsibilities no matter how much i want to.another thing that ended with the summer is/was my blondeness. sad times. i liked it. i'd gotten really used to it. even though britt started calling me Yin and Yang (i let the beard get a little out of control cause i was lazy, i'll admit it), we all had gotten used to it and it was nice. my hair was never hot, dark hair gets super hot in the sun!!!! so i go to several stores and ask for hair dye, in what literally ends up as me asking for chocolate color... well, i find some nice brown. darkish. my natural colorish. well, being VERY blonde meant that the color turned into GINGER CHILD RED!!! omg i was such a red head for like two days. it was sad. it was scary. it was horrifying. it was SO MUCH WORSE and UNNATURAL than the blonde. now its more muted and i'm just a horrid ginger child in certain light. i can live with it. in other news, i also got a hair cut right before i did all this dying. dyeing? whatever. i have never had a 'bad' haircut in this country. so i shouldn't complain. but i have NEVER had a haircut i wanted. i have no hair left, it's a super high and tight. though everyone tells me how much better i look. so thanks people, for telling me that my preferences are horrid and i look better when i have no say over my looks... thanks. in other other news, we've had people coming through like woah. it's been fun. meeting people crazy enough to travel through this part of the world. apparently there will be some academics doing research here for a while so that's fun. new vols are going to be here SO soon. it's crazy. and upon reflection of the date, so is my birthday. i don't really want to get older here. it makes me feel like i'm not progressing in my real life. whatever that means. its like i'm taking a two year nap where i dream of working too much and not understanding a lot of whats going on around me. then i wake up all rip van winkly and realize that i now two years behind in the rat race. yay... but that's just when i'm moody. i like being here. as my host mother and i talked about today. its a good experience doing this. quick update on my students. i have some awesome new students and groups. which is exciting. they speak english. they are motivated. and i am glad that they didn't leave shymkent to go to almaty or astana to study. i have students i am less excited about but that is the nature of being a teacher. one of my new girls, lera (pronounced more like lyera), has a boyfriend who does sambo. which is the russian national military martial art, or something to that effect. i may get to start doing sambo soon! i can go to school looking like a tired ol beat up hobo everyday! can't wait! even better, my girls told me i was far too skinny to really do sambo. can i ask for a better day... oh wait. that's right. i almost had a fist fight in one of my classes (a class of ONLY girls) and i got chewed out several times in russian because NO ONE... literally no one, not just me... can keep up with all the schedule changes. i was told i 'missed' a class that i was not scheduled to teach. fun times. hopefully the schedule will get sorted out in the next two weeks and life will not be so scary and tentative. random news: i am having 90% of my wardrobe tailored so that i can wear my own clothes. saving me probably 80-90% of the expensive of buying all new clothes. yay!i still love bathrooms here, even if they don't have S pipes and always vaguely smell like old eggs, because they are magical portals into spying on other people. no matter the time of night i can hear at least two people having some sort of random conversation or music or something so strange it can't be described in words. awesome. i finally formally got introduced to my local ladies at the little shop i always go to. they are so nice!!!i was offered a potentially free apartment to live in, which complicates my life terribly. we shall see what goes down. i have two prospective russian teachers, and have yet to do any more russian learning. august was a bust. BUT, i did start translating the little mermaid. don't ask...i'm not really worried about teaching at all, which is nice, because even though i feel completely competent and fine in the classroom i used to worry a lot. hopefully my subtle hint of 'invite me over to your house' will get me invited to my students houses so i can experience a kazakh 'konak' which is something like 'a visit' or 'being a guest and being forced to eat enough food for 7 people and drinking a sea of tea.' can't wait. the more i read other PCVs blogs, the more i realize that i have a very different, and i might say strange, experience. i don't live in a land of retro music that won't die. all i hear RIGHT NOW, as in blaring from next door, is Rihanna and Eminem. i don't watch and rewatch old movies from the 90s. my students are more fashion forward and in-tune with trends (at least European trends) than i am. in a desperate, and successful, attempt to keep my sanity i have been reading like a fiend. i have read no less than 2 books this month already and read something like 5 books in the past three weeks. and i am going to finish another tonight. i am beside myself with the thought of glee coming out soon.i have begun looking at tickets to beijing and/or seoul for my holiday i plan on taking next summer.i had the geekiest moment a few days ago where i could not put down the math flash cards for the GRE. i felt so AMAZING while i was burning the cobwebs away with little mental fire i have left to muster to solve inane geometry problems. i got to catch up with jessy and rail about all things conservative. very fun.and i'm sure i did like a million other things, but i can't remember any more now. though school has started so i should blog more regularly. let's hope so!

it's been an interesting few days. i've been watching Total Drama Island, a really intense cartoon reality show a la Survivor, with my sister. we're down to two characters left!!!i've been NOT sick, which is a nice change. however today i ate ramen noodles and my stuff ain't quite right, but i'll live. my two mamas had their birthdays (sorry i never got to call you lynn!!!!!). shout out to all the baby mamas! love you!my host mother here has been gone to Almaty for the last few days. she got back today. i pretty much starved like a small child. haha. not really. my sister kept going to the store and buying samsa which are meat filled pastry things. i also ate a lot of prepackaged dumplings called pilmeni. which is deplorable. i ate like a sad bachelor. haha. i DID make an interesting 'international' spaghetti. it had curry and cumin and some italian spices. from scratch. did i mention the scratch part? while very, very delicious, it's a pain in my ass to de-seed several pounds of tomatoes... this guy, david, is travelling through kazakhstan and we've been showing him around the city. he's from germany. i feel so VERY international here, you can go ahead and be jealous.(can you tell i'm in a special mood? haha)

i've very literally been hiding from work for weeks and i had almost forgotten why. i had a simple meeting, that turned into... very many things. i edited a biology book for school kids today. that's not quite my job but it IS my life. i've also had several additional meetings. and phone calls. and text messages. and emails. this basically sums up as the following: YOU CAN HIDE NO MORE! ...this makes me cry.

i also met the fabled mid-20 something kazakh male... it has been an interesting experience. so i've known this english teacher Marat for a while now. we met several months ago when i gave a lecture about using critical thinking at his university. well he invited me to pizza to meet with his friends and fellow teachers. WELLLLLL, that turned into a cultural exchange i never expected to have.  **SPOILER ALERT: this in no way is a judgement. and it will sound a bit stereotypical but it's not EVERY person here. but it IS something that comes up often. i just want to tell you about it. to me its more funny than anything else, but don't think poorly about people who live in a very different culture from your own.  END SPOILER** i now know EVERYTHING EVER about prostitutes here. OMG. there is SO much to know... i had no idea. it has been a long, long time since i've spent time with open people my own age and demographic (though there are some missing elements obvs). though a lot of the volunteers are my age, i am a bit older. these guys are a lil older than me. they are also boys... and let's be honest, all my regular associates are girls. volunteers: girls. students: girls. so these guys were very vocal and i am very curious so i let rip. and i know a lot of hilarious stories now. and strange, at least to me, ....procedures? it was nice to just hear some hilarious raunch. and i got to learn a lot. and i did my job as a PCV. i asked a lot of questions, a lot of leading questions, and they seemed to stop and consider them. i got a lot of confused looks and some thoughtful ones, so i feel like i did my part.

