Thoughts Jan. 12

Sorry for the mixed up order of my blogs

I thought I should write another blog, even though many of you may not read this until several weeks to months after I write this. It helps to write down my thoughts and share them with you even if I don’t get this posted for a whileJ. I was just composing a few emails and thinking about my time here thus far and I thought I should share some of my thoughts with you. I have had a lot of time to read while I’ve been here. At this point (January 12, 2009) I have finished 19 books totaling over 6,000 pages. I am also currently in the middle (or somewhere) of seven other books. Those 19 books span the various genres. Through that reading I’ve gained insight, had a laugh or two, cried, and overall enjoyed the momentary escape from reality. However, some books forced me back to my reality through their words and passages. I thought I might share some of those excerpts that I found particularly influencing in case any of you are having similar thoughts or experiences. One of the books I read was an anthology of medical literature. It was overall an enjoyable book, one that I had purchased probably a year before I left and had every intention of reading but never got around to doing it. Each individual story, poem, or essay had a point to make but I think it was the last essay that I enjoyed the most. Perhaps it was because the book was finally over (I get this strange thrill out of finishing a book and I started this one when I arrived in T-stan so it was especially exciting), perhaps it was because it was relatively short or perhaps it echoed what I was thinking about at the time. It was a ‘gentle reflection’ by David Loxtercamp entitled “Facing our Mortality: The virtue of a common life”. He wrote several things that I believe are quote worthy, “We [doctors, nurses] are relief workers in a refugee camp, supplied with an insufficient stockpile of loyalty, friendship, and love. It is ordinary human relationship we engage in, no matter how much is made of the gap in power or degree of intimacy” He went on to discuss community in a hospital setting and how he felt it was lacking, but had this to say about community, “The purpose of community (because, in an affluent age, we no longer need it for physical survival) is to remind us who we are. This message is refreshed every Saturday morning at public market, along the Fourth of July parade route, at yard sales, benefit suppers, community plays, and YMCA runs”. I believe, Loxtercamp was chastising doctors for their disconnectedness as many of the authors in the book I read did. He also noted that, “It is a shame, really, that doctors spend so little time in the communities where they practice. If we did, we might come to see our patients from a different angel, as real people on equal terms, capable of returning more than they receive”. This, naturally, made me happy because this is one of the prides of being a PCV. Finally, he noted, “If there are any heroes or saints left in the world, they are each of us at our best, responding to the worst that the world imposes. Like a photo mosaic, our lives create the ethereal outline of virtue. But it is in the individual faces, or parts thereof, that virtue becomes most worthy of emulation”.
One of the seven current books I’m working on is entitled Soul Cravings by Erwin Raphael McManus and was sent to me by my pastor from back home. His book is split into three sections and the section that I chose to begin with is entitled destiny. In one of his entries he writes, “All of us are called to a place we have not been. Our lives were always intended to be journeys into the unknown. The invitation is both personal and mystical. No one else may fully understand what you are being called to. You may not even fully understand. The path you must walk may appear to others as strange or unreasonable, but you know there’s more going on than meets the eye.” I do believe this sums up the beginning of my Peace Corps experience more succinctly that I could have.
In case you are really interested in the other books I’m working on reading they are: African Nights by Kuki Gallmann, Yoga 28 Day Exercise Plan by Richard Hittleman, At Play in the Fields of the Lord by Peter Mattheissen, Great American Short Stories from Hawthorne to Hemmingway Edited by Corinne Demas, The Spirit Catches You And You Fall Down by Anne Fadiman, and The Beach by Alex Garland. They are all good in their own ways and I’m reading each to fulfill a different reason. I just finished a romance novel in which the main character was an avid reader and had a book for every occasion – her breakfast book, her lunch book, dinner book, her relaxing book, her soak in the tub book, her night book, etc. I like to think I have something similar.
As always I’m sending you peace and love. I hope all is well with you and you are happy and healthy. Keep the letters/emails/packages coming and I look forward to hearing from you!

I did it!

