Hindustan is Delicious

I don't know how they do it, but every single bit of food I eat here just knocks me off my feet.

The culinary art of Indian cuisine is incredible...

Oh wonderful food. I don't want to think about how sad I will be when this vacation ends.

Poverty

Nothing could have prepared me for the level of poverty that I see here.

This country is so immensely overpopulated and people just have nowhere to go.

Seeing homelessness in LA, New York and San Francisco is nothing compared to the amount of people sleeping on the streets here. Experiencing poverty in Turkmenistan is absolutely nowhere near the intensity of the situation here.

Never, have I ever seen such immense poverty at such a high level. Never have I ever seen such destitution as I see here.

It sounds like a cliche, but this country is slowly changing my outlook on this world and my thoughts as to what I will do in the future. Reading and watching this on television, and then having multitudes of disfigured, starving children reach into your pockets, begging for anything you can give them are on opposite sides of the spectrum.

Life here is mindblowingly indescribable.

Bombastic Bombay

Arriving in Delhi I wasn't really prepared for the madness that would ensue afterwards, because being the extremely well-planned, organized Peace Corps volunteers we are, we didn't do anything for this vacation except purchase plane tickets.

So sitting in the travel agent's office on Sunday afternoon in an effort to figure out how to get to Goa, the nice man gave us the grim news.

"I'm sorry, madam. All trains are booked."

"Do you have any flights available?" we asked.

"The only flight we have is a jet and the cost is very expensive."

"What about Mumbai?" we asked. "Can we go there?"

"I have already checked for you, madam. There is nothing available."

At this I sunk down lower in my chair and put my head in my hands.

"Well can you drive us there?" I asked.

At this the man threw back his head and laughed out loud.

"I have not permission to drive outside the district, madam. If you like, you can come to my house for New Year's Eve."

So we wandered down the street, dejected and sad until we found an internet cafe in which we used to find three cheap, available tickets on the next flight out to Mumbai.

But, as fate would have it, our flight was delayed at least three hours due to fog. So we sat and watched as the lines of people stood to board their flights to...where? Goa!

I jumped up and ran over to the SpiceJet ticket counter.

"Hi!" I said. "I just happened to notice this flight is leaving for Goa. That's where we want to go...can we change our flight?"

"Madam, this flight is already boarding. That is not possible," he said.

"But...I mean...if someone decides not to show up, could you just give me a heads up?"

"Madam you must wait for your flight. You are going to Mumbai."

"Fine," I said.

Later we noticed that our flight to Mumbai was heading to Goa after our stop.

"Excuse me," I asked again. "Our flight is going to Goa after Mumbai...can we just stay on the plane and go also?"

"Madam, there are no seats available on that flight. You are going to Mumbai."

And so it goes...we arrived in Mumbai, a plethora of beauty and amazement.

Nothing beats this place...I could spend years here and not come close to exploring as much as I'd like to. The food, the gorgeous atmosphere, this country is amazing.

Next stop: GOA!!!!!!!

Three Tickets to Paradise

In twelve hours I will be on a plane to India.

I'm going out of my mind with excitement.

New Years Eve in Goa, the Taj Mahal, curry, curry and more curry...

I can't wait :)

Christmas in Yoloten

December 26, 2008

For two months I've been planning a Christmas party- canning tomato sauces, freezing vegetables, etc- so that we wouldn't only be eating what's in season. I wanted it to be truly special, something that would include volunteers, my host family, students, and local friends, and it all worked out beautifully.

We spent Christmas Day baking cookies and making food, singing along to Christmas music and running around trying to get everything done. Then later a bunch of my students showed up with a giant cake singing me happy birthday- it was adorable!

We created a gingerbread house, danced, exchanged presents, and all my friends made me personalized Christmas ornaments for my birthday - it was a blast! It went on till 3am and the next day my host mother was marveling at how we Americans have parties.

"You are all talking so much!" she laughed. "You're talking, and laughing, and playing games, and it's so interesting! Here we just eat and dance, and then sit and drink tea, and it's always the same. But you guys are all over the place! It was so much fun!"

I still miss home, and I still miss sitting on a sofa in a warm home with the smell of home-cooked food and cocktails and big Christmas trees and stockings and American food, but i'm lucky to be where I am for the time being.

I love the holidays.

Turkeys Turkeys and more Turkeys

The time finally arrived yesterday, Thanksgiving morning, for us to end the lives of the turkeys my friend in the next village over had been raising for months.

I arrived in the early morning to find both turkeys already, and the plucking process about half-way through. But everyone had a sad look on their faces and the first thing out of Halley's mouth was, "We had a problem."

"What's that?" I asked. The turkeys looked fine to me (it's not every day that I examine dead turkeys)

"A wild dog took off with the head of one of our turkeys. He took most of the breast meat with him."

After all that work...months of pumping these turkeys full of garlic and healthy food, a dog came and ruined it all.

But it was okay...we cut around the area where he chewed, plucked off the rest of the feathers and cooked those suckers up and it was an absolutely fantastic Thanksgiving.

I am so grateful to be here. :)

HINDISTAN!!!!!!!!!!

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!!!

My paperwork for a visa to India has been accepted and in just six weeks I'm off.

I usually have such bad luck at embassies...but this was a golden experience.

Maybe it was because we're American...

Maybe it's because we smiled a lot...

Or maybe it's because I kept gawking over the girl at the front desks' hot new boots.

Who knows?

But I've got the golden ticket...

Just Gross

I just spent eleven hours on the train, sharing a compartment with a man who had severe sleep apnea.

It sounded as though he was going to choke on himself and die...

The wailing, nasal bellows are still wafting through my ears.

Oh these unforgettable experiences...how they shape my patience.

Success is Golden

November 7, 2008

I was sitting in my English club yesterday looking around and I started thinking, “Is my life fulfilled? Am I happy with my work? Am I happy here?”

And I listened to my students practicing their past tense verbs and continually repeating things we had gone over during the past few weeks, and I thought about how enriching the experience was, overall. I thought about how far they’ve come over time and how far I’ve come during this past year.

I realized something yesterday…a little phenomenon is happening in Yoloten: something I like to call PROGRESS.

And it’s just fantastic, in every way, shape and form.

Absolutely fulfilled…definitely enriched…almost magical.

Still Number Two

November 5, 2008

Everywhere in Turkmenistan is different, and certainly my experiences aren’t the same as others in other parts of the country.

And being American gives me special privileges also, I know. People often want to help me out, talk to me, etc.

But sometimes it’s really hard to be a woman out here, and I’m reminded of this from time to time. It’s those instances when I must sit in the back of a car even if the front seat is open, when I’m the last served in a shop full of male customers and when my vodka shot glasses are removed from my place at the table at weddings that make me say oh yeah…I’m a woman and that’s tough here.

I also don’t like watching my male American friends laugh and shake hands with new people we meet while I just slightly nod my head in acknowledgement.

I was walking home with my Tartar friend tonight and she asked me to stop in a small shadow on the street corner so she could smoke a cigarette without anyone seeing her.

About ninety percent of men here smoke, but if a woman were to do so it would be the greatest scandal.

“I just wish I could be free,” she told me. “I want to wear shorts and cute shirts without everyone saying I’m a prostitute. I’d like to walk down the street and smoke a cigarette without people saying that I’ll never find a husband.”

“Time changes everything,” I told her.

“Ahhh,” she said. “Takи дeлa.

Such is life.

YES WE CAN!