so, life is life. it's going. new vols are here training. i am now aiming to do trainings for them in october. this should be fun. let's hope i get it. school starts on the first, wish my luck. i may die from working again. haha. cause it's non-stop. the new missy elliot discography and the Dream's new cd should help me though. so it's not all sad face clouds. I AM A MASTER OF THE SILVER LINING.... yeah, that.

so sick i shit myself twice today in public. can't eat. can't really think at the moment. i want to get better. last time i felt this bad i just loafed around loosing a pound a day until i was threatened to be sent home. being a swarthy 150, i don't have room to eff aound. i need to turn off the internal coffee maker, eat something solid and keep it in my system for more than 3 minutes, which is my current record.

ugh. pukey. shitty. passy outty. i'm too sexy for words right now. at least my ass is pristinely clean. even if i almost passed out to finish the deed.

wish me luck. ugh...

today i managed to grate a rather prodigious chunk of my finger off. with a cheese grater. while grating carrots. yeah. i was less than pleased. for how squikky i can get when it comes to hand wounds, i always do rather well. there's the initial clutch and 'no! don't look! oh god i'm gonna die!' but that passes rather quick and rushes headlong into the poke/prod/rip phase. becca gave me a band-aid and i was back grating carrots, though with a pit of horror residing deep in my chest.

today was becca's birthday party, which explains all the food making. which i haven't mentioned yet... cole slaw (plus essence de philippe), two kinds of brownies, pasta salad, black bean sauce eggplant, potato salad. we bought shashlik at the aquapark (the venue). for those of you who've forgotten, shashlik is basically barbeque shish-kabobs. the aquapark in aksukent is interesting. its cosier than delphine (our park here in shymkent) but undoubtedly much less clean, the chlorine doesn't knock you over and it was much more crowded with lil chilruns.

the emotions are all up and down. though we're drifting steadily upward. which is good. i have plenty of shit being carefully aimed at the fan. this will of course go down in about 22 days when school starts again. until then i have a package i'm dribbling out to make it last, more hygiene than ever before in Kstan (four days in a row with real showers, i know! who am i?), and plenty of time to pretend i can guilt free play computer games.

also, update on miraculous events of note: the pseudo-fail of melted reese's has be counter-balanced by a finding so complete and epic that it will forever change at least one aspect of my life. how i eat butterfingers. i'd avoided opening the package because it was all shrink-wrapped and sad looking. this was apparently caused by the extreme cold to which i had exposed it, when i opened it and opened the closed system, it all sprang back to life. now let me say. where the reese's were all leaky and grossy, the individual wrapping and sealing of the Bfingers was perfect. each melted a bit but maintained its general shape. the freezing process however enacted changes beyond my feeble imagination. opening these bitches is a dream. no matter HOW one wants to get it out, it happens. the chocolate frozen rock hard sticks in no way to the glossy paper. the melting and freezing also somehow spares the Bfinger from its usual crumbly fate. no more opening a smashed, messy pile of what once was a perfect Bfinger. then there is the delight of snapping into a frozen center. the taste is even better. it is akin to ... probably eating forbidden fruit. gratifying in its sinful ease. i'm having trouble (though success) in not devouring them all instantly. the horror of going through all the reese's, which i will inevitably do, is keeping my normal gluttonous attitudes in check. just wanted to say, OMG MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! thank you for the butterfingers, never send me anything else!!!!!! :D <3

there have been a few things of note these past few days.

firstly (:P) i managed to contract a very nasty virus... on my computer. (i'm fine in the bathroom, thanks for the concern though.) it ate both my netbook and my host family's pc. it's been a fun few days of scanning and resetting and reading and not being able to read russian. that being said, we are on the cutting edge of a winning war and i think that i have gotten the answers/programs/solutions i needed (thanks emily!!). two year old viruses are nothing to play with. old and virile. how rude.

second, i got my package! it was awesome. i'm gonna be all fresh and clean real soon. one thing to note. i will only be asking for candy during the winter months from now on. it was very, very sad to get a package full of completely melted candies. even if it flew here without melting on the plane. sitting in a hot ass kazakh post office for a week with no air conditioning will melt the hardiest of things, which reese's are not. a few of the reese's mostly melted and oozed into the closed bag and covered everything with a layer of wax and chocolate. that being said, i am still very slowly eating them. it's a messy process and rather difficult. the chocolate has somehow swallowed the wrappers on top and the wax on the inner paper has melted and re-solidified in various places. (i forgot to mention, i tried to salvage them by putting them in the freezer. it worked, but the long term consequences are still unknown.) i am covered in wax, chocolate, and sweat after i spend the required time peeling foil off/out of the chocolate.  the freezing part has made it great though once i've done the dirty work. even though it's all weird shaped and unwieldy, the glory that is wax paper comes right off of the misshapen mass of what once was a perfect reese's when frozen. everything else in the package has been great. i did find out that NO ONE likes liquorice. my host mother and sister both spit them out after eating that jelly belly. my host mother is now suspicious of all non-chocolate american candy. haha.

and kind of lastly, i have become ridiculously homesick. a few nights ago i had the saddest dream. it was really nice, but now it just makes me more homesick. very simply put, for some reason i was at our old house on Bromley Rowe and my mother came home in some manner of car. she walked around the back of the car from the passenger side and just smiled at me. i did one of those dramatic movie walk ups and just grabbed her. i felt very tall and she felt especially comforting. i just hugged her. and hugged her. and couldn't let go. everytime i went to let go in my dream i just wanted to cry and couldn't let go. finally she just laughed at me and told me something that i can't remember. but it made me let go. and with that i woke up. distressed and missing my mom. thankfully it was an incredibly vivid and lifelike dream so i can just pretend it was real. i haven't seen my mother in person for well over a year and that is slowly taking its toll on me. mom, i miss you very much. 

so heartbroken, aching, and eaten alive i drag myself onward. nothing new and strangely comforting, life goes. i ain't gonna stop and neither is the world. давайте сукы.

it could be worse i suppose. it always could. but i am in such a foul effing mood.

these past few days have been fun. or not at all. they actually have. but my mood of doom has really soured everything. the best bit is that i have managed to lose like 6 more pounds. dropping me down to a svelte 150! go me.

this is the start of my month of russian. hopefully its as hardcore as i want it to be. my counterpart rightfully calling me lazy will hopefully shame my inactivity away.

more late.

if you're an avid follower of my hot blog action, which the three of you reading probably are, then you know that i was gone last week for a summer camp and not just lazy. the camp is over and my first reaction is THANK GOD I'M HOME!!!!!!!!!!!! this was striking because i really do think of Shymkent as my home. for now. i think that i'm lucky that i can make just about any place my home. i can settle at the drop of a hat. helps me out to say the least. this house, this city, even this country. it's where i am and where i'm home. being invited up north makes me nervous. i'm a southerner through and through, here in Kstan and there in America, and i know its very different up there. this is where i am now. this is what i know.