I did it!
Did what? Well, I crossed off another one of the bazaar things that I have wanted to do since I’ve gotten here. The list keeps growing but it includes things like make çorek (Turkmen bread) start to finish, learn to can things, garden our HUGE backyard, milk the cows, etc. One of those things was to make peanut butter from scratch. It is that item that I have officially crossed off my list. The story for the motivation behind the peanut butter is not short. It begins with a fellow PCV, a T-15 who is extending (this means she has already done two years and is starting her third year as we speak). Her name is Adrienne. Adrienne has done a lot of things over her two years in country and one of those things was having a girls’ club in which they participated in all sorts of activities including milking goats and making cheese out of those goats and, naturally, making peanut butter from scratch. This got me excited because as an avid peanut butter fan living in a country that does not have peanut butter is a challenging proposition. I slyly inquired how one might go about making said peanut butter and her reply was something along the lines of buy a bunch of peanuts, take off the silly brown casing (peanuts here come pre-shelled but with that dark brown covering), grind them really small and add salt and oil. I think, that doesn’t sound too hard I just need to get a grinder. I contemplated buying Adrienne’s when she leaves but that leaves me at the mercy of friends and family for my peanut butter needs for another entire year.
One week ago I found out, or realized, that my family has a grinder. I was elated! I made this realization after eating something very similar to foil dinners on several occasions. These dinners included ground beef along with the normal foil dinner ingredients. Now I had all of the necessary items (once I bought peanuts) but I needed some motivation…
I have been spending one morning a week at the kindergarten in town and we are currently doing nutrition. I have had brilliant ideas for the previous three weeks and this week we are covering the meat and protein group. I suggest you try to come up with a good idea to keep 3 – 6 year olds enthralled with meat for a half an hour, especially when you, as the educator, don’t like meat or talking about it for that matter. I thought about it for a while and thought, hey, maybe kids would like it if I made food for them. And I love to bake, so perhaps I could make some sort of baked good. But then we run into how a person is going to link baked goods to meat. I don’t bake with meat and even if I did I have no idea what I would make. Here comes my motivation for peanut butter…peanut butter cookies!!! I know…it is a stretch, but I’ll make it work (the lesson is tomorrow morning).
Now we return to the making of the peanut butter. I walk to the dukan (store) and buy a kilo of peanuts because I figure the container that my parents sent me fits 2 pounds 8 ounces of peanut butter and since it is empty it needs filling up. Once I’ve purchased the peanuts I settle onto a cushion on the floor with my bag of peanuts with the annoying casings, a ziploc bag for the good peanuts, and my garbage bin to throw all the brown casings and I pop in a movie (The Prestige). I finish the movie and look at my progress…hmm…well I thought I had done a lot of peanuts! I opt to put in another movie (The Bee Movie). Cute movie…well this is going to take longer than I had anticipated. I continue putting movies in and watching them while shelling peanuts and before I know it I’ve seen Eastern Promises, Babel, The Last King of Scotland, Capote and Enchanted. At this point I know I’m in trouble it took me 7 movies to get rid of the stupid brown casings on 1 kilo of peanuts and I want to make peanut butter cookies out of this which will involve using at least half of it during the making. Why did I have to get myself into this? Onto the next phase – the grinding, I take all of my peanuts to the kitchen along with my oil and set up the grinder and begin to grind. I quickly discover that the grinder doesn’t want to stay put. Although even with that obstacle this task took a mere 30 minutes (and that included a twice through on the grinder). The result is a fine paste of peanuts. I am adequately satisfied but now comes the guessing aspect. How much salt do I put in and how much oil? I know the consistency I want so I simply add small amounts of salt and oil and then stir and taste. The answer – a little salt and a lot of oil (well maybe a half cup or so, maybe a cup). The final part of this horror project will take place tonight when I make cookies for 75 children their 5 or so teachers and the 10 or so other workers at the kindergarten. That is 90 cookies, let alone the ones I’m obliged to make for my family any time I bake and if I want to have any for myself I’d better first make some for my coworkers at the clinic. We have a weekly English meeting on Thursday that I should probably bring some to. My guess is I’ll end up making 90 small cookies (very small) and then another 50 – 60 for everyone else. 150 cookies, no sweat…well maybe not much but there will certainly be no sleep! It is already 6:17pm and I have to wait to make the cookies until after we eat dinner which won’t be for another hour or so. I also HAVE to take a shower tonight. Don’t ask how long it has been, you really don’t want to know, it may scare you! Take care! As a final thought I’ve included my ‘to do in Turkmenistan’ list as it currently stands below. Enjoy!
Learn to pickleMilk the cows on my ownBe trusted with Kervan for more than 5 minutesMake a real friendMake Peanut Butter from scratchMake butter/Yogurt/Sour Cream/Cheese from scratchFarm/GardenRide a camelRide a donkeyBe able to understand a conversation during mhykmanning (guesting)Go to 75 toý’s (parties – I’m already at 12)Make an artistic masterpieceMake çorek start to finish (bread)Watch the tamdyr being made (tamdyr is the oven that bread is made in)Learn to make Turkmen carpets!