November 5, 2008

Today during my Advanced English Club, on the faded, old blackboard in my classroom, I wrote, “Idiom for today: BREAK THAT GLASS CEILING!!!!”

I have to say that I felt special during Obama’s speech when he mentioned the many people out around the obscure corners of the world crowding around satellite radios and gathering together with other forms of communication to hear the news.

I felt special as I talked with my students about the history of the United States, and the importance of never giving up.

I felt special encouraging my students to make the impossible possible. To not stop studying, to keep trying to continue their education, to make their dreams come true.

YES WE CAN.

Bouncing Back

October 23, 2008

Being sick last week left me angry, frustrated and constantly in the outhouse, but I’ve recovered and am moving forward in full force recovery mode.

Gastric calamities will not get me down.

Things are looking up in every sense of my being…my students are studying hard for the TOEFL exam, the FLEX test is coming up soon, and I’m planning a trip to India this winter, which will be amazing.

We bought two huge turkeys for our Thanksgiving dinner and have been feeding them tons so they get nice and fat in time for the feast. We were scared at first because they started attacking each other, but now they’re friends and I’m VERY thankful for this.

I’m also thankful for the generous person who left a copy of O Magazine in the PC office…and even more thankful for the awesome pumpkin pie recipe inside.

It was soooooo good.

At least I might be able to get a job in a bakery when I go back home…making pies is now one of my favorite things to do.

A year ago I would have never thought such a thing. Time really changes everything, doesn’t it?

Funky Town

October 16, 2008

I’m officially in a funk.

I thought of this today as I laid down in my room, once again ignoring the stack of Russian books to the side, the half-finished lesson plans in a pile, and the pile of clothes that seriously need to be washed.

This week I ignored my Russian teacher’s calls, I ignored my fifth form class completely, I ignored my host family when they asked me to come hang out with them, and I decided not to go hang out with my American friends in the city like I do every week.

And today, as I sat down to watch “Hairspray” for the 18th time this week, I realized I was truly pathetic.

I either need a big kick in the ass or a smack in the face.

Maybe both.

Ashgabat Never Sleeps

I've been here for one year and I will openly admit I now truly love Russian pop.

I don't know how I lived without it for so many years.

One Year Down...

I cannot believe I've been in this country for one whole year.

I have not done nearly enough yet...it feels as though it seriously just flew by.

One year is gone...I have fifteen months to go...

New volunteers will be here in about seventeen hours.

Time flies when you're having fun. It also flies when you're still complaining about language skills, studying for GREs and trying to make great pasta noodles.

Livin the life.

I Smell Bacon, I Smell Grease

September 16, 2008


People give me things all the time here…a handful of walnuts, some candies, a piece of cake, a somsa (meat pie), and I never really question what the food I’m nourishing myself with consists of.

I’ve eaten so many different things out here that eating something strange doesn’t really phase me.

So when another teacher excitedly pulled me aside during class and opened up a plastic bag full of delicious-smelling meat, I said sure I’ll take a piece. It was saturated in a thick sauce, and she told me again and again what it was exactly, but I had never heard the word before so I just assumed it was no big deal.

Then when I was at home cutting a piece off later in the evening I realized it was different from other meats.

Probably because it wasn’t meat.

I was still curious, so I put a nice big fat piece in my mouth…but something was a little strange about this foreign object I was chewing.

Afterward I looked up the word she had said during class a few hours earlier.

“FAT”, the dictionary said. “PIG FAT” …”LARD.”

So I had a nice chunk of pig fat for dinner.

I feel gross.

What to Send…What to Send…

September 16, 2008

I sometimes get emails from people asking me what they can send to help out over here, so I thought I’d write a blog about it.

Things that would be helpful, if you have any types of these things hanging around unused at home:

Games (anything that would be helpful to educational development, especially) like Scrabble, Taboo, Balderdash, and others. And games that don’t require a ton of English to play would be cool. Like Uno cards maybe?

Frisbees (they LOVE ultimate Frisbee out here)

Books (children’s or young adult- nothing too difficult)

Any types of short stories, poems or plays (junior high level, nothing to difficult) found online printed out (8 copies would be really cool…it’s expensive to print and Xerox anything here)

Honestly, I think that last one would be the best way to help out, if you have the time to do a Google search for some stories, poems or plays online and also any discussion questions to go along with it.

I am completely and totally aware and adapting to the idea of using my own creativity to create an interesting learning environment, and trust me I’ve done my share of adaptation here.

Every time I get ahold of a magazine of some sort it is turned into a lesson plan…every piece of cardboard from a package I receive is used to create fake clocks, or other types of visual aids for my students. Every piece of paper is double used for something else and I keep every cover of the notebooks I go through so that can be used also. I’ve spent hours drawing, coloring, cutting and gluing stuff together for lesson plans.

I’ve dealt with having no chalk, no books, no classroom, even…they’re just things that have to be dealt with.

But sometimes I get frustrated because my brain can only be stretched so far…which is why volunteers rely on each other and the outside world so much for ideas.

Here’s the address:

Angela Generoso/PCV
Mailbox 24
Central Post Office
Mary City, 745400
Turkmenistan

And a nice little story for ya:

Two frogs are in a jar of cream, and they try to jump out but fail. One frog says its hopeless and sinks to the bottom. The other keeps trying until the cream turns to butter, which lifts her to the top so that she can step out of the jar.

Keep on, keeping on…

Do you have the time…to listen to me whine…

September 10, 2008

Songs to describe my life at this time last semester:

“She’s Gonna Break Soon” by Less Than Jake

“I Wanna Be Sedated” by the Ramones

“You Can’t Always Get What You Want” by The Rolling Stones

“Stronger” by Kanye West


Songs to describe my life right now:

“Imagine” by John Lennon

“Blowing in the Wind” by Bob Dylan

“Waiting on the World to Change” by John Mayer

And everything and anything by Fergie

I feel like everything has just swirled around and changed and hit me upside the head with reality and lack thereof at the same time.

I go through the weirdest pangs and sensations here. I will go for days thinking that I can’t imagine not being a part of these people’s lives, and that two years is not nearly long enough to be here.

And then today I had the weirdest craving for a McDonalds cheeseburger and all I wanted was to go home.

I never even ate cheeseburgers that often back home.

I don’t know why I’m so weird.

But the connection is real. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be here for two years and not truly connect with someone. For me that one person has been my host mother…I owe her my entire Peace Corps experience. I have never met someone with such a humongous heart of gold, and I know there’s a reason we came into each other’s lives.

Fifteen months is a long, long time.

And at the same time, not nearly long enough.

I’ll Have a Bear, Please

September 7, 2008

Walking into my fifth form class during the first day of school was incredibly uplifting. I can’t imagine how a person wouldn’t smile seeing those 27 adorable, grinning faces.


“HOW ARE YOU????” I asked.


“GOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!!!!!!!” They yelled giving me a thumbs up.


That’s why I love my job.


One of my advanced students came in to class this week and said, “I am so exhausted today!” and I was crazy with pride because we had just gone over extreme adjectives this week.


It’s incredible being around these students. I asked them this week, “What is ideal?”


And their answers were as far and outlandish as you could possibly imagine.


As for the ones who are struggling and working their butts off to get to a more advanced level, I have extremely high hopes. Some of them never miss a lesson once and I just want for them to not lose interest.


On the other hand, I’m getting really tired of explaining the verb “to be” and scolding kids for saying “beer” when they mean to say “bear” among other things. I’ve repeated myself over and over again and will continue to do so.


