October 30, 2009
“You’re American!” the man in the front seat of the taxi yelled at my friend Halley and I.
“Yes, that’s right,” we said.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-five,” Halley said.
“How old do you THINK I am?” I asked with a smile as Halley rolled her eyes.
“Uhhhh…twenty-three?”
“Great job! You’re absolutely correct!” I laughed.
“You’re such a liar,” Halley said in English.
“I have a son!” the man announced. “Let me call him now. Will you meet him?”
“Of course!”
He got on the phone with his son and explained the exciting news: Two American girls were sitting in the backseat of his taxi. Would he meet them? One of them is 23 and looks Turkmen. She has black hair and dark eyes. She’d be perfect for him, and she speaks Turkmen. She already has agreed to marry him.
“Beh!” he said as he got off the phone. “He’s too shy.”
“Awwww, that’s too bad,” I said. “I really wanted to marry him.”
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Two Years
October 25, 2009
Twenty five months have passed and I’m still in Turkmenistan.
I never thought I wouldn’t make it, but I didn’t know exactly how it would pan out.
Two years ago I could barely tell you that the weather was crappy. Today I sit with my friends and gossip and share stories and give advice and so on.
Two years ago I was freaking out about being sick and so careful about everything I ate. I complained about food being too oily and made fun of the way Turkmen cooked. Today I couldn’t care less…if it looks good I’ll eat it, and that includes ridiculous amounts of fat.
Two years ago I didn’t understand how people lived without vacuum cleaners. How did they clean their carpets? Today I actually enjoy sweeping the carpet with straw brooms. It really does work.
Two years ago I cried when people made fun of me. Today I laugh with them. They think I’m funny and weird, well I think the same thing about them so who the hell cares?
Two years ago I didn’t understand how delicious tomatoes are. Today I remain obsessed with them and will probably continue to be this way for a long time.
Two years ago I was scared of the bazaar. I didn’t like the way people stared at me and was afraid of asking people how much stuff was for fear of them making fun of me. Today I stroll through the bazaar constantly talking with all the sellers individually because we’ve gotten to know each other so well over the past two years. They tell me what’s just in, what’s freshest, and ask me about other things I bought the previous week.
Two years ago I was afraid of teaching English. I didn’t know what I was doing and was weird and awkward. Today I work with some of the smartest kids I’ve ever met and have worked with them on a huge variety of topics. They have become my light, my life and the reason why I’m here.
Two years went by so fast.
Twenty five months have passed and I’m still in Turkmenistan.
I never thought I wouldn’t make it, but I didn’t know exactly how it would pan out.
Two years ago I could barely tell you that the weather was crappy. Today I sit with my friends and gossip and share stories and give advice and so on.
Two years ago I was freaking out about being sick and so careful about everything I ate. I complained about food being too oily and made fun of the way Turkmen cooked. Today I couldn’t care less…if it looks good I’ll eat it, and that includes ridiculous amounts of fat.
Two years ago I didn’t understand how people lived without vacuum cleaners. How did they clean their carpets? Today I actually enjoy sweeping the carpet with straw brooms. It really does work.
Two years ago I cried when people made fun of me. Today I laugh with them. They think I’m funny and weird, well I think the same thing about them so who the hell cares?
Two years ago I didn’t understand how delicious tomatoes are. Today I remain obsessed with them and will probably continue to be this way for a long time.
Two years ago I was scared of the bazaar. I didn’t like the way people stared at me and was afraid of asking people how much stuff was for fear of them making fun of me. Today I stroll through the bazaar constantly talking with all the sellers individually because we’ve gotten to know each other so well over the past two years. They tell me what’s just in, what’s freshest, and ask me about other things I bought the previous week.
Two years ago I was afraid of teaching English. I didn’t know what I was doing and was weird and awkward. Today I work with some of the smartest kids I’ve ever met and have worked with them on a huge variety of topics. They have become my light, my life and the reason why I’m here.
Two years went by so fast.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Notebook Crazy
October 15, 09
Last month at our Close of Service conference the topic of readjustment in America was brought up and we all laughed at silly stories that people heard. We had a nice chuckle about the girl who cried when she couldn’t decide which cheesecake to choose at the Cheesecake Factory, and the lady who stood frozen in shock in the produce section at Whole Foods Market.
We’re aware that Americans have gazillions of things to choose from, where as out here your standard product is it, but it’s hard to get the full feeling until you’re in the situation.
“I just don’t see that happening to us,” my friend Halley said.
“I know! I can’t see myself in a situation like that,” I replied. “I mean that’s just weird.”
Then this week I received a package from my fabulous aunts in Ohio full of wonderful surprises. And among the granola bars and instant oatmeal were two composition notebooks. TWO.
I sat on the floor of my room and stared at the notebooks.
One was green, and one was black. Which one did I want for my Russian vocabulary? Green or black?
The green one is more beautiful. But the green notebook was “wide-ruled” and the black notebook was “college ruled”.
Did I want wide-ruled or college ruled? What was better? Wide or College?