Funeral

We entered the house and it was incredibly silent even though it was filled to the brim with women. In the four rooms that I could see there were over 100 people. We walked through the first room and into a second where we placed our gifts (food, çaý, and in my case homemade peanut butter cookies – see blog I did it!!!) and shook hands with each of the women. They were, from what I could tell, the elders of the family. We gave each the standard greeting, ‘daýomy?’ literally - are you strong?, then we took our place along one of the walls and sat for a little while, there was a spread of food out but no one seemed to touch it. We sat in silence for a time and did a lot of praying. One of the elder women would say a prayer and everyone would cup their hands at their waist or chest and then when the prayer is over you take your hands and swipe them over your face as if your hands were filled with water and you are splashing it onto your face. Cutting through the silence was a startling, painful wail. It was much worse than hearing someone cry, even crying uncontrollably. The wail was filled with pain and anguish and intense hurt and sadness. Several of the women in the room I was in began to tear up and cry silently (this included me). Slowly, people began to exchange greetings and give condolences. Some food was brought out in bowls and people nibbled at it politely and after about five to ten minutes we left. We then went into a second hidden room that appeared to hold the immediate family. My director was in this room. I gave her a hug and shook everyone else’s hands. We sat down and declined the offerings of çaý and food out of what I believe was politeness. We sat in this room for another ten minutes or so and then stood up to leave. We walked back out the main room through 20 – 30 people. We then walked to another house, again filled with women, sat in another room after shaking hands with all the women who were sitting around the outside, we sat, exchanged greetings, prayed, ate a little bit, and someone gave me a gift of crackers (these are normally set out when you have guests over for çaý). I tried to casually leave them behind but one of the doctors told me I had forgotten them. I can’t really figure out why I got a gift, but this is not the first time this has happened. We spent another 10 minutes at this second house and then returned to walk home. On the way in and out I saw large gatherings of men. There were men coming and going from one of the houses and several large gatherings of men standing around the area where the women normally cook. It appeared that they were tending the steaming containers of food, if this was indeed the case this is a task not often done by men.
The lead up to the visitation is as follows. Today was the absolute right day to look as Turkmen as I could, I dressed the part and I didn’t even know what I was getting into. Last night Dilber (sister-in-law) suggested that I wear my new Turkmen vest with my one and only (not for much longer) Turkmen koýnek (dress). I have my weekly English lesson with the doctors and nurses on Thursdays (today) and she thought they would like it. They really did! Everyone’s face lit up as soon as they saw me. It was great! I felt silly, but sometimes you just have to. Shortly before our lesson began the doctors informed me that the head doctor, Jemagül, just had a death in the family (I believe it was a sibling but I’m not entirely sure). They said they were going to visit her after our lesson and asked if I would like to accompany them. I said yes. This is where I was very, very glad that I wore my Turkmen clothing. The lesson ends and we wait for a little while. I am asked if I have my hat with me because I need to have my head covered when we go and I run home to grab it. When I arrive at home I decided that it would be better if I was wearing a scarf rather than my crocheted hat. I opted for my one scarf. It is bright purple with crazy flowers on it – very Turkmen. I returned to the clinic with my head scarf looking incredibly Turkmen. I took pictures which I will hopefully get posted soon.
Looking back on it, I think that funeral rituals are very telling of a culture’s priorities. The number of people who were in Jemagül’s home and three or four surrounding homes was simply inspiring. There were so many people. The support of this small community was immense. On the way to and from the visitation everyone we passed seemed to be going to or coming from the house. My family knew about it and we live on the opposite side of town. In America community support in many places is, in my opinion, severely lacking. Americans go about their daily business and many times don’t connect with a single person outside of their home. I find, the more I travel, that much of the world finds this concept foreign. Most of the rest of the world embraces community and thrives with the support of community. While there are some communities that exist in the states they are usually far and few.