But I guess that’s part of what I’m here to do.


Overall I can’t complain about the little things…how it’s really hard for me to get a classroom often…how people steal my chalk…kids who come into lessons just to chat with their friends…and I really hate it when people constantly come to the door asking to talk with me about lessons when I’m in the middle of giving a lesson.


It’s irritating, but I guess the overall picture is good.

All My Dreams are Just Islands in the Sky

September 6, 2008


I went to a conference in Almaty two months ago and it was so interesting to hear these teachers talk about the importance of increasing kids’ interest in reading.


But how the hell can that happen if there’s no books?


The US embassy allows its centers to make one request for books a year, which is a little irritating.


All I can think about are the millions and trillions of books just sitting around in libraries and schools across the US. We have three centers here in Turkmenistan and luckily there’s one in Mary, but when I asked what book sets we had available, I was given “My Antonia” which is way above their heads.


I’m definitely not complaining, because for one, at least I have advanced students, and secondly, I’m lucky to have any books at all.


I just wish a set of 7 educational, interesting books would appear magically in front of me and I could start a book club for these kids.


Maybe I’ll write a letter to Oprah…

Home Sweet Home

It's good to be home.

LIVE!!!!!!!!! From Kazakhstan!

As I sit in Almaty National Airport waiting to see if I can get on a flight back tonight, I'd like to reflect on how lovely the past week and a half has been...

Kyrgyzstan is beautiful...I can see why it's called the Switzerland of Central Asia. All of Central Asia has similar characteristics as far as food, culture, language, clothes, etc, yet the differences are pretty funny. I know spending a week in a country doesn't make me an expert, but this is what I noticed...


Getting a taxi in Kyrgyzstan:

Walk up to the car with the big yellow "TAXI" sign on top. Tell the driver where you want to go. Get in.

Getting a taxi in Turkmenistan:

Stand on the side of the road and put your hand out. Tell the driver where you need to go and hope he'll take you. Argue about the price for a few minutes. Get in.

Using internet in Kyrgyzstan:

Walk into the internet cafe and sit down in front of one of the 25 computers. Use internet. Pay and leave.

Using internet in Turkmenistan:

Pray over and over that the wind that day hasn't disrupted internet access. Walk into the internet cafe. Wait 45 minutes for one of the six computers. Sit down in front of a computer. Wait another twenty five minutes for the first page to load. Give up. Pay and leave.

Buying food in Kyrgyzstan:

Walk into the grocery store. Select food items and proceed to the checkout. Pay and leave.

Buying food in Turkmenistan:

Get up early because the bazaar is only open until noon. Wander around finding fruits and vegetables in season and compare everyone's prices. Buy an extra plastic bag because of course you forgot to bring some. Say hi to all the venders you know and talk about how good their kids are doing in class. Promise to teach about five new people English. Browse through the new material and discuss getting a new dress made. Buy an ice cream and make any last minute purchases. Give extra change to the blind man and the pregnant lady who always sit outside the bazaar. Go home.

It's a beautiful life.

Waiting...for a Visa...

Waiting waiting for a visa
Eating Eating lots of pizza
I'm getting fat from all this food
But it's just so so good

I'm stuck in Bishkek until next week
My outlook is turning bleak
Maybe I'll drink lots of liquor
But that will just make me sicker

I really really miss my friends
I can't wait till this trip ends
I shouldn't complain, what's done is done
But I just miss the Kara Kum

Animosity

Naturally the Kazakh embassy misprinted my visa...I applied for two entries so I could get back to Almaty and fly out back to Ashgabat.



Unfortunately they decided I'd only get one.



So I spent the morning at the embassy...AGAIN. I waited AGAIN. I was sent out in the city to the appropriate bank to pay the fee AGAIN. After returning and waiting in line AGAIN I was turned away AGAIN because my passport and visa copies were on two separate papers.



How could I have thought they would be able to look at TWO pieces of paper instead of ONE?



So then I had a nervous breakdown and freaked out...calmed myself down a bit...went on a search for a copy machine.



Upon returning I waited AGAIN and when I finally got back up to that damn window I was told I could not, in fact, get a transit visa to Almaty. I must have a TOURIST visa. And I also must write a letter to the consulate detailing the reason for my visit and all the lovely sites I'd like to see in the Republic of Kazakhstan.



So I wrote the letter. Signed it. Shoved it back through the window to the greatest jerk on the planet.



He glared at me and told me to come back Friday at 6:30...making sure I'd miss my flight and be completely stuck in Bishkek.



He handed me a declaration form and I started to have another nervous breakdown.



He laughed in my face.



I am so tired of people being mean to me. I want to go home.

We LOVE Americans!

Standing on the street at 1:30 in the morning in Ashgabat my friend and I searched desperately for someone to take us to the airport. She was on her way to Turkey, and I was going to Bishkek.

Five minutes later a group of three boys pulled up in a blue BMW, laughing wildly with their music blaring.

"WHERE YOU GO????????" They yelled.

"To the airport," we said. "Will you take us?"

"Ahhhhhh TOO FAR!" they replied and took off.

So we waited until five minutes later they sped back around, smiled widely and said, "We changed our minds! GET IN! You're American!!!!!!"

We jumped into the car and took off with what turned out to be the three coolest guys I've ever met in Turkmenistan.

"We love Americans! We're so glad you're here! We'll take you for free!"

And so the ride went like that, a non-stop conversation of broken Turkmen, Russian and English. We arrived to the airport and they got out of the car, helped us through security, and offered to stay and wait or bring me back to their house to hang out for awhile since my flight didn't leave for a few more hours.

"Really, I'm good! It's okay!" I assured them. We exchanged phone numbers and decided we would definitely hang out when I got back to Turkmenistan.

"ANGELA we'll call you when you get back!!! We friends!" they said. "We LOVE Americans!"

Where else will a car full of really cool guys give you a free ride all the way to the airport and make you laugh your butt off the whole entire time because they're just so damn awesome?

I love this country.

Who needs a visa?

Packed in a room half the size of my kitchen, I stood amongst forty other hopeful travellers last Tuesday trying to get a transit visa for Kazakhstan to get to Bishkek.

No lines, no organization, just mounting anger, discomfort, and one great cesspool of impatience.

An elderly woman was slapped and pushed back by two younger Russian ladies and when her husband tried desperately to rush to her aid he also was pushed back and told to back off.

These people weren't messing around.

The second one person left the few inches of window space, ten others smashed themselves forward in pursuit of being next, causing the greatest debaucle I have seen in a long, long time.

Then people started screaming at each other, pushing, smacking, shoving and more fights broke out.

For almost four hours I waited among them all, gasping in horror at the Russian curses flying, and praying that I would get my chance at the window.

Then the largest man in Turkmenistan stepped through the door holding about fourteen documents and passports in his hand. He smelled of cows, sour milk and sweat and he was heading STRAIGHT FOR ME.

I was trapped...backed in a corner behind this massive fellow, against the wall with my hand clamped over my nose and mouth to stop the smell. He was working his way up to the window, using his weight as his best weapon.

Finally enough was enough. The poor man working at the window threatened to close down and no one would get their visas unless we shut up and behaved.

So it worked...an hour later I got my paperwork through the window, smiled widely and asked him if I could pick up my visa on Thursday instead of Wednesday.

"Ohhhh please, PLEASE, oh my GOD, PLEEEAAASE come back Thursday!!!!!!!" he barked through the window as he grabbed the next person's paperwork.

