Life in the Kara Kum

Back in the USA

2010-03-09T02:53:00.002+05:00

I have been back in the USA for three weeks now and it has been a strange experience.

I had forgotten about things like traffic, high-speed internet and large selections of salad dressings in supermarkets.

Truthfully it hasn't been easy...I keep in contact with my friends and family in Turkmenistan, but of course it isn't the same. We talk about what I've missed over the past two months and laugh about how I am forgetting my language skills.

But every time I go to a yoga class, concert, or book shop out here, I remind myself that this is where I need to be.

So what's next? After a nice break at my parent's house in Los Angeles I am moving back up to San Francisco.

I think about Turkmenistan every day, but life goes on, and hopefully someday in the future I will be able to return.

Lao Lao

2010-02-02T15:01:00.003+05:00

Three weeks after I've left Turkmenistan and my head is still spinning.

I met my friend Veronica in Hanoi to bounce around SE Asia for a bit and we had a blast. Took motorbikes across Vietnam into Laos because the country, the scenery, the EVERYTHING was soooo beautiful.

But when we got across the border we realized we were in the middle of nowhere...no people, no cars, nothing.

Then all of a sudden a random pickup truck came bouncing along and we flagged him down. The nice man let us hitch a ride in the back of his truck and took us all the way to the next city.

Bumping along through the mountains, we made it there in one piece, and the next day took off to Phonsavan, a city that brought reality home for us because of the UXO presence still alive in the country. Apparently some 5 million bombs still lie scattered throughout the country and the level of danger is adamant.

The cleanup process has cleared only about 3 percent and millions more still need to be taken care of...a situation I was not at all aware of before coming here.

After we spent our time in Phonsavan, we hopped on a bus to Vang Vieng and spent the next three days in a daze of kayaks, caves, and floating along the river inside of a giant tube.

Next stop: Sydney :)

Wild in the Streets

2010-01-25T16:46:00.003+05:00

Ten hours after leaving T-stan:

I arrive in Bangkok and wander around for two hours trying to find a place to stay. I guess it's the high season.

Eight hours after arriving in Vietnam:

I am attacked by a dog and he bites my ankle. Don't worry, I've had three different rounds of rabies vaccinations...no symptoms yet.

Two hours later:

I fall into a swamp.

The next day:

A 15 km trek through the jungle of Cat Ba Island off the coast of North Vietnam...quite similar to Pandora but we only saw one monkey and no Navi

Two days later:

We're flooded out of Hanoi. The rain is coming down so hard and I am a happy bubble of warmth inside a big, blue poncho.

A few days after that:

Roaming around Hoi An, Vietnam I run into a Russian/Israeli/Australian/French dude and we immediately start babbling on and on in Russian about the greatness of Central Asian food.

And I am immediately homesick for plov but grateful to be able to have this weird thing in common with another person out here on the coast of Vietnam.

Next stop: Laos

Good Bye

2010-01-15T16:50:00.003+05:00

I knew it was coming but wasn't sure how I'd feel leaving Turkmenistan.

I spent the last few days rigorously saying my good-byes, but not really feeling the blow just yet.

The night before I left Yoloten I had dinner at my best friend in Yoloten's house and we hugged each other and cried and made plans to hopefully see each other again and never lose contact.

I visited some students right before leaving Yoloten and we hugged and I promised to help them with anything I possibly could in the future.

And standing at the airport with my friends, we stood there and cried and held each other and promised to never forget.

And I sat on the plane continuously calling and texting random friend and family, still saying good-bye.

As the plane started moving the tears started flowing uncontrollably and I couldn't believe I was actually leaving.

I'll never forget.

The past two years have been the best two years of my life.

Hollywood in Yoloten

2010-01-15T16:33:00.002+05:00

January 11, 2010

Random people have been telling me for weeks that something was going to happen today, but I didn't quite know what. My students told me specifically:

Make sure Monday January 11 you are free from 3:00 until 10:00. Be at home and await instructions.

"Angela did you know there's going to be a party for you at the disco on Monday night?" a friend of mine told me last night.

"Ahhhh...so it's at the disco..." I said with a smile. It's hard to keep secrets in such a small town.

At about 4:30 a student showed up with a piece of paper with instructions: Do you think California is the only place for Hollywood? Well you're wrong! Follow the arrows throughout our lovely town to find Yoloten's own Hollywood

So a few other volunteers and I wandered through the streets following the arrows that they had strategically posted and then when we arrived at the park two of them jumped out of a nearby car and kidnapped me. We drove around the block until we got to the door of the disco where all my students screamed "SURPRISE!"

It was incredible...they made a Hollywood-themed party and named it the Yoloten Angels Awards.

Throughout the disco they hung their projects from the past two years...the posters they made for Earth Day, the vision boards they made for their future, etc.

They presented everyone with different awards for the work they did throughout the past two years, and throughout the awards they did different songs and dances. It was absolutely INCREDIBLE.

I can't even describe how much time and effort those kids put into that party. They said they'd been working on it for over two months, practicing dance routines, etc.

At the end they presented me with my award: 'Best Angel'.

It was the most fantastic night... one that will live in my memory forever.

Twenty five dolla make you Holla

2010-01-15T14:29:00.003+05:00

January 9, 2010

Turkmenistan is, overall, an extremely safe country. With the exception of a few insane taxi rides and an unpleasant incident with my banya gas heater, I have never felt my life was in immediate danger.

Turkmen people are, for the most part, extremely gentle and that's one thing I love the most about being here.

Yet today, five days before my departure, I had an encounter unlike any other. I was in a city about 45 minutes north of Yoloten and I got in a taxi heading home. Unfortunately, when we stopped in Turkmengala, fifteen minutes away from Yoloten, everyone else in the taxi got out.

"Are you still going to Yoloten?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "We'll just wait for more people to come."

And then he looked at me long and hard and asked me where I was from. I told him I was from the America and he proceeded to stare at me.

"You are SO beautiful," he said. "I really, REALLY like you."

And he continued to stare at me and tell me how much he liked me, making no effort at all whatsoever to find other clients for his taxi.

"Uhhhh...okay dude are you going to Yoloten or what?" I asked.

"I really, REALLY like you," he said. "Can I kiss you?"

"NO!!!!!" I yelled. "If you're not going to Yoloten, then just tell me so I can find someone else!"

"I'll go, I'll go," he said. But he continued to stare at me. "I