Views from Kelsey's medical office

The two pictures above are of my office at work. The left is from sitting at my desk and the right is from my door. I have a large room and I’m really glad that I do!

This is from the window directly behind my desk chair. The front lawn/garden is really pretty and will probably be even more so when summer/spring hit!


The picture on the right is looking out my other window which you can see in the top right picture. The house beyond the gate is my house. I live that close to the clinic!

The Stare of Nonunderstanding

I’ve been at my permanent site in Lebap, Turkmenistan for exactly two weeks (as of when I’m writing this – probably closer to three by the time it is posted). I am getting adjusted to my family, co-workers, and community as they are slowly getting adjusted to me. I’ve noticed something that seems to be universal and I’ve named it “the stare of non-understanding” or, more simply, “the Stare”. The Stare occurs anytime there is a misunderstanding. I see the Stare most often when it comes to issues in language and translation. I am equally guilty of gawking at other people with the Stare as I am of giving it myself. It is a facial expression that involves the mouth slightly gaping, with the corners of your mouth turned down, one eyebrow (in my case the left) is slightly cocked, the other is slightly depressed giving the face a slanted appearance. There are equal parts, confusion, compassion, and hysteria in the eyes and occasionally an entire conversation can happen where both members are exhibiting the Stare. The hardest thing about the stare is that I can usually relieve others with the stare but usually when I am afflicted the conversation simply ends, or I wear the stare so long that I fear it may become a permanent fixture.
I have been working hard at my Turkmen even after training is over with. I’ve found myself a teacher and we will begin after New Year’s working on my Turkmen. I have been working in a book called “Colloquial Turkmen” that was given to us by Peace Corps. It is essentially a grammar workbook that anyone who has taken foreign languages would recognize. I will also occasionally take out my vocab words, and I carry my Turkmen-English, English-Turkmen dictionary with me nearly everywhere I go.

Not always bright shiny stars.

Well, it happened, my first bout of true loneliness. I have been emotionally thriving in beautiful Turkmenistan, but today November 18th I am feeling the pains of loneliness. I wrote two letters – one to each set of grandparents. I realized that they would probably be receiving them around Christmas which of course began my thoughts toward one of my favorite times of the year. And even though it is over a month away I am missing my family like today is Christmas. Training has been incredibly easy as I am constantly surrounded by fellow Americans but the thought of Christmas has been constantly in the back of my mind. This holiday that, for me, is so focused on family. I have never experienced Christmas without my parents and sister. This will be the first time that happens and I am dreading the day like a plague or more accurately like passing a worm (which I’m also fairly sure will happen sometime in the next two years). Even though I am constantly experiencing new things and am always excited about my language acquisition and each new experience I am not invincible and quite prone to sadness.
It is a month later, Christmas Eve day to be precise and I have had several of these loneliness bouts and at first was very hesitant to share them with everyone reading my blog for several reasons. 1. I didn’t want to burden all of you with my very personal concerns. 2. I knew loneliness would be a part of my life here and will continue to be over the next several years. 3. I am by no means alone with this feeling. 4. It comes and goes and at worst makes me cry. I decided to share the above note and what I’ve written below because it is a part of my experience and for those of you looking to have this experience through me need to know that this is part of my reality. I also feel it is important when a person is feeling out of sorts to share those feelings and by writing them down I am in a way sharing them.
Today is Christmas Eve Day and, as anyone who knows me can attest, my favorite time of year is winter. This includes the ‘holiday’ season which in my opinion starts November 1st and ends January 15th or sometime after that. Some of the most important parts of this season are; being around my family and friends, sipping hot cocoa indoors after sledding, skiing, building a snowman, ice skating, or just walking out in the snow with my puppy. Every winter season I am overwhelmed with love to share with everyone I see, meet, and come into contact with. While I can and do share that love here in Turkmenistan, there is something significant missing. I’ve read the Christmas story several times, I’ve been listening to Christmas carols since the day after Thanksgiving, I’ve even purchased/made a Christmas present to exchange at the Lebap Christmas party on Sunday. And still there is something missing. No one here understands what Christmas is, nor have they grown up with me waking up early every Christmas (or during my teenage years being woken up), going Christmas shopping with my sister, they don’t know the look I get on my face every time it snows or how much I love decorating for Christmas, they don’t know that I mandate mistletoe in my home/apartment/dorm, etc. They aren’t my family and I’ve only known them for the past few weeks therefore they are not yet good friends. It is very hard to be alone during a time of year that I associate unconditionally with family.
I hope everyone reading this has a wonderful winter season and that you fully savor and enjoy each of the small traditions you and your family have created. I know this evening I will be missing the pizza my family makes every year on Christmas Eve and I’ll miss singing Silent Night in church with all of the hundreds of candles burning everywhere around me.