Cool and confident I returned to the embassy early this morning after an eleven hour train ride into the capital, praying over and over that my visa would be ready.

I peered through the little window when the crowd parted mid-morning and asked him in broken Russian if my visa was ready.

"WHAT?????" he yelled. "Why didn't you come YESTERDAY?????"

He picked it up off the pile to his right and I grabbed it out of his hand as soon as I had the chance. I gave him a wink and skipped triumphantly out of the building.

I am on my way.

Heat Heat and More Heat

Turkmenistan is hot.

Really really really hot.

I drink 4 liters of water a day and eat at least three ice creams.

The sun really hurts.

I miss winter.

Back to The Daily Grind

July 19, 2008

The past few weeks have been fantastic, but now it has all come to an end.

I return to Turkmenistan refreshed, revitalized, with nasty gastric calamities due to Turkmen Air food.

It's alright...nothing I haven't experienced before.

Over the past few weeks I have:

Eaten frog

Chased after a mugger

Tried chewing tobacco

Had a facial AND pedicure

Met Jerry Springer

Eaten crap soup

Held a python

Roamed through the waterfalls of Vietnam

Tried every type of shellfish SouthEast Asia has to offer

I love being on vacation, but it's nice to be back, speaking Turkmen with the locals, reminiscing with friends and dreaming of my next trip.

Three more weeks until Bishkek...

You Live WHERE?

Nobody knows where Turkmenistan is, and few know what Peace Corps is and what we do, so for the past two weeks on our vacation, Alice and I have had to explain this over and over again to every single person we meet.

Locals usually just nod their head and give us a funny look, but other westerners have had much more interesting reactions.

I started noting the ones I liked best:

"PEACE CORPS???? What, are you like putting up white flags all over the place or something?"

"What the HELL is that?"

"What? Is that even a real place?"

"Peace Corps? So is there like a war going on or something?"

"Alice and Angela...you two are like a bloody pair of batteries, aren't ya?"

"So...like part of Afghanistan?"

Last Night...

Last night the Sailing Club blew up with the Miss Universe after party- never have I ever been surrounded by so many ridiculously tall, insanely beautiful women.



In Turkmenistan people are always wanting my attention, taking my photo, yelling my name, everywhere I go. Last night I was the one taking photos, mingling in the background, staring at everyone, enjoying the scenery.



I can't describe the entirety of the evening, but I think Alice summed it up nicely with this phrase:



"I've never seen so many iPhones in one place."



Rich celebrities are interesting people...they were afraid of Vietnamese bottled water, wore their collars popped up and opted for San Pelligrino. They yelled at the Vietnamese waiters, complained about the heat and one of the Miss Universe hairdressers even said how surprised he was that the pagaent was here.

"I mean, Vietnam really isn't your top tourist destination," he said.

I wonder what life must be like inside that bubble. I honestly met a man last night who told me he spent $5000 on a pen once. Granted, he was one of the electricians working on the show, and pretty much the coolest person I've ever met in my life, but I can't fathom what that must be like.

I think I'd like to see what a $5000 pen looks like. The pens in Turkmenistan cost about eight cents and usually last about 12 minutes.

Welcome Miss Universe

July 14, 2008

My life right now feels like a dream.

The sky exploded with fireworks last night kicking off the Miss Universe pagaent here in the gorgeous beach city of Nha Trang, Vietnam. Donald Trump and company have all arrived, along with Jerry Springer, Mel B and an insane amount of beautiful women from all across the globe.

At a beach party last night an English dude walked up to me and said, "So, what country are you representing?"

It was positively adorable.

"I represent Austria," I said with a smile and a really bad accent.

"Well Austria will surely win," he replied.

The last few days here on the beach have been far too much fun. We laid around in the sun all day and swam in the clearest water I've ever seen, and a little old lady cooked us some shellfish right on the sand. We've been consuming tons of fresh, tropical fruit and swimming, eating tons of seafood, dancing all night, loving every minute of this place.

I don't believe a country has ever stolen my heart as much as Vietnam has. I absolutely love it here.

Saigon You Take My Breath Away

I loved Cambodia, but Vietnam has stolen my heart.

Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) has been amazing...I could absolutely live here.

I met a pompous English fellow last night. He told me that we crazy Americans have butchered the good English language.

"We GAVE you the bloody dialect and you just rip it apart!" he said. "Nobody in America can speak proper bloody English."

I continued to listen to his rant against Americans...

"You Americans are so fat," he said. "In England we have large people but not like you Americans. How can you let yourself GET that way???"

It went on...

"In America you're so damn picky about your food. You go into a restaurant and it takes you a lifetime to order because you're so particular about every little thing. In England they just bring you a bloody plate of food! And you eat it!"

"We have the strongest currency in the world, us English people. We GAVE the world English- we never learn a second language. What's the point? The whole world speaks English."

This was my favorite: "You Americans think the whole bloody world revolves around you. You're just a bunch of wankers."

Ohhhhh how that made me laugh. I love people.

Ankor WHAT???

July 9, 2008

Cambodia is amazing.

After the bus ride to the border, we met up with some awesome guys from Amsterdam and together we worked to find a taxi to take us to Siem Reap. Unfortunately that process took about an hour, but after a long negotiation, and an incredible journey across the practically non-existant road for four hours, we arrived.

We hung out with our new Dutch friends throughout our stay in Siem Reap and it was an absolute blast, but the most wonderful thing I will take away from my Siem Reap experience will be the amazing temples of Ankor Wat.

We started exploring the temples around 5:00am so we could be there for the sunrise. The incredible detail that went into the construction of these structures was just mindblowing, and I honestly don't think I've seen anything cooler in my life. Don't mean to hype it up, but Cambodia all-around rocks.

The entire city was alive that night, dancing on tables, having an amazing time singing along to American songs I haven't heard in nine months. We stuffed ourselves with ridiculously cheap spring rolls, seafood and cocktails, and at one point the bartender where we were at took me aside and said, "You know, I've seen my share of really out of control people, but for some reason, I don't know why, tonight EVERYBODY is OUT OF THEIR MIND!"

It was true. We were all out of our minds. I thought of that this morning as I fell into the seat of the bus to Phenom Penh after about two hours of sleep.

After arriving in the capital, we burst into the Vietnam embassy thirty minutes before they were closing and some random dude snatched up an application, my passport and said, "You take too long. I help you," and began applying for my visa for me.

Ten minutes later we had our visas.

Next destination: Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.

Fourteen Hours and Counting...

July 5, 2008

Yesterday was quite the memorable Fourth of July...we ate copius amounts of watermelon, cooked curry, and toasted with some amazing Hungarian liquor in a small Russian village.

Today Alice and I are just counting down the hours till our plane leaves...I can't believe tomorrow I'll be in Thailand...then Cambodia, then Vietnam.

I'm going to eat so much shrimp Southeast Asia will have a shortage.

Hot Child in the City

July 30, 2008

Today I ate sushi, went into TWO different grocery stores, and attempted to call America.

Unfortunately, although making phone calls is an easier experience, it's also an extremely expensive one.

It's alright though...I have all this internet access to make up for it.

Ugh...I ate too much cheese today and now my stomach hurts. But I'm really excited that I had the ability to truthfully write that.

I love Almaty.

A Return to Normalcy

June 29, 2008

What is the greatest thing about spending five days in Almaty?

I feel beautiful.

I’m not covered in dust and sweat. I’m not tired and lethargic because of the heat. I’m not asked a million questions every day. Nobody has asked me to either teach them English or take them back with me to America.