the camp: 8 days of... too much. too much fun. too many people. too many photos. too much good food. too much kazakh language. too much responsibility. too many people in a tiny ass apartment. now, i would not really trade this last week for a week in shymkent, but man. it takes it out of you. i was roped (ie i volunteered, happily) to not teach students and instead run admin for the camp. i'm glad i did. i hope it helped. though i'm sure i didn't make a lot of friends. i knew how important a flawless (as flawless as possible) camp was for both the volunteers and their community. as such i took it seriously, though i take things i am in charge of seriously. it's a flaw and something people wouldn't suspect of me. as such i came down kind of hard, pretty much the whole time. a lot of the volunteers were very... relaxed... which is fine until it keeps things from running as they should. c'est la vie. in the end, the kids LOVED it (i think), the directors and school board officials were pleased, and we only had the community call and complain once. so raging success! i was in the town of Zhanatas which is extremely strange. it used to have 75000 people in it and now it has abound 7000. which is small village sized. the buildings have been ransacked and 'bombed out.' it's a site to see. i enjoyed me time there. it was full of surprises, like the COMPLETELY fluent locals sitting around in a tiny private home cafe, and i got to see people i haven't seen in ages. the ride there wasn't bad, but driving between literal mountains of debris from the old mines was interesting. Laura, the volunteer whom i love too much and person who invited me to the camp, told me horror stories. a three hour ride consisting of solely pit holes and offroading, a town of horror, explosions, and roving death. these were both a bit exaggerated. but they made for some interesting speculation.

anyway. i'm back in town. my counterpart is working for PC as a language trainer and as such will be in Almaty for the next three? months. i will taking over her classes for her. geography of kazakhstan. i know, it's basically my most special speci-al-ity. i'm excited to have real hardcore classes though. should be a nice change of pace. i'm sad to be without her and her support but it will give me an interesting opportunity to teach in a way i haven't got to up til now.

my personal life is still as ...provocative. i am trying to focus and make decisions, or at least put coherent thoughts together. no success so far, but i'm working on it. i've found several new bands that are making life more than worth living and i have a new ipod, even if i don't have it mine own hot lil hands. just nice to know that i own it and it's rather close to my person. 

picture update soon. i promise. sorry <3

so i've done a lot of begging and pleading with anyone who will listen. anyone up there. (this ain't quite god's country, but i'm flexible) and today my prayers were answered. be prepared for an overshare: i had the closest thing to a normal shit i've had in recent memory. i mean, there were angels singing and fanfare i'm pretty sure a halo appeared around my head. it was that godly. 

as such. baby jesus has promptly reminded me that miracles are finite. today i went to go buy some shorts. and i found some i liked and looked on with skepticism at the XL shorts in front of me. upon trying them on, i found them to be both skin tight and about 4 inches too small around the waste. that was an epic fail. and resulted in walking back home again in the 90-something degree weather. not happy. then as i was walking home i saw this young girl who i may have vaguely recognized. the thing is that this girl saw me and looked horrified as she put a piece of paper over her face until she walked past me. that was weird. then i apparently ruined a wedding tradition here. or at least that's what the death stares of all the old women were screaming at me as i walked by. the bride was going to someone's house with the veil over her face and everything. she was in full traditional garb and i just walked up on them going home. oops. oh well. more death stares never killed anyone right? the woman i see everyday at the magazine is very worried for my health and proceeded to tell me how i need to eat other foods as ramen isn't good for me. i know. but i'm upset about being fat so just sell me the ramen, fanta, and ice cream, ok?? i still love her and her beautiful hair. i'm gonna take a photo with her one day! totally a win...

got a hair cut too. i have this white blonde to dark brown fade going on. its kind of hot. :Pi can hear my mother sighing and saying 'oooooh god' as i type this. :D

can't wait to see what happens tonight. these next fews should be jam packed and we'll see which wins out in the end. epic victories or epic fails. hopefully i hadn't gotten to used to winning and functioning that i need a karmic bitch slap. here's to hoping! (raise dem Fantas!)

<3 Phillip

so i've heard that my english hasn't been so great since coming to kazakhstan. that's inevitable. i spend most of my days thinking how to say things in the simplest way. and on top of that in a format that might make sense to a native russian speaker. as such, my english is that of a bilingual 3 year old, ie not so hot. the second part of this is that my blog is probably more for me than for you (the dear reader). i'm a talker as we all know and this is a way for me to work through things. also it makes me feel better that i am not being negligent of my filial responsibilities of at least pretending to communicate. and some of it purposefully written to be oblique or coded for alan. some of it is also generation/cultural and i can't fix that.

so. today was interesting and as always it just keeps getting better. i made lasagna part deux today. omg yummy! it was probably better than the first time. half meat. twice the eggplant. GOUDA cheese AND mozzarella!!! OMG CHEESE! haha. anyway, russians EFFin love lasagna. as they should. and they love me for showing it to them. which is fun. it took us forever but i'd say was a pretty successful and beloved summer camp activity.

because this has been brought to my attention right now in a concurrent conversation, i REALLY REALLY REALLY miss ham. REALLY. i knew i loved ham before. but, now i know how close to true love i was. volunteers up north live with russians or kazakhs even more likely to backslide into a bit of non-kosher eating. but not really here. some of my friends and colleagues eat ham. but most do not. which is strange to me. its SO yummy. regardless, living in a rather muslim city means little to no ham available. this is sad. i will be consuming copious amounts of ham upon returning to america.

so today i had a lot happen. i was identified, correctly, as an american which shot a kid straight out of his pallet on the floor the shop i was in. its kind of flattering? strange? to get that kind of reaction. this was pretty much immediately negated by my final leg of the walk home. i was not more than 20 meters from my door where these kids, probably four 16 year old kazakh boys (maximum of 24... sometimes it's really hard to tell here), were loading a moving van (random old truck with a tarp on top) with pillows and sheets and things. they all turned to me and one kid started laughing. like really, really hateful laughter. like the kind i grew up with. the kind that fills me with rage, shame, and nostalgia. so i keep walking and as i walk past the last kid this cacophony of wicked glee. you'll all be proud to know that i just kept on walking. i did think some rather hateful things, half formed and nondescript, but i generally stick with "i'm leaving in a year and you WILL ALWAYS BE HERE." that satisfies me most of the time. it is really sobering to have to do the walk of shame the last 30 seconds of your walk home for no reason though.

so tomorrow night Holly and Anna get here. that'll be good to see new people. and then on friday i leave for zhanatas! woot. soviet-style ghost towns full of bomb blasted buildings. so there was no apocalypse there sadly, but a lot of looting and scrap searching so it looks bunk, from what i hear. and i get to see some great friends i haven't in a while. downside: no internet or anything approaching civilization for a while. a gathering of PCVs often is the bacchanal of affairs and in no way constitutes civilized life. yay!

i know i'm forgetting more. but that's what you get! love it! read my GRE words and tremble. or not... god i need to start studying for that too. waaaah! :P 

it has been a delicious (and sometimes not so much) extravaganza here.  i have neglected to talk about it, mostly because i have neglected everything this week.  the crazy camp week is over. pictures to follow later. before this camp i had been over at Britt's waaaay too much, but it's ok because i was cookin' mah lil heart out fer her. we made delicious teriyaki stir fry all from scratch. i made chicken philly sandwiches. we did a breakfast for dinner complete with white gravy from a can (from America). i baked her a chocolate cake for her birfday. we had fourth of july hamburgers, hot dogs, cole slaw, baked beans (delicious fiasco... the pan is still EFFd up), and potato salad. we made something between a burrito, chimichanga, and enchilada on the actual birthday. it was all pretty much amazing. some of it was really cheap to make also. huge plus. tonight i prepped the first half of homemade lasagna. i'm excited. we're gonna see how the rest of it ends up tomorrow. i am pretty confident in this one though.