My Turkmen New Year’s

My first Turkmen New Year’s began in a surprising location. I found myself at a holiday work party Monday night (before New Year’s) with 4 (out of 5)of the doctors at my clinic. I arrived to the director of health in my etrap (county) greeting me by name at the door, and entered the room to find around 150 or so other people. In many respects it was similar to one that many of us have attended in the past; there was food, music, decorations, presents and even some dancing.
Let’s begin with the room. The room was a large rectangualar room with a large stage occupying one entire end. In the center of the room was a Charlie Brown looking Christmas tree that was hovering around 25 feet tall. It was covered in tinsel and neon, metallic colored garland in an effort, I believe, to cover the sparseness of the boughs. The tree had a very homey feel. Two of the walls were covered in color penciled drawings of Santa Clause, a very young looking Mrs. Clause, some animals frolicking in the snow and welcoming the new year of 2009 with their words and happy expressions. The final wall had what I would consider to be the head table that I’m assuming had the head health administrators for our region. I was seated on the opposite side of the room, right in front of the stage.
The food was very untraditional for a Turkmen Toý in that each individual hospital brought their own food. It was very potluck feeling, however there wasn’t much sharing happening. My clinic brought manty (meat filled steamed dough packets), çorba (soup) that had an inch of ýag (oil) floating on the top. By the end of the evening it had gelled into a solid that my spoon was sitting on top of, therefore, I was able to get a fairly accurate approximation of the amount. In addition to these main courses we had all of the traditional party foods: several small bowls filled with peanuts, several apples, oranges/tangarines, sweets, cookies, tea, and of course one bottle of vodka. I have only begun to have experiences with drinking with Turkmen and because I am a woman I hear it is not nearly as intense. At this dinner I had three shots of vodka in 15 minutes and a half a glass of really bad wine and then we were done.
The evening began with the eating, then progressed to the entertainment and finally to dancing. The entertainment was defiantly entertaining. Throughout the entire evening there was Turkmen music performed by a live Turkmen folk group which I, unfortunately, was unable to really watch because my back was to the stage. Periodically we watched two guys who I understood to be a comedy group. They were really great, especially when I could understand what was happening. In fact, I think the best part of the evening was when they performed essentially a lip sync song that had been edited to have several different songs come in and out. The entertainment came in that they were supposedly ‘playing’ the music on the piano and ‘singing’ the music and when the song changed they freaked out and eventually ended up throwing the keyboard on the ground which of course made it fall into several pieces. I also saw them perform the first Turkmen drag I’ve seen. Then there were several word comedies that I didn’t understand. We also had a group of young people dressed in really shabby clothing with masks on. I think they were all girls but were dressed as two girls and two guys. They were each wearing masks. Three of the masks were cloth and painted and the fourth looked like it was right out of the Halloween bin at Goodwill. They begged for food by dancing and entertaining people. It was really confusing and I really didn’t understand what they were doing or why. My best guess is that they were paid (or perhaps children of some of the doctors) and they were supposed to represent the old year in some way. Perhaps the passing of the old year. Any other insight on that feel free to email me. I asked about it but didn’t get an answer that I really understood. The final entertainment aspect was ayaz baba (santa clause) and garpamyle (snow maiden). Santa wasn’t wearing red but rather blue and white. He greeted everyone then sang a few songs, one of which reminded me of a Christmas carol, and then he and the snow maiden danced with us. The dancing was …. well it consisted of nearly two thirds of the people standing up forming small concentric circles and walking around in a circle stepping in time to the music and waving their hands into circles. It was different from previous Turkmen dancing that I’ve done in that it was co-ed. I actually danced with several old men (including santa) and it is much more interactive. The men have some sort of signal and then if he is looking at you you both go into the circle do this greeting dance step in the middle and then switch sides of the circle. I’m not entirely sure if I figured it out but everyone seemed to think it was great that the weird person was dancing. I didn’t look too out of place because I was wearing my toý koýnek (party dress) but I still wasn’t wearing a head scarf, I’m fairly light skinned, and I wasn’t wearing the traditional Turkmen coat (don) but instead my fleece and a huge bulky scarf. The dancing was a lot of fun and I really began to connect with my co-workers in hopefully a way that will help me to be able to do some good work over the next several years.
The final part of the evening was announcing all of the head doctors at each of the clinics. Presents were given to each of these people as well as several other positions high up in the etrap health system. I noticed as all of the presents were being given out that they were very untypical for what I would normally give a person in the states for something like a holiday party or even for a raise at a job or a congradulations for a new position. Each of the head doctors were given a gift package that included a plate, 4 cups, and a teapot. The lower of the ‘higher up’ positions were given fancy glass serving dishes and the two really fancy exciting positions were given refrigerators. All of which were household items. I really enjoyed noting this difference in cultures. I have stopped trying to figure out why things are done and try more to simply accept that the difference exists and then putting together all of the differences I see and then trying to figure out what lies behind those differences. For example; in Türkmenistan people are extremely hospitable, I believe this is because Turkmen used to be a nomadic culture and therefore one community is really just a large family. Because of that guesting (yes I know that isn’t a word but for me as a PCV in T-stan it is) and visiting is expected and therefore having extra dishes, serving dishes and refrigerators would be a very good thing to have. In America we are very individual. You cannot simply show up at someone’s house. It would be considered rude. If you want to visit someone you have to give them a several day to several month advance notice (depending on how far away you live). If someone comes to visit in the states it would be normal to offer them something to drink, but normally you would not spend time to cook them an entire meal complete with salad, several appetizers, desert, and then sit and talk with your guest for the next three hours. You would ask them very quickly why they were there and what they wanted. There are many differences between where I am and where you are and I am constantly learning about them. Something new each and every day.