Over the last few days I have:

Eaten seafood for lunch and dinner every night.

Worn makeup.

Worn jeans.

Gone to a movie theater.

Had a Jack and Coke.

Felt the mist and drizzle of a light rain on my face.

Eaten cheese every day.

Checked my email every day. (Usually TWICE!)

Used an ATM.

Eaten sushi.

Gone swimming.

Been stuck in traffic.

Slept in a bed with a mattress.

Peed more than once a day.

Showered.

I feel clean, refreshed, and beautiful. I’m not sweating out all my liquids and I’m not complaining about how dirty my feet are. Because they’re not.

Every volunteer has their own set of problems, but after talking to the PC volunteers in Kazakhstan I realized how incredibly unique and interesting my own Peace Corps experience is in Turkmenistan. Many had indoor plumbing and some of them even have internet at home! Pretty awesome!

Me: So how much does material cost in KZ?

Them: Material? You guys don’t buy your clothes in stores?

Me: Ummm….clothing stores?

Or:

Them: What are the movie theaters like in T-stan?

Me: Ummm…movie theaters?

I could sit here all day and write about my hardships and frustrations, as everyone else could. But the past few days have opened my eyes and inspired me on a new level.

A Birthday Story

June 15, 2008

Today I was informed through a series of hectic messages at the last minute that I had to get to Ashgabat tomorrow morning. Irritated and pissed off, I dragged myself to the train station to learn there were only four tickets left for tonight’s journey and naturally everyone in the station charged the window and my pathetic attempt for a ticket was unsuccessful.

Defeated and angry I kicked rocks on the long walk home knowing I’d have to get up before dawn and pay a ridiculous sum of money for a taxi to get into the capital tomorrow morning.

I didn’t want to do anything…and I especially wasn’t interested in going to one of my student’s birthday parties that evening, but I had promised.

I showed up, tired and pissed off, and explained I wouldn’t stay long, that I was very tired and upset and had many things to do. Basically I told him over and over again that I was more important than spending a few hours with him and his family for his birthday.

For one, he was upset because none of his other friends had come. And secondly, who the hell was I to shove my irritation in the face of a kid on his birthday?

But I didn’t realize this at the time, and he told me sadly that this was turning out to be a very bad birthday. He was upset that I was upset.

And I realized that I was pawning off my negativity onto him, and on his BIRTHDAY for crying out loud. How low could I go?

I stepped into his house and was greeted warmly by one of the most gracious, kind-hearted families I’ve ever met in my life. My problems vanished immediately and I felt amazing being around these people. My spirits lifted within seconds and I immediately felt like an asshole for not seeing how much this meant to him. Just being there made a huge difference in this kid’s life. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t even want to take a few hours out of my life to do this.

Being here does make a difference…it happens in small doses when I’m not looking, but it really does happen.

Blowing in the Wind

June 15, 2008


I thought I’d be at a higher level of success after six months here in Yoloten, but how is success measured?

My biggest accomplishment so far has been getting to work with all the English teachers this month. It seems small, but the fact that they’ve shown up consistently every day the teacher’s club is a fantastic success.

My other project ideas have been denied, and at first I was pretty upset but there will be others in the future. EVERY cloud has a silver lining…just have to look hard sometimes to find it.

I was pretty depressed over these past few weeks over the things that have been happening, but I realized as I was walking home yesterday that overall I really do love it here.

For every mean boy who calls me bad names, throws rocks at me and makes fun of me on the street there are over 20 sweet children and adults giving me hugs, thanking me for being here, and generally being kind.

I have to see the good in these situations. I have to find the good in these people who don’t understand what it’s like to be a foreigner. Otherwise I’ll bury myself in anger and never want to talk to anyone again.

No News is Good News

June 10, 2008

Well the dollar is back up a tiny bit so I guess things aren’t all that bad but the rumors just keep on flying.


Local plane tickets recently skyrocketed to about $17 when they were only $1.50 before. At least the lines at the aerokassa won’t be as long.


International tickets went down thankfully, just in time for me to buy another ticket to vacate yet again this August. Whew!


The summer, so far, has been pretty uneventful. I teach for three hours in the morning, then spend the rest of the day studying, cooking and sleeping. I thought I’d take up a hobby and teach myself how to sew but I quickly realized that just because every Turkmen woman can do it, doesn’t mean I can.


The heat can drain the energy from my body on an average day. Maybe everyone should spend a year in the desert at some point in their life…yes that’s a very good idea…

Down Down Down

The dollar has dropped...AGAIN.



This sucks more than anything that has ever sucked before.



I arrived October 3 and it was 24,000 to the dollar.



Today it has dropped to 10,000.



To give an idea of what this means...A Snickers bar that was once 40 cents is now a dollar. A taxi ride that was once one dollar is now two, and a kilo of tomatoes now costs about $1.50 when it was before about 40 cents.



Why why why does this keep happening?

Leaving On a Jet Plane

I'm going to Kazakhstan!!!!!!!

My proposal for the Central Asia Teachers of English Conference was accepted and I'm going to Almaty June 27-July 3!!!!!!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

What a Perfect Day

May 22, 2008

Today is a joyous day for the people of Yoloten because today was the day that Yoloten began to receive cell phone reception.

Cell phones that were once used only for the mere joy of photos and videos are now actually being used to talk, and people can be seen everywhere holding up their cell phones trying to find a signal.

One small step for the digital world, one giant leap for Yoloten.

Little Steps

May 17, 2008

A few months ago two guys in their twenties started coming to my English club. At first I thought they just came to laugh and point because the novelty of an American in their town is still pretty thick.

But they kept coming back, and have barely missed a day since.

Then one day I went to my sitemate’s school to ask him a question, and I saw the two of them in his English club.

“What’s their story?” I asked him later.

“One day you asked one of them a question on the street,” he replied. “Maybe you couldn’t find something or you were lost, who knows- it was awhile ago. But you couldn’t understand each other and you gave up and went on your way. He felt really bad because he couldn’t help you so he decided to learn English.”

So he decided to learn English.

Because a retarded American girl on the street couldn’t find where she could buy bananas. Or toilet paper. Who the heck knows.

But he decided to learn English.

CSI: Yoloten

May 13, 2008

Yesterday our doorbell was stolen. My host mother was pretty upset because it had been given to her for her birthday just a month and a half ago.

“Alright everyone,” my host brother said as he paced the living room. It was 10:30 at night. “Mom, make some tea. Angela will drink coffee. Let’s figure this out…we have to find out who did this.”

“Well whoever did it had to reach all the way up above the door so if it was a kid they have to be pretty tall,” I said.

“And they have to be pretty stupid because it’s not going to work unless you have the other piece from inside the house,” my host sister added.

We laughed as we imagined some stupid kid pressing the button repeatedly hoping the sound would come out.

“I just can’t believe they stole our DOORBELL!” my host mom said.

My host brother smiled and said, “It’s alright. I’ll call Agatha Christie and she’ll take care of this. We’re good friends. Angela, we’ll contact the FBI too, okay?”

So the Case of the Missing Doorbell begins.

I Love Taxis

May 7, 2008

My friend Halley and I were sitting in a taxi waiting to go to Mary this morning when an intoxicated, one-legged man hobbled his way into our car.

Did I say intoxicated?

I meant completely, beyond all belief, absolutely trashed.

As we began our journey into the city he snapped at Halley and I for talking.

“Shut up!” he slurred in Turkmen. “I have a headache!”

Immediately our cab driver, who was a friend of mine, jumped to our defense.