in not so fun news, this week was pretty killer. because i was in a position of pseudo power that only caused me stress because i had no actual power. i am a leader OR follower. i am not so good in the middle. needless to say, i had my second migraine today. which was rather sad. i missed the closing ceremony. i was busy trying to alternately puke and not puke during it though. my migraines have gotten wonky again. now i just have mind numbing pain after being blind for an hour. then intense feelings of nauseousness for a while. then a hangover. this all used to be crammed into an 8 hour orgy of intense suck. sipra went to the ceremony and said i was asked after. which is sweet. and kind of sad, but i was dying and don't regret not suffering through all of that.

plans for next week: cooking. cooking. cooking. sleeping. actually learning russian. buying a computer game to reward myself and hinder learning russian. prepping for my NEXT summer camp. uploading photos. emailing people. blogging more. etc

also mom, we should skype on my sunday night. ie in like 10 hours. soon!!! <3

I went to a 'graduation party' thrown by my college/university today.it was crazy. there was smoke. there were lazers. there was excessive noise. there was at least one students present with epilepsy. yeah. really. i was concerned the whole time even though the student was fine and unconcerned. oh man.

we made tacos before said "rave." that's the only word for it. they were delish. i have been sleeping SO much lately, but its understandable considering the hours i have to keep when working these summer camps. blarg. i sleep super late and enjoyed it.

also of note: when "Gettin' Jiggy with It" came on, i was literally the only person who knew it had a dance to go along. so i promptly taught my students. go us. mwahaha 

Reading about grad school while sleep deprived is just insane.  Fitting for this week.I've been home alone for days now, which is strange. Glad my host mom is coming back tomorrow.This is one of the reasons I am pretty sure I'm going to be staying here for a good long while.

This week has been logistic insanity. I wish i was developing a useful, new skill set.All I'm managing is to break my brain into 3rd grade level English and working around people I'd rather not. Useful in life? Partly.  For grad school? Absolutely not.

I REALLY want some waxed floss. Dammit!!! Is that so outrageous?

On the upside, I am officially F-ing blonde.  Britt called me a Norwegian Go-Go Dancer.  Check it on Facebook. Also, Leah and I made a most delicious chocolate cake for Britt's birthday. Yay.

Let's just all get motivated ok?  Let's just all do what needs to be done?  That just really means yell and fuss at me. Make me do what I need to.  Learn Russian.  Study and take the GRE.  Don't live like I'm made of fail.  Work out!

It's been a long day toward the end of a long week; forgive the melodrama.  Or blame the bleach :D

today was a crazy day. they all are though. the summer camp i will be helping with next week seems to be coming together... finally.

i have decided that no one, NO ONE, should wear white pants. just fyi.

i'm been taking with these wild hairs of late. i am making silly requests/demands, telling people strange, strange thing, or writing delirious prose. it's funny and rather fun. but not the best show of my mental health. which is good. despite it all. i'm nostalgic but content. melodramatic but not sad. all in all a mental state i love to linger in.

i can't remember if i spoke of the dream i had a few days ago or not. i had this fight with certain personages that ended in me immediately leaving the country of my own free choice. it was a very intense dream (and all too plausible). i woke up thinking i was leaving. i was so confused to wake up in my room here. now i vaguely remember writing something to someone about it. who knows.

IRregardless, i am going nowhere.

i have been appointed photographer, which was really, really exciting. i miss art. a lot. and i think i will spend some of my time off from work trekking about and taking photos.

haedline of yesterday: i got seriously poked in the head by an angry, low branch. much pouting ensued.

here's testing a new way to blog. let's hope it works!

it's frustrating that i can't just easily blog. it makes me making people, ie my mother, happy harder. and we've all learned that i don't like hard.

things have been interesting. i have been sick for about a week. after i got back from my teaching seminar. which was amazing. the teachers were great, had a good time.

but upon returning with a nasty cold, i haven't felt so hot. and then i went to the water park. and can i just say that it is EXACTLY like america even if everyone swims in their underwear and weighs 12 pounds. maybe we run in different circles? the water park... there was 15 year old american radio fodder playing, no outside food allowed in, the smell of sunscreen (on me and the other americans), and a HUGE pool painted so blue it made the sky embarassed. also, it's completely foreign. it's the cool spot for everyone not from Kstan to hang apparently.

but i did burn myself in a few stupid places. like in an exact circle on the back of both knee caps. in STRIPES on my arms. alternating of course with my natural whiteness. i was a peppermint for a few days. now i am tanned-ish and only dealing with a cold. that day of sun stroke (if i'm feeling dramatic), sun burn, and cold. not happy.

then i had a dream i got into a huge fight and left the country. i went home. i woke up waiting to get on my plane. not what i wanted to feel really. because i don't want to go home. still can't shake the dream feeling, but i'm not any closer to coming home than i was in August.

also, many other things happy. which i am both pleased with and grateful for. more blogging later. with pictures. dammit!

also, thanks to andrea wortel for remembering i exist. i still love you very much. and i can't wait to share scars.

x2, i think i will be blonde in the next few days. followed by violently blue. because... because it needs to be.

today had too many highlights, with one pronounced lowlight.

i saw George Bush in a Kazakh hat (actually a Kazakh man)

i was pointed at from 30ft to show a baby what a foreigner was

i was seriously prodded on the bus

i gave a ton of 5s (As) on an exam (strange i know)

i bought train tickets

i saw Alejandro for the first time (o.0)

i made quesadillas

i wore a shmexy new shirt

i DIDN'T download the new glee episode

yes, tragic i know. but today was fun. HOT. man, hot. and tomorrow will be 99. still mild as far as summer goes here. i will be going to Almaty tomorrow for my medical check on Friday. then i will come back to Shymkent on Sunday, maybe go to the local water part (which apparently is like America?), and then head to Aksukent for a weeklong camp. Woot. Also, i have been choosing the writings of Emily Keszler over those of Phillip K. Dick. i think it says something

i just finished one of the worst books. evar.

the first two reviewers are nuts, the books is so NOT scary. the third hits it on the head, though the bits of raunch and language were my highlights. but that's me.

today i went out of my way, in spite of other 'classes,' to the university where i had a "consultation" with my students. oh wait. none of them showed up. i will be merciless and downright gleefully horrid to them when they all fail my easy exam. no i won't. but my inner monologue will be.(baby rant: self-edited. i often think i won't ever teach again, but realize sometimes that every situation is different, so we'll see where i end up...that was a lot more hateful before. good job me!)

in hot and sexy news, i bought several new shirts and a vest! it's far from what i wanted, but i will take what i can get. we shall see what becomes of this. (pictures to follow, i think)

i got to see my Liza! long inside joke. filters down to the girl i am secretly (not at all) obsessed with. i'm sad she's still sick, but glad that i get to see her. and hear gossip. which she seems to know more of than i do. boo on not spying in three languages.