The second part of my New Year’s celebration occurred on New Year’s Eve with my family. Something you may not know about my Turkmen family is that I have 12 brothers and sisters. Only one of whom still lives at home. Throughout the evening we had four maybe five of my siblings stop by with their spouses or grandchildren so it was a very festive family feeling. The first thing I noticed was several days before New Year’s we had a Christmas tree decorated outside of our house that was tied to the ceiling by thick wire (rather than placed in a tree holder). It was covered in tinsel and neon, metallic garland just like the tree at the party. It was so beautiful I took a picture. Because the celebration was at my house we spent all day getting ready. I baked those peanut buttery cookies that you put hershey’s kisses or those chocolate stars into the middle of. I chose to put half pieces of mini reeces peanut butter cups. They were fantastic and went over huge with the Turkmen! I’ve baked probably four times since I’ve arrived here and those were by far the best received, which is really entertaining because there is no peanut butter here, a fact which I am having a really hard time reconciling. I also put out plates of peanuts and several containers of homemade, canned juice – one tomato and the other apricot. I helped my sister-in-law bake a Turkmen cake (torte). And after all our preparations we placed everything out onto the large table we had set. One of the awesome aspects of floor dining is that the table can be whatever size you need it to be! We sat down in the living room with the tv blazing Russian New Year’s entertainment which was almost like the New Year’s Eve countdowns from home. Then the soup was served and my father opened up the vodka. He poured shots around for everyone and gave a toast. Three minutes later it was one of my sister’s turns to toast. Another shot. Five minutes pass and my mother has her turn for a toast. Another shot. Two more minutes and it is my turn. They tell me to do the toast in English (one of my nephew’s down from Ashgabat translates for my family) and I end the toast with Happy New Year’s (in Turkmen). One more shot. The bottle is finally empty and I figure I’m safe. I continue to eat my soup and all of the other foods accompanying dinner, then I pull out my camera and start to take pictures of my family members which naturally leads to a family portrait which I gladly take. Then we sit for a while and the alcohol that I drank in ten minutes is finally hitting my blood when my sister-in-law’s father shows up and my father opens up another bottle of vodka. I must say, however, that I was never pressured to drink the alcohol. I was always poured a shot and even one of my sisters would only sip at it each time a toast occurred. The boys went outside and began to light firecrackers and run around the neighborhood setting them off and generally scaring people like me. I had planned to stay up with my family until they went to bed, assuming they would stay up till midnight, but the alcohol, all of the Turkmen (and Russian tv), as well as my ever pervading stomach ache and muscle aches only allowed me to make it until 10:45 at which point I turned in, laid out my bed on the ground and settled in to (hopefully) sleep through the night. I was woken up at 12:30 by firecrackers outside my window as well as yelling. Then again at 2 by similar sounds and again several more times but those were because I’ve been having trouble sleeping not due to New Year’s festivities.