“Hey be quiet!” he warned him. The drunk man’s head was rolling around back and forth and occasionally dropping down into the driver’s right leg.

“These American girls are our guests. You have to be nice to them,” he told the drunkard.

So we drove on and the man passed out with his head hanging and flopping back and forth to the gear shifter and glove compartment.

“Angela guess what!” the driver said. “It’s my birthday this week!”

So immediately I started singing happy birthday and the driver woke up the drunkard so he could join in. Our drunk friend wasn’t happy about that and Halley and I immediately started laughing.

This pissed him off more than ever and he started screaming as loud as he could but he was so drunk that no one in the car could understand a word he was saying.

And so the rest of the ride was like this…Halley and I talking, the drunk man either trying to hold her hand or telling us to shut up, him passing out and knocking his head against the gear shifter, and him waking up and yelling incoherently.

Oh and at one point he nearly burned his fingers trying to light a cigarette.

The adventures keep on coming.

Look Out, General Mills

May 6, 2008

A few weeks ago in Ashgabat I found a box of cornflakes in a store and it was the absolute highlight of my life until I ran out. Every time I went to Mary City I scoured the bazaars and stores thinking that I just might find a box of cornflakes in one of them. You never know…it just might happen.

But every time I asked for cereal I was directed to where they kept boxes of baby food.

Then last Friday, sitting in a window in a small store in Mary City were five boxes of American cereal. It was absolutely beautiful and I got so excited I ran in the store and asked for the cereal.

Naturally I was directed to the baby food.

“IN THE WINDOW!!!” I explained.

They parted the curtains and took out the dusty items sitting in the window sill that have probably been sitting there for at least half a year.

“70,000 manat,” they told me when I asked the price.

Immediately my heart dropped. With the way prices have been rising recently there’s no way I could afford five whole dollars for a small box of cereal. Living on $120 a month is really hard sometimes.

But instead of getting pissed off about the situation I decided to do something about it. And I am proud to announce that yesterday I made my own cornflakes. They were more like corn chips than flakes, but it rocked.

Cost: $0

Taste: Fantastic

I can remember Turkmenistan as the days I learned how to milk a cow, translate phrases into three different languages consecutively, wash all my clothes by hand, and make cereal.

Seven Months

May 1, 2008

Seven months! I think it’s gone by pretty fast…or maybe that’s just because I’m so crazy busy.

Today my students wrote, “WE LAKE ANGELA!!!!” on the board. That was cute.

I started an activity club with my older kids a few weeks ago and except for my fourth form class, it’s pretty much my favorite time of the week now. And cooking club is debuting this week also so we’ll see how that goes. Of course they all want to make pizza.

My map project is still in my head and not on paper yet, but we will get there. At least the geography teachers are excited about working with me.

I can’t help but feel overwhelmed on a daily basis by all the things I want to do each and every day…I have a pile of books to read, a box of pictures, pens, papers and other stuff for English club projects that need to be sorted through and organized, lesson plans that need to be written, and all I want to do is study Russian and make a strawberry pie since they’re so beautifully in season now.

I am getting one hell of a tan out here…living in the desert is a phenomenal experience.

Heatwaves

April 29, 2008

It’s hard to imagine that just a few months ago we didn’t even use our refrigerator because it was so cold.

It’s also hard to imagine that I laughed when I was given sunblock with SPF 70 as a going away present last September.

Now it’s so hot that even food inside the refrigerator just can’t get cold enough.
It’s so hot that when one of the teachers at my school gave me a bottle of cold milk today she looked me fiercely in the eye and said, “GO STRAIGHT HOME AND BOIL THIS, NOW.” By the time I walked ten minutes to my home, it was already lukewarm.
And it’s only going to get worse.

I vow not to complain for the next four months about how much the heat sucks. But I have to say that it’s only the end of April and already hitting 100 degrees, and I have absolutely no idea what’s coming. I have absolutely no idea how to handle 130 degree weather.

My host brother and I sat outside today and stared at the garden as I moaned and groaned about how hot it was.

“This is nothing,” he said with a smile. “Just wait. In one month it’ll be so hot you won’t even be able to move.”

This Blog Has No Title

I spent eleven hours on a train this weekend to come to Ashgabat.

What I have learned:

After you pay a fine for breaking the rules on the train you must become friends with the man who made you pay the fine and drink much tea with him for the rest of the duration of the ride.

Talking in British accents makes train rides go faster.

The aerokassa is not a place for the weak-hearted.

Giving your drunk friend the key to the hotel room so she can go pass out early is a stupid idea because she will not wake up to let you back in and you will not get to sleep in a bed. Or a room, for that matter.

Showers are amazing. I already knew this, but they're even more amazing now.

The theme song from "Who's the Boss"

Beer, for some stupid reason, cost more in the warmer months.

After living in a small town a few hours north of Afganastan for three months, going to stores with huge amounts of selection is completely overwhelming.

Never, ever wait till the last minute to buy your train ticket home because you will be, so unbelievably S.O.L. and end up having to pay way more money than you have for a taxi.

VACATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Three hours in the aerokassa...

Three different fights between angry Russians who were cutting in the nonexistent line...

A huge argument with a group of pompous, Russian boys who wouldn't leave us alone...

A complete change of plans because of course the days we want aren't available...

An argument with the aerokassa lady...

11,920,000 manat...

TWO ROUND TRIP TICKETS TO SOUTHEAST ASIA.

Cambodia and Vietnam here we come. This summer is going to be insane :)

Success

April 15, 2008

For the past three months I’ve been thinking a lot about my purpose here…what projects I want to start thinking about at school…just in general how I can be effective. I’ve been nervous because I haven’t really felt like I’ve been successful here in my community yet. I have English Clubs that kids rarely attend anymore, I’m dealing with more and more situations which make my self-doubt rise, and my language skills are hardly where I want them to be.

But then last night my perspective changed.

My host mother and I were in a deep discussion and she said, “Angela, I think you were meant to come live here with our family. I think you were sent here by God.”

And I said, “REALLY!”

And she said, “Before you came, things were different.” She told me that she and my host brother used to fight all the time about all sorts of things but now things are a lot calmer. She also told me that before I came into their lives they never, ever ate vegetables.

“You have created a good climate in this house,” she said.

And that is one hell of a success story.

T-Stan Beauty

April 2, 2008

I can’t believe I’ve been here six months.

I also can’t believe I’ve gone this long without avocadoes.

Today a little frog came in with me to the outhouse. The last time this happened I completely freaked out. Now I can do my business just fine as he hops about.

This country grows more and more beautiful with each day… My favorite place is outside, watching the bees swarming the flowers, the cats on a search for food and the frogs hopping through the water. We have so many frogs it’s like the garden is alive at night, and I always worry I’m going to step on one in the darkness.

The darkness is another mystery…I’ve never seen so many stars before.

I can’t ever let myself forget how beautiful Turkmenistan is…how beautiful Yoloten is. No matter how frustrated and full of self-doubt I become, I can’t ever let myself forget how blessed I am to be here.

Madness at the Train Station

March 25, 2008

Sunday evening I spent the night on a train that was built around 1948. From Yoloten to Ashgabat it took roughly eleven hours. ELEVEN HOURS in a tiny compartment two doors down from the grosses toilet i've ever seen in my life.

It was a long eleven hours.

Then in an attempt to purchase a ticket back home yesterday I jumped into a mosh pit of people at the Ashgabat station and shoved my passport through the window like everyone else was doing.