Okay, I thought…maybe one has more pages than the other. So I sat there and counted the pages. Both notebooks had 100 pages.
Okay…maybe there’s more lines in the black notebook than the green notebook. So I sat there and counted the lines. The black notebook had 32 and the green had 25.
But the green notebook was “wide-ruled”! Was that better?
Okay…maybe the pages in the green notebook are thinner than the pages in the black notebook.
So I sat there and individually felt the pages in each notebook, trying to decipher if one’s were flimsier than the other.
And then I realized forty minutes had passed and I was crazy.
In the end, the green notebook’s pages really were thinner.
I chose the black one.
Dear America People: when I return to your lovely country, please don’t ask me to make any decisions.
Thanks.
Love, Angela
Last month at our Close of Service conference the topic of readjustment in America was brought up and we all laughed at silly stories that people heard. We had a nice chuckle about the girl who cried when she couldn’t decide which cheesecake to choose at the Cheesecake Factory, and the lady who stood frozen in shock in the produce section at Whole Foods Market.
We’re aware that Americans have gazillions of things to choose from, where as out here your standard product is it, but it’s hard to get the full feeling until you’re in the situation.
“I just don’t see that happening to us,” my friend Halley said.
“I know! I can’t see myself in a situation like that,” I replied. “I mean that’s just weird.”
Then this week I received a package from my fabulous aunts in Ohio full of wonderful surprises. And among the granola bars and instant oatmeal were two composition notebooks. TWO.
I sat on the floor of my room and stared at the notebooks.
One was green, and one was black. Which one did I want for my Russian vocabulary? Green or black?
The green one is more beautiful. But the green notebook was “wide-ruled” and the black notebook was “college ruled”.
Did I want wide-ruled or college ruled? What was better? Wide or College?
Okay, I thought…maybe one has more pages than the other. So I sat there and counted the pages. Both notebooks had 100 pages.
Okay…maybe there’s more lines in the black notebook than the green notebook. So I sat there and counted the lines. The black notebook had 32 and the green had 25.
But the green notebook was “wide-ruled”! Was that better?
Okay…maybe the pages in the green notebook are thinner than the pages in the black notebook.
So I sat there and individually felt the pages in each notebook, trying to decipher if one’s were flimsier than the other.
And then I realized forty minutes had passed and I was crazy.
In the end, the green notebook’s pages really were thinner.
I chose the black one.
Dear America People: when I return to your lovely country, please don’t ask me to make any decisions.
Thanks.
Love, Angela
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Into the Wild
I've been sitting in front of this computer trying to figure out something to write today and nothing's coming to mind.
It could be because my brain is so fried from sleeping outside in the freezing cold mountains in Chuli last night...
Or it could be because of Alp Arslan. It tastes more battery acid than vodka.
What I learned:
Meat from Yimpash really is better
Never even think about camping without an axe
Climbing uphill at 3am with no shoes in the dark is always a bad idea
Smartwool from REI is beyond awesome
Boys fart a lot.
The end.
I'm glad I did it though...my last camping trip in T-tsan, and one of the most memorable ones.
I need a shower like never before.
It could be because my brain is so fried from sleeping outside in the freezing cold mountains in Chuli last night...
Or it could be because of Alp Arslan. It tastes more battery acid than vodka.
What I learned:
Meat from Yimpash really is better
Never even think about camping without an axe
Climbing uphill at 3am with no shoes in the dark is always a bad idea
Smartwool from REI is beyond awesome
Boys fart a lot.
The end.
I'm glad I did it though...my last camping trip in T-tsan, and one of the most memorable ones.
I need a shower like never before.
Friday, October 02, 2009
A Little Help from My Friends
Wednesday was up there with one of the worst days ever out here, and after the day was over, after the taxi pulled into my home, after my day of wandering around Mary City arguing with migration officials about my new visa, getting all my problems straightened out, I needed one thing, and one thing only.
To vent.
So I hurried to the nearest shop, purchased a bag of cookies and two Baltika 5s and showed up to one of my local friend's house with a smile.
"ANGELA!" She said as she opened the door.
"Ohhhhh you are not going to believe my day," I began and we sat and talked and gossiped and after about twenty minutes I felt loads better.
And then I realized something...how incredibly lucky I am that I have friends here, people who I can just sit and talk with about anything and everything for hours.
She may not understand a word of English, and my Russian still blows but the friendship is real.
Man what a crazy week this has been...
What's next?
To vent.
So I hurried to the nearest shop, purchased a bag of cookies and two Baltika 5s and showed up to one of my local friend's house with a smile.
"ANGELA!" She said as she opened the door.
"Ohhhhh you are not going to believe my day," I began and we sat and talked and gossiped and after about twenty minutes I felt loads better.
And then I realized something...how incredibly lucky I am that I have friends here, people who I can just sit and talk with about anything and everything for hours.
She may not understand a word of English, and my Russian still blows but the friendship is real.
Man what a crazy week this has been...
What's next?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