i am so excited to see britt, who is back from turkey. i can't wait to hear all about it. today hasn't seemed to happen yet, but i know another chance to post won't happen.

also, giant, geriatric peepaw glasses are too sexy for people here. they take out there shame by pointing and laughing. inside the space capsule that is my glasses, i couldn't care less. awesome

IN TRIBUTE TO KANYE, FOR ABSOLUTELY NO REASON, THIS WILL BE A POST IN THE KEY OF KANYE. MAYBE THE DRAMATIC STYLE WILL HELP ME COME DOWN FROM THE CRAZY CLIFF I'VE BEEN TEETERING ON. I HAVE BEEN INCREASINGLY MELODRAMATIC OF LATE. ABOUT ANYTHING. IT'S KIND OF TERRIBLE, HILARIOUS, AND OFTEN RIDICULOUS. I DO STILL FEEL LIKE A NON-ENTITY SOMEHOW NOT EXISTING IN AMERICA OR KAZAKHSTAN, BUT I AM WORKING ON IT. HAVING STUDENTS NEED ME REALLY HELPS. MAKES ME FEEL USEFUL AND EXISTENT.

I HAVE A LIST OF PEOPLE I WANT TO TALK TO, BUT THE PROBLEM IS THAT I WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THERE LIVES. ONE, THIS IS A PROBLEM BECAUSE WE ALL KNOW HOW I TALK TOO DAMN MUCH. AND TWO, PEOPLE THINK THEIR OWN LIVES ARE BORING AND THAT I MUST SOMEHOW BE DOING SOMETHING AMAZING OR AT LEAST MORE INTERESTING BECAUSE I AM ACROSS THE WORLD. WRONG!!! IT'S THE SAME THINGS WITH A DIFFERENT BEAT. ISH. I JUST WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THINGS THAT I CAN RELATE TO. CULTURALLY. PERSONALLY. IN SOME WAY THAT I CAN'T ALWAYS DO HERE. HARD TO PUT MY FINGER ON. I KNOW THAT AMERICA IS STILL MOVING ALONG, I CAN SEE THE NEWS FROM TIME TO TIME. BUT MY AMERICA, MY ASSOCIATES, MY PERSONAL CONNECTIONS ARE, IN GENERAL, A MYSTERY TO ME. AND THAT JUST AIN'T CUTTIN' IT. YOU KNOW HOW I BE. ALL NOSEY AND SHI'.

TAK. I WILL MAKE A RETURN TO ALL THAT WAS GOOD AND HOLY ABOUT MY BLOG BEFORE IT WAS... EDITTING IN PROGRESS... MYSTERIOUSLY AND COMPLETELY INNOCENTLY ABSENT FOR A WHILE. NOW THAT ACCESS IS BACK I WANT TO RETURN TO MY DAILY RANDOM STORY. THE BEST THING ABOUT ME IS(ARE? OMG!) MY STORIES. (NIGHTMARE FOR AN INEPT ENGLISH TEACHER. THAT IS A SINGULAR SUBJECT PEOPLE, BUT THE STORY CHANGES WITH A SINGULAR OBJECT, AND THAT PLURAL OBJECT IS MUCH CLOSER TO THE VERB, BUT THAT VERB SHOULD AGREE WITH THE SUBJECT AND OBJECT... WOE IS ME) I WILL BE WRITING SHORT THINGS DAILY ABOUT THINGS I NOTICE OR LIKE. IT'S WHO I AM AND HOW I FUNCTION. MUCH MORE REALISTIC AND DESCRIPTIVE OF ME AS A PERSON.

I WILL HAVE SOME MEGA-POSTS--SANS KANYE KEY--TO UPDATE ON SOME OF THE THINGS I HAVE MISSED. AND I'D LIKE TO START HAVING PICTURE POSTS, MAYBE WEEKLY. IT WILL GIVE ME A REASON TO TAKE MORE PICTURES. I AM SUCH A DISCERNING ARTISTS, IT'S WHY I'M SO USELESS.

BASICALLY AMERICA, WATCH THE F OUT. I AM COMING FOR YOU. EVEN IF IT'S NOT THE IN THE KEY OF KANYE. I HAVE GONE CRAZY, BUT I AM STILL HERE. AND I WILL TRY TO BE MORE PRESENT FROM NOW ON. PRESSINGLY, I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF MY EYEBROWS AS A HAIR CUT HAS SHORN OFF THREE MONTHS OF BANGS AND THE BEASTS HAVE BEEN EXPOSED TO THE LIGHT OF DAY. HORROR, OH HORROR.

:D

true statements float above. seriously, from a story. that came out of someone's mouth who isn't me. so there.

ups and downs is the theme of life this few weeks. (also, i will update about turbat one of these days... and bathrooms!! dammit) things have been either awesome or horrid. my sitemate joseph is in the process of returning to america due to medical problems, nothing too serious thankfully. he's excited and upset, obviously. it's a hard decision. but i had to move most of his things... i say most. that may be a bit of an exaggeration.. maybe not. anyway. i DID get a lot of new clothes. super high= i wear a 31 GAP jean now. amazing. i also burned the shit out of my brand new amazing khakis= not so high. also broke a faucet...

and i'm more prone than normal to rambling. somehow i think if you are still a reader, you have learned to put up with that.

so i've been giving exams, which is both exciting and horrible. it's great when the kid does well. it is rather painful (which turns into bothersome) when they aren't so great. my new schedule starts next week. so we'll see how the practice goes.

i'm going fine. if a bit reclusive. also i can't speak english OR russian at this point. its this deplorable mixture of both. that i kind of understand, but that's the end of that. dear lord its almost summer! can't wait for that. need to get my stuff together and make some decisions about where i will be though.

and study russian, kazakh, and the GRE. and french hopefully. i mean i have two native speaker teachers who are fluent in english. how often does that happen.

frankmusik is making me happy at the moment but sadly these headphones are massacring my ears. also, kpop love forever. korean music is an instant pick me up for its saccharine sweetness and super junior just put out a new MV so that's totally epic. FSO

Being on the train is a very good time to think and type I have found. even while people talk about you while you do it. haha. the three women and little boy i am with right now are fine. i'm more like a fun oddity than anything else. my russian is really, really rough--but usable. it might take three horrific, shameful tries, but i can get the info i need.

speaking of. the conductor asked me my ticket number when i turned in my sheets and i casually replied 300. which is completely incorrect. i was in 30. he looked at me, repeated 300 and then just started laughing and asked for my ticket. i corrected, but at that point he didn't trust me anymore. he told me he thought i was russian so the mistake is even funnier. i seem to be looking more and more russian of late because people are getting more and more confused when i speak to them in what is obviously not native russian.

and just to exonerate myself a bit: 300= tree sta 30= treat sat

so i don't have TB. negative skin test and nothing in my lungs. it was a relaxing few days but it came at kind of a weird time. so real time side note: the girl sitting next to me just asked something about getting my computer wet. like can it be wet there. i am a bit confused. she had washed her hands and i thought she wanted to look at the pc. i told her she could but it wasn't what she asked for. eh. that's my general russian life here. even when i know the words she uses, its not at all what i think they are saying.

going back to site now and tomorrow i have a drama festival to judge. that will be exciting, but long. long long. oh well. there will be a few other volunteers here and i think someone from the embassy as well. we'll see.

enough writing for now. i have no idea when we are actually getting to shymkent, but it should be less than half an hour. so we'll see when i get home today.