Well the lady next to me wasn't cool with that.

She took the four passports in her hand, smacked my passport out of the way, shoving hers through the window in front screaming at me the whole time.

"I CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU," I sang triumphantly. Usually in situations of confrontation I shake and cry and can't handle it. But seeing that I couldn't understand her rudeness, it didn't affect me at all.

And when she was informed there were no tickets for her destination and she walked away defeated, I smiled at her, shoved my passport through the window and was walking successfully away with my ticket in hand in less than a minute.

Patience is the key to success. And train tickets.

Needing Friends in High Places

March 24, 2008

If anyone, anyone at all has an idea of how to make friends at the aerokassa, please, please let me know.

I am starting to think that there’s no way out of this country.

Even if you speak perfect Russian…perfect Turkmen, have perfect and legitimate affiliation with travel in Turkmenistan, it’s not easy to leave.

It all comes down to three women.

That’s right- you know who I’m talking about. The three aerokassa ladies that control EVERYTHING.

They glare from behind their little windows spitting out false information and ignoring requests for more.

Maybe a small gift would better my chances…a bribe of some sort…

There has to be a way for me to take a vacation this summer. There has to be a way to acquire an airline ticket.

What, I ask, is the key to an aerokassa woman’s heart?

Maybe a nice fruit basket…a box of chocolates…

Ideas are much appreciated. I must vacate, and if I can’t even get a damn price of a ticket out of these women then I haven’t a clue how I’m supposed to actually acquire one physically.

Veggies in the HOUSE

March 23, 2008

Fresh vegetables are all around us now that spring has arrived and to celebrate its glory I made a massive salad a couple days ago.

“You can’t eat that!” various members of my host family said as they saw what I was making.

“You’re going to EAT that without cooking it?” they would ask. “But, why?”

“Angela, that’s not food,” my host mother said disapprovingly.

I didn’t care. I ate it with such joy and enthusiasm you would have thought it was served on a crystal platter with a glass of chardonnay at my side.

The taste of raw vegetables inside my mouth was simply indescribable and I just smiled and chewed while everyone looked at me like I was from another planet.

“I’ve been here three months now,” I told them. “I’ve eaten your food for three months. I love it, it’s great, but I need this. I am to vegetables as you are to bread.”

“Yes, yes, we understand,” they said.

But they still think I’m nuts…and that’s quite alright.

:)

March 13, 2008


Today at the little Russian bakery by my school I dropped my sunglasses and when the sweet Russian lady behind the counter saw that they had broken, she said, “Oh no! I will take you to my brother.”

So we walked down the street to find her brother who took my sunglasses, fixed them and cleaned them off in less than two minutes.

The point to my story is not about the sunglasses though…I successfully had a conversation in Russian with this wonderful woman, and her brother. I’m pretty darn proud of myself right now.

Yesterday I was called into my director’s office and given a package of cookies and a letter from my friend who lives in a tiny village twenty minutes away. She told me later that she just saw a dude with a car and asked him if he was going to Yoloten. When he said yes, she handed him some money and the package asking to deliver it to me at the school.

It’s a perfect means of communication when phones don’t work.

I hopped in a taxi to visit her in the afternoon and was awestruck once again by the beautiful simplicity of the oba life. There’s only one street in her village…

There’s something about the peaceful aura of the oba that I truly love.

Oba for Life

March 8, 2008


I went to the oba today and it was awesome. We climbed on top of haystacks, played with chickens and made the cows very angry.

Life in the country is pretty sweet.

I even peed in an outhouse with no door or roof while a giant bull stared at me the whole time.

Life in the oba isn’t easy though…the nearest water source in this village was half a mile down the road and there was only one banya per I don’t know how many families to bathe in.

To give myself the ultimate culture shock I visited the Yoloten disco this evening after I returned from the oba…. surrounded by beautiful Russians dressed in their best and Enrique Eglesias pounding through my ears, it was one of the most interesting nights I’ve had in this cute little town.

Obas are cool
Discos rule

It’s days like these that I never want to leave Turkmenistan.

Who Loves Kiwi?

March 6, 2008

Two days ago when I wasn’t looking, one of my students wrote on the board, “There is nothing greater in the world than Angela.”

That brought a huge smile to my face.

They've been bringing me presents over the last few days for World Wide Women's Day this Saturday, March 8. Sometimes I think I'm going crazy and sometimes I think this is the greatest place in the world.

My host cousin is learning English at the same pace that I’m learning Russian, so we’ve become each others’ language support system. We help each other understand grammar, complain on and on about what we hate about each other’s language and often we’ll test each other by exchanging words.

“Kiwi,” I said to her today with a smile. It's the same in both languages :)

“Kiwi…kiwi…” she mumbled, flipping through her notes. “Ah, I forgot kiwi,” she said as she tried to find the word.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer and just started laughing hysterically.

“KIWI!” she yelled. “Ooooooh, Angela…”

A Not So Happy Spring

On my trip into the city a few days ago there was no Internet at the Internet café, no money in the bank, and no mail for me at the post office and I thought well this is just typical.

Everything was spiraling downward and I felt the anger and frustration boiling up again. I was so upset at the students in my school…so upset about the amount of disrespect…so upset at the system in general, so upset with myself for not having better language skills…

It had to stop. I HAD to step back and realize I can’t understand where they’re coming from just as much as they can’t understand me. I HAD to step back and realize that I needed to start developing some patience…NOW.

Knowledge and understanding are extremely different.

Standing in front of a room full of confused high school kids yelling, "Why am I even here?" isn’t going to make anything better. It only makes the anger escalate.

And throwing kids out of class might make me look like tough shit but it makes me feel awful.

It was a bad week, and there will be worse in the future.

But at least I now have a little more strength and a little more courage and I’m not going to give up.

Let There Be WATER

February 17, 2008


That’s right- I am proud to announce that we are now a hydrated house. Flowing, clean H20 has burst back into our lives and it is an incredible, joyous occasion.

Well, it doesn’t exactly flow…it kind of sort of drips and trickles slower than molasses out of the metal pipe from the well. But the important thing is that it’s there, right?

I washed every singe piece of clothing I have this weekend. Some hadn’t been washed since I left U.S. soil.

That’s pretty gross.

But I am no longer gross. I spent hours and hours scrubbing and cleaning and scrubbing and I’m all shiny and clean like in my dreams.

Since the snow has melted, Yoleten has turned into a giant pool of mud creating a catastrophic battle against cleanliness.

But at least now I can clean. I can clean and clean and clean and it’s a wonderful feeling to have the ability to make things better.

Que Paso?

February 15, 2008

Watching the kids make Valentines’s Day Cards yesterday was adorable…they had a blast, although some of them just gave me a blank stare- huh? What do you want us to do? Make what?

Just create! I said. It’s a day of LOVE!

Then they would giggle and ask me to help them draw hearts and stuff. It was really cool because I think it was the first time they’ve had a chance to do that in class.

One student made me a valentine and wrote inside: "I hope you find your true love. And I hope he is in Yoleten so you can stay here forever."

We still have no water at home and my host mom is getting angry. We’ve been bumming buckets from the neighbors like cigarettes. Because of the crappy water situation I haven’t done any laundry for…well…it’s been awhile. It seriously can’t be put off any longer. The situation is getting out of control.

For some reason the price of fuel has skyrocketed, causing taxis to be double the cost now which is completely and totally lame.