The final exciting part of the holiday is that I get days off work. So I can spend time with my family and watch a lot of dvd’s and read a lot of books. Originally I was told I got the 1st off. So, I showed up to work on the 31st and the nurse whose office is across from mine told me to come and talk with her so I did. When the talking was winding down an hour later I told her I was going to go do some work and she told me we weren’t doing any work that day. So when we all went home for lunch they told me not to come back. I then clarified that I was supposed to be back on the 2nd for work. I was informed that the 2nd was a holiday and that we were going to work on the 3rd as a normal work day and that the 4th (Sunday) was a makeup day for the 2nd. It was all very confusing but I did get several days off of work and had a chance to relax and enjoy myself and spend some time with my family.

Pickles and Leaving Herrikgala

Pickles, Pickled and more!
I enjoy a good pickle as much as the next person, in fact when I was little I loved pickles so much I screamed for a good 20 minutes until I received said pickle. (The tantrum may have had more to do with the fact that my mom didn’t understand what I wanted rather than unwillingness to provide me with a pickle. I called ‘pickles’ ‘buckles’ which caused much confusion) In Türkmenistan there is an abundance of pickles and for that matter pickled substances. I am sure most of you have had pickled cucumbers and many people may have experienced pickled cabbage (more commonly referred to as sour kraut). But have you had the pleasure of pickled tomatoes? This is a treat in which one doesn’t eat the outside skin and instead bites a small hole at one end and sucks or slurps the pickled inside guts of the tomato out of. What about pickled eggplant stuffed with strange spices? Again you don’t generally eat the skin of the eggplant and I personally avoid the filling as it tastes like eating a strange concoction of spices from the container. But the inside guts of the eggplant do provide a nice treat. Have you had the pleasure of munching on pickled carrots? Here we enjoy it as a side salad for many meals. What about pickled garlic? This one is totally exciting! The pungent garlic taste has disappeared leaving you with a mellow hint of garlic and all the pleasures of toxic breath for the remainder of the day. I have also had the pleasure of eating pickled peppers (both green and hot).
Regardless of how much I enjoy all of the above on occasion there is one pickled treat I cannot seem to get enough of: pickled heat (this name is entirely my own creation made up on the spot and is in no way representative of the actual name of this treat). This side salad/condiment consists of carrots, tomatoes, garlic, onion, and red peppers that are medium spice. This is made into some sort of a mush and then pickled. It is absolutely amazing!
So, the moral of the story is that although I can’t seem to eat a whole lot of most Turkmen foods I am consuming a lot of pickled foods and hopefully I will learn how to pickle and could bring back a sweet hobby when I return to the states!
Last night in Herrikgala…
I don’t have too many thoughts on my last evening in Herrikgala (technically my second to last day of training). I am mostly really excited to get to site and to get through all of the goodbyes that I have ahead of me. I have given my gifts and said a lot of my goodbyes but I will probably be seeing a lot of the people (host family members and training counterparts) I’ve already said goodbye to on Friday for our swearing in. And then I’ll have to say goodbye to my fellow trainees in Herrikgala. It has been a series of ups and downs and the five other people in my village have been instrumental in my survival from day to day.
Once I arrive at site we will have a 3 or 4 day holiday. I’m still trying to figure out what the holiday is and why we have it but I have heard it involves swinging in these super dangerous swings to symbolically shake off the bad…I think. I have a koýnek (Turkmen dress) waiting for me. Which will be exciting, I just hope that it isn’t too ugly…there are many koýneks that are rather unfortunate looking. On the other hand there are a lot of koýneks that are beautiful! We will see which mine is. If I like the seamstress I’ll have her make another one for me out of the fabric I already have. She could also put darts in the other koýnek I got for free from the Peace Corps Office from some other volunteer who was leaving.