**upon reflection, this neglects my trip to the village Turbat, which was amazing. as such, i will have a post--with pictures--that will follow at a later date. back to business**

So riding on the train is no worse a time than any other to begin catching up on all of the backlogged posts I need to write. its been, what? a month since i lasted updated. what's has happened? nothing much: a gangster under the table deal... a tuberculosis scare... about a million little things that all add up.

so, let's start with the little things. school has been going when, when i can manage to get there. i have had three? conferences to either host or attend. that makes going to classes regularly. BUT the classes i have been teaching are going really well. my critical thinking course is really fun, even if it has turned into a monster that i will have to tame in the next few weeks. my classes at the college are leveling out. it basically works that i work with a teacher by having one or two activities to practice what she teaches as well as interjecting throughout the lesson. i teach a country studies class, simultaneous translation, and a general english class. the two teachers i work with now are beyond amazing. both are former translators, who i now think of as the best teachers in the whole world. teaching english seems to be less about methodology and more about english language knowledge. though the methodology IS much stronger in the teachers that already are incredibly fluent. its a real catch-22.

still don't know where i fit in there. i have the language and technically have all the training, but i feel like i could do a lot more. thankfully my student testimonials have shown me that despite myself they love my classes and feel that they learn a lot. it is exciting with the higher level students to see them advance quickly as they interact with native speakers. the lower level students need more foundational work so the benefits are much slower in appearing. that makes me thankful that i have to put up with all my insanity but get to deal with higher level students. it also makes me think that the other volunteers are saints or something.

the personal life has been really interesting of late. lots of drama, thankfully i am only circumstantially involved in it all. GOSSIP. that's the word and thanks to my wonderful counterpart and my nature sense of i don't give a shit, it doesn't bother me on a daily basis. it just rears its ugly head from time to time. to make a jump in time that you would otherwise not know about, i have been feeling better in my personal life because i am slowly starting to feel self-sufficient with my language.

we just had a training program called PDM (project training and management) at my college this past week. it is actually conducted by Peace Corps staff, more specifically my boss and manager Alma. for this training all the volunteers in the three oblasts (something like states or regions) in the south all come in to one area--this time its shymkent. so of course it was held at my college, which was nice and also a bit tiring. i was there for five days from 8:30am to around 7:00pm. everyone else was only their for two days. i'm pretty much an expert on the subject at this point. ANYway, many of the volunteers in the south learn Kazakh. which i am now starting to learn. there are many, many more Kazakhs in the south and people here actually speak the language versus in the north where EVERYONE speaks russian regardless. well, i never realized that all the menus are in russian. everywhere. signs are in russian and kazakh but the menus are all in russian. so i was at dinner with laura, one of my favorite volunteers when she asked me what was on the menu. i was surprised at her problem. then i started thinking, she has no idea what any of these words are. she can sound it out but its all basically gibberish unless its a cognate. this was shocking because of her level of kazakh. she can stop and talk to any person on the street about anything she might want. her fluency and ...confidence?... is so much higher than mine. i understand most of what's going on around me, but to initiate anything. not an option. i tend to low-ball my russian level because i have little productive skill. BUT i read that whole GD menu to her and told her everything that was on it. it was a real triumph for me. made me feel much better. the kazakh speakers in the south always let the russian speakers do the ordering for a variety of reasons, but i always get the kazakh speakers to 'practice' but its really a cover to not talk. i am beyond terrified of speaking foreign languages, particularly when its a given that i will say something wrong. horror of horrors. but for laura i ordered and did everything in russian. it wasn't sexy but it worked. i was happy.

speaking of, rather me thinking of other thoughts, i have a new russian tutor. i love my old tutor, but unfortunately she was simply too nice. too lax. i was lazy and she didn't want to press me like i often need. at the time i was thankful because school and life were crazy. summer is almost here and i'll have time and i need to stop being lazy. my new tutor will yell at me. MAJOR plus. she will shame me. UBER plus. probably publically. GOAL! i need that incentive to avoid that horror to overcome the horror of actually studying at home. she is an english teacher at my school whom i work with so i know her and her style. CAN'T WAIT!!

ah, so we can start with something new... my gangster dealings. i was offered an under the table job to destroy a competing institution with a complimentary ultimatum. really awkward. mostly because in this society even saying no to something as heinous as it was is a production. because the actually saying of the word no is next to impossible. and incredibly rude, which you are not allowed to be to someone older or more powerful than yourself. in the end, ie now, it looks to be better. never once did i considering doing this, which was a nice passing of a moral test i've never taken before. sometimes i wonder about things like that, but now i know that i am at least a lawful if not even moral (shock!) person. we'll see what happens with this one in the future.

and then there's the TB. so there is a chance that i have TB. but it's rather small. i've had shots and am healthy and whatnot. but a coworker has 'open' tuberculosis. as far as i can ascertain, this is the much more serious, contagious kind. she coughed at work, but not a lot, and she was really skinny. weight loss is a symptom. fun times. thankfully i lost all my weight before this started happening. or did i? i've worked with her for several months and who knows when she was contagious. the doctor asked me how i felt and i had to answer in the worst way: sick. because i had been. i caught an evil cold, or it was the tb... haha, when i came back from a training in almaty. i was hacking up shit all night long. i had a fever. i had chills. i was just a mess. all rather TBish in symptoms. and then everything bloomed so my allergies are a factor in making any respiratory issus worse. i take my medicine but not as regularly as i should. so someday i way up stopped up. somedays i sneeze more than i thought a person could. so yeah, the call with doctor wasn't fun cause i sounded like i could have TB, but in my opinion its all circumstantial. no biggie. i'm on the train right now to get my skin test done. we'll have definitive word on tuesday. or monday. i forget.

for now i am getting the looks, i am a white guy with a laptop typing away on a train full of old ladies and local people who ...how to say. for whom this is a complete oddity. the typing away is enough to get shocked stares of admiration. that's something i should do. host a typing training seminar. even my students who can type don't do so any faster than a reasonable proficient american child around 10. my russian typing, which is painful, is on par with locals. i try to resist the urge to keep typing and turn and look at people. i just picture them stopping the train to find a duck to try me as a witch. but that's just the kind of demented, reference laden, and particularly accurate thoughts that keep me going.

ah, in other moral high ground news, i'm still not racist. at least not overtly racist. sometimes i obviously think my hateful, blanket statement thoughts of hate. but i never act on them and they only happen at the end of a gruesome day. go me. so many people are already... haters? haha, yeah. haters.

to run up against my last post, i had IST in early april. that's in-service training for everyone not married to the concept that EVERYTHING must be an acronym. it was fun. i don't like almaty like everyone else does, but that's ok. i still enjoyed my time. they have this most delicious treat here called вафлы (vah-flee ie its waffles in russian). if like the sugar wafers you can only get at wal-mart for super cheap. this one store sells extremely cheap bags of 'chocolate.' however, they taste EXACTLY like fruity pebbles. ie like heaven. that makes me like almaty. and i get to see olessya, who i worked with briefly in shymkent before she was hired by peace corps and stolen away to almaty.

the actual seminar was cool, i have had some training in our OCAP (organization and community assistance program). i now know a lot more about writing grants. about project planning and execution. etc etc. as an educator we received no cross training in it. that's not to say that there were sessions that were bad, useless, or offensive. but we just have to let things go.

so that's the abbreviated last two months. or more. i know, abbreviated... kashmar.