At the request of the kids in my school I’ve opened up a Spanish Club and it is SO MUCH FUN because there are so many Spanish words that have been replaced with Turkmen words in my mind and this gives me the opportunity to keep the language alive.

Pretty sweet!

What Goes Around…

Feburary 9, 2008




Getting ready to head out to Mary yesterday for my weekly Friday morning trip I was on a rampage to find a taxi driver. Everyone was charging too much and as I stood in the cold arguing with several stubborn men over the cost of taking me into the city I heard a familiar voice.

“Angela!”

I turned around and it was a driver that I had ridden with once awhile back.

“SALAM!!!!!!!!!!!!” I screeched with joy, asking him how he was, complaining that I needed to get to Mary.

“Well let’s go!” he said with a smile and pointed to his car, which already had three other people inside, ready to go.

As we were driving he was chatting away with me and I wasn’t making much of an effort to listen and understand. I was tired, weary, and didn’t want to speak Turkmen. But then he lifted up his cell phone and I noticed he was describing my special REI alarm clock that I had lost in his car a month ago.

My head snapped up and I grabbed his shoulder in excitement.

“YOU FOUND IT???????? YOU FOUND MY CLOCK??????????? DID YOU REALLY FIND IT????????” I yelled.

“Yes but it is your present to me, no?” he said, laughing.

“Oh man I CRIED when I lost it! I was looking everywhere!”

“Alright, he said. You can have it back.” He explained to the other passengers what the excitement was about…how cool my little American invention was, and how it was lost when we skidded off the road that day almost completely over the snow bank.

So we drove to his house and he took me inside to meet his family and then produced my fabulous REI alarm clock/calculator/weather indicator/currency exchanger. He even taped up the area where it was broken before.

His wife then told me to come and eat with their family, but I had to get to Mary. Plus I don’t think the other passengers would’ve been too pleased to wait that long.

As we left Yoleten to head out to Mary he asked me why I didn’t just live with him and his family, since his kids go to my school and he could just drive us there every day.

“You could live with us for free!” he persisted. “You won’t have to walk to school!”

I laughed and thought about how humorous the situation was. A random taxi driver that had given me a ride once a month ago returns my alarm clock, takes me to his house to meet his family and wants me to move in with them.

But the funny thing is that he isn’t the first to ask me to move. One of my 8th form students asks all the time.

“Why, Angela? WHY can’t you live with me? I want you to live with me! I can just picture how it would be if you lived with me; oh it would be so good if we could live together…”

The truth is, I couldn’t have a better home than the one I’m in right now, and I couldn’t ask for a town with better people.

I’m one of the luckiest people I know.

Sharing is Caring

February 7, 2008

When I learned I had to share my room, I was appalled.

Frustration and anger convulsed within me and I spent hours trying to devise different plans to get my unwelcome roommates to leave.

But what did I expect? Chocolate mints on my pillow and fresh towels next to the tin cup in the banya?

Don’t be such a priss, I told myself.

So my little six-legged and eight-legged friends and I are slowly learning to share the living space. Sometimes they multiply and I get angry, sometimes I spend way too much time fighting them and sometimes I just leave them the heck alone because I’ve stopped caring.

“Do you have ants in America?” a relative asked me yesterday.

“Oh yes, of course we do,” I replied.

“But inside the house?”

“Well…we have this thing called Raid…”

“Ahhhhh” said everyone in the room. Another clever American invention.

I don’t really care that much anymore, but it’s still fun to flick the fat ones across the room and watch them struggle trying to get themselves back on their feet.

Hey, when entertainment is minimal, ant-flicking does have it’s glory.

Winter Blues

January 24, 2008


We have no water. The well is frozen.

We melted snow last night and I felt like I was living in an episode of Little House on the Prarie.

My bruises from slipping on the ice are multiplying ever since I lost my snow shoes…swallowed by the snow.

I can’t wait for spring.

You Funny Girl

January 24, 2008


Studying Russian is like learning to read all over again.

The kids in my English club are teaching me little by little, but it’s hard. I keep complaining about it, but it’s a major point of my frustration.

On a happy note, though, my Turkmen is improving tremendously…mostly because everywhere I go people want to talk to me and every time I get in a taxi the entire hour-long ride into the city and back is filled with rapid conversation because EVERY person inside the car wants to know everything about me. It’s always the same questions every time…

It’s going to be culture shock going back to the U.S. where nobody really cares that I’m an 27-year-old unmarried Turkmen-speaking American English teacher who makes a hundred dollars a month.

New School, New Fun

January 16, 2007

On my first day of school a line of kids stood outside the school, snowballs in hand, pelting everyone and anyone who walked past. I glanced up at them, completely aware of my surroundings but was met with an enthusiastic, “HELLO TEACHER!!!”

My schedule is so packed that my head is spinning and I wish I had Danielle with me to organize my life like she used to do in college. She actually made me my special box for all the things I always lose…I thought of that special box when I broke down and cried over losing my special REI alarm clock the other day. Ugh, it still hurts to think about that.

One of the 9th form kids in my advanced English club often talks about how he wants to be an ambassador some day and all the countries he wants to visit. I can’t help wondering what I would be like today if I had that clear of a vision as to what the heck I wanted in my life at age fifteen.

Being around these students is the most interesting experience because they all are so different, and some of them are so smart I don’t even know what to do with them. It’s only the first week of school and I have three different clubs already and more and more people show up at each session.

I may not have a lot of experience, but I absolutely adore teaching English to these kids.

Who Wants Fish?

January 11, 2008



Charging down the bumpy road into the city in regular weather is scary enough but when it’s covered in a thick sheet of snow and ice and it’s negative 10 degrees outside, I start to pray every time I get in a car. Today was no exception, as at one point on the ride home the taxi driver lost control of the car and skidded off the road.

“Are you scared Angela? Are you alright?” he asked laughingly over and over again as I yelled and clutched onto the door with all my strength. Luckily we had only gone halfway over the snow bank and we were able to get out and push the car back onto the road. The snow was coming down pretty hard at this point.

But it was an adventure, nonetheless. It took almost two hours to get into the city this morning because of the crappy weather, and when we got there everything was closed. No post office, no internet café, no bank…nothing. However, I’ve learned to accept this happening without getting angry now because nothing is ever how you think it’s going to be over here.

So friends and I wandered through Mary trying to find a café that was open, which was pretty much impossible. Then we met a man on the street who told us he would find us a café…and the adventure continued, but the only place that was open was catering to some type of funeral party.

“Many people have died,” the man told us in broken English, but he might have meant that many have come to mourn. Who knows?

So we made our way toward the taxis and at the nearby bazaar he bought a gigantic bag of etly somsas (meat pies) and handed them to us, refusing to take our money. We finally found an open café with a few tables by the taxi stand at that point and we walked in and sat down. Then the man opened the large purse he was carrying and proudly pulled out a fish with every intention for us to enjoy it for lunch.

I told him I wouldn’t eat it and he didn’t understand why. He was asking the ladies working in the café if they could cook it for us.

“No, I’m not going to eat your fish,” I told him. Without having a good excuse I just told him I’m allergic.

He laughed and we offered to buy him a beer but he said he only drinks whiskey. So we found him some whiskey and we ate meat pies and drank instant coffee and had a jolly good afternoon. He insisted we take his phone number and we come hang out with him whenever we come to Mary. He was one of the coolest people I’ve ever met in this country.

But I’d like to add that I’m pretty open-minded when it comes to trying food, and I’m sure his fish would have made a delicious meal. I just usually try to stay away from animals that random people on the street pull out of their purses.