OH SNAP. forgot the best part. i bought some skin-tight checkered pants. people think i'm turkish now. score.

man... the weather here. on March 8th we had the most amazing weather, in the low 70s is my guess. by the 12th we had over 2 inches of snow. by the 15th it was all gone. and yesterday the weather was hot. ok, so relatively hot. and unexpected. it was maybe in the low-mid 80s. but seeing people still with hats or fur coats on made me hotter i guess. though they got with the picture and by the end of the day no one was wearing their coats and i saw boys in light jackets with flip-flops on. woot!

to put this in perspective, most (i don't really know if this is true, but i know a large part) of Kazakhstan is still snowy or so cold it doesn't matter there is no snow. and the volunteers there are still frozen peepcicles.

BUT-- next week is a major holiday here. its called Nauryz Наурыз (pronounced Now-riz). this is the Kazakh word for March. in this way it means the holiday of Spring and the Kazakh New Year. so its a big deal, especially here in Shymkent where the culture is the most Kazakh and/or traditional. anyway, about 65 people are leaving the siberian tundra to come down here for warmth and sport.

so, i will be extremely busy for the next two weeks. first with Nauryz then with our first peace corps training in almaty. i won't be posting but i will be taking photos to post after things calm down.

oh but i want take some pictures of the delicious things i have been eating lately. one is a glazed pastry with ORANGE JELLO WITH NUTS in the middle!!!! and the wonderful Georgian food i have had lately too.

more on that lately.

oh and real quick, to scare away the doom and gloom. i have had several nights here (and other random times) of just pure, unadulterated joy at being here. don't know why but it's really, really nice. that and having a class that i love and my students love. thank you Critical Thinking!!!

and thus i know that spring is here. this is actually a really funny story. i was walking back home with sipra, becca, and a local friend named Malika. sipra tells us 'that little boy just threw mud at that woman. that's insane.' i laughed, thinking that there must be some kind of mistake. but no, this little boy reaches down into the ditch and brings up a handful of sludge. some poor, unsuspecting local woman walked by when he hurled the handful right at her. and the biggest shock: no one says anything. this boy was maybe 5 max. somewhere between 3-5 is entirely possible. he's alone. he's BEEN flinging this disgusting filth and people just walk past even after getting spattered. well, we are steadily approaching him when we stop to stare at this oddity. and that's when things take a ride on the bananas train.

the boy turns to us, arms raised, ready. we walked past him exchanging piercing glances, as if we were daring him to throw it. and he did. that little demon had amazing range and accuracy. leaping away, i got hit on the leg and sipra on her bag. but we see he's already reaching back into the run off for more ammunition. well, we immediately all respond in our natural way. Malika shouts 'Run!' and takes off. becca follows her literally screaming. i start laughing running after becca. and stipra turns to the boy and is yelling at him in russian to stop. well, obviously that didn't work.

becca ran like her hair was on fire and i've peed myself laughing. i heared sipra behind us shouting to go into the store 'he won't follow us in there.' well, that too was not correct. we stopped up the street and turned to see the epc showdown. i had a feeling that the boy wouldn't be stopped by something as simple as an open door. he stood there staring sipra down for a good 10 seconds and then launches his putrid projectile into the store at sipra. then she explodes out yelling at him. Malika also ran back to help subdue our foe. sipra and Malika tried to set him straight, i was heavily in favor of a nice clout on the head... my freshly washed pants now had two huge mud splatters, i wanted vengence. he ran around laughing and couldn't have cared less. he ran back for more mud and we walked off. there were plenty of new people to harass.

the best part was us after the incident. Malika told us this was normal and that there were no options other than running. i continued to laugh and help becca remind us all that, yes, in fact, that did just happen. becca kept talking about the stare down and expressing disbelief about the entire 3 minute period. poor sipra, she was just not pleased, looking farther into the future realizing that nothing and no one would ever fix either our injustice or his behavior.

try as i might, i could not get her to accompany me to have life-after-near-death ice cream. but they went swimming. i went home and played video games on the computer.

things in general have been like that. everything is basically flying poo looking to make as big a mess as possible. i'm thankfully somewhat agile and only occassionally get hit on the leg. i can't promise to be particularly consistant for the next month because i am pretty much triple booked. luckily, part of my business comes from preparing for a pseudo-holiday, so there is a nice shiny light at the end of the tunnel.

until next time. watch out for monkey with dirty hands and be good.

and thus i know that spring is here. this is actually a really funny story. i was walking back home with sipra, becca, and a local friend named Malika. sipra tells us 'that little boy just threw mud at that woman. that's insane.' i laughed, thinking that there must be some kind of mistake. but no, this little boy reaches down into the ditch and brings up a handful of sludge. some poor, unsuspecting local woman walked by when he hurled the handful right at her. and the biggest shock: no one says anything. this boy was maybe 5 max. somewhere between 3-5 is entirely possible. he's alone. he's BEEN flinging this disgusting filth and people just walk past even after getting spattered. well, we are steadily approaching him when we stop to stare at this oddity. and that's when things take a ride on the bananas train.

the boy turns to us, arms raised, ready. we walked past him exchanging piercing glances, as if we were daring him to throw it. and he did. that little demon had amazing range and accuracy. leaping away, i got hit on the leg and sipra on her bag. but we see he's already reaching back into the run off for more ammunition. well, we immediately all respond in our natural way. Malika shouts 'Run!' and takes off. becca follows her literally screaming. i start laughing running after becca. and stipra turns to the boy and is yelling at him in russian to stop. well, obviously that didn't work.

becca ran like her hair was on fire and i've peed myself laughing. i heared sipra behind us shouting to go into the store 'he won't follow us in there.' well, that too was not correct. we stopped up the street and turned to see the epc showdown. i had a feeling that the boy wouldn't be stopped by something as simple as an open door. he stood there staring sipra down for a good 10 seconds and then launches his putrid projectile into the store at sipra. then she explodes out yelling at him. Malika also ran back to help subdue our foe. sipra and Malika tried to set him straight, i was heavily in favor of a nice clout on the head... my freshly washed pants now had two huge mud splatters, i wanted vengence. he ran around laughing and couldn't have cared less. he ran back for more mud and we walked off. there were plenty of new people to harass.

the best part was us after the incident. Malika told us this was normal and that there were no options other than running. i continued to laugh and help becca remind us all that, yes, in fact, that did just happen. becca kept talking about the stare down and expressing disbelief about the entire 3 minute period. poor sipra, she was just not pleased, looking farther into the future realizing that nothing and no one would ever fix either our injustice or his behavior.

try as i might, i could not get her to accompany me to have life-after-near-death ice cream. but they went swimming. i went home and played video games on the computer.

things in general have been like that. everything is basically flying poo looking to make as big a mess as possible. i'm thankfully somewhat agile and only occassionally get hit on the leg. i can't promise to be particularly consistant for the next month because i am pretty much triple booked. luckily, part of my business comes from preparing for a pseudo-holiday, so there is a nice shiny light at the end of the tunnel.

until next time. watch out for monkey with dirty hands and be good.

everyday i lay in bed trying to go to sleep. and everyday the same thoughts invade and disrupt my struggle for inner peace and sleep. so i have finally done what my brain keeps telling me. write a blog post to my father.

so one day you told me that you have a constant ringing in one (or both, i forget) of your ears. well, i tend to hae ringing in my ears. and as far as i can remember at the moment, i think i have for a long time. i blame being the earbud generation, but c'est la vie. anyway, its always incredibly bad in a quiet room, like when i'm trying to sleep. well, i have taken to doing something about it that i often think i should tell you. life with buzzing is miserable and not something someone should have to deal with. so i've taken to a kind of mantra. though, mantra isn't the right word, it is a kind of right start. so this is when my advice gets silly, but effective. i have taken to training myself how to stop the buzzing. this has gone through several iterations, and the last few have been irritating in their limited useless. so i started first by assigning my brain the task of becoming an old-fashioned radio... it's really a personal choice. this buzzing in my head is simply noise coming from a radio that i can simply reach and turn off. now, this is the slow, horrible part. as you mental reach your mental hand out to that mental turn dial, your brain is literally cycling through all the sensory imput you are getting trying to find the correct frequency.. its like trying to tune to the right station. your brain knows your intent, it just doesn't know what's white noise and what's not. so you do this over and over and eventually your brain learns what this buzzing is and qualifies it. it literally becomes the on/off switch you imagine. so when you turn it off it knows which sounds to make you stop hearing. so, i do something like that every night to shut off the buzzing and then i lay in nice quiet until i fall asleep. though in all honesty, the radio idea is an old one. it has been replaced and this is my warning to you. don't do something too constrictive. from the radio i switched to a turn dial, but the irritating part is that i normally do this in the dark and in bed. so for a long time i couldn't quiet the noise if i tried sitting up in the afternoon for example. well, that made me mad. so i could do the simple thing and retrain myself, but i didn't. i think i forgot about this whole thing until recently, when i had to start listening to mind numbingly loud music to deal with my everyday life. something i am actually very upset about. so now i have had to revive this practice, but it didn't quite work because it had been too long a break and my brain had forgotten how to hit the mute button. anyway, when i remembered i was on my left side. and now i can ONLY do it on my left side, which is a pain. also i have mistaken trained myself so that it doesn't really work. i've been lazy and half the time when i take a prepatory deep inhale to turn the round volume knob that is now my mental image, the volume goes down but not off. and not when i actually turn the knob. good job i know... when that made me angry so i've started doing other things. i know this has gotten lengthy but its a weird process and i actually haven't ever told this story before and i like to tell stories, especially late at night and to my notepad. so now i can quiet buzzing, but not all of it at once. there are normally several different frequencies buzzing in my ear (from my loud music destroying my ears on a variety of levels at once) and i must work on each one at a time. so now i visual the inside of my head and assign a space in my 'headspace' for this sound. and strangely i picture the sounds as colored mesh link fences. i think linked fences because they are easier to grasp. anyway, then i take my mental hand and shove them down (though slowly, like pushing a stubborn garage door) and the noises fade away. and i do this with each successive layer until its quiet.

i'm kind of lazy about it but i normally fall asleep before i have too much to worry about it coming back. i know this was all wordy and strange, but it really does work. i started doing this when i had cluster migraines in college and it really does work. i watched some documentary about bioresponse and training your body to do things like this, it's used a lot in chronic pain treatment when pain killers don't actually work. you simply learn to turn off certain brain signals. so anyway, you should try and do this if you want because ringing in your ears is a pain in the ass.

this week is busy so i will be honest and say that every spare moment i have will be unwinding with my super nintendo games. you gotta do what you gotta do, right? but now that i have relearned the convenience of typing on my own laptop and simply using other PCs as a posting horse, i should be more regular with my post. i've also been following a 'if you don't have anything nice to say...' policy so you can see obviously that things are fantabulous. i kid, i kid. i joke, i joke. or not. nah. my new motto (i have a new one like everyday...) "c'est la vie"

thick girls in cute clothes, solid rain water, nice people on the bus, internet at home, street popcorn, too loud lady gaga, dubbed kids shows, talking to my mom, peppers, purple hair, eyebrow situations, durak, hooker boots, tv marathons, holidays, facebook messages, packages with reeses, jasmine leaves, trashy american gossip, the copier, feigning ignorance, pants tucked into boots, junk in the trunk, magical transporting bathrooms, half and half chai, turkish bread, cheap shashlik, skype, uzbek food, english speakers,anything c ricom, cafeteria ladies, nasty PDA, walking in the rain, defying norms, long stares, staring back, high ponytails, flashdrives, cheap buses, afternoon classes, BSG, black jackets, pointy shoes, krimped hair, bootleg movies, smiles, the bazaar, lagman, dominos, plus 15, window views, long beds, herb gardens, walking on yellow, bowlegged walkers, old ladies with HUGE headwraps, too loud music, watching the snow fall, stilettos in snow, window shopping, mullets, SHINY dress pants, interpretive dance, knowing random words, unlimited sugar, pizza, FUR, crazy hats, tight pants, ugly pants, short skirts in the snow, hooker leggings, sour balls of death, cheap beer, cheap vodka, endless coat options, angry bystanders, confused people, ooooooold people, sleeping in, straight bangs, man bangs, bear pelts, banyas, pastries, meat pies, options, parties, bad techno, midnight dance parties, my mom's foul mouth, my own foul mouth, my inner dialog, broke down buses, long walks across town, free internet cafes, Kara Kum, Neil Patrick Harris, floor length coats, gold teef, accidental swearing, happy students, star fish babies!, anything with pumpkin, my laptop, strutting, big girls strutting, texas pete

this picture is the only reason i am still sane. you get infinite love if you get it, also a free diagnosis of insanity...

so i haven't been updating. sorry. i have plenty of stories and quotes, but i have had such a hard time i don't ever get on the internet or computer.

i have officially hit the 'low.'

the honeymoon is over and i am now in the first truly negative stage of culture shock. its inevitable, but it does suck.

i am getting kicked off the computer, but i will try and right some more of what's been going on. don't worry, it's not all bad.

today was a crazy day. i got my own class to teach, kind of. we start on wednesday and that's exciting.

last night... pun intended... i fell walking to brit's apartment to get the last season of battlestar galactica. i love it that much. my hip hurts, but the real pain were all the young, local people who managed to be loitering at 9pm where i fell. not a nice thing to fall and then here a huge chorus of laughter. blarg

i am pretending to feel better, healthier, so that's good i suppose. i spent too much time looking up weird medical things today. i have decided i have what i call ***mastodon. it is censored for good reason. haha

anyway, one day when i'm not sleepy i will update on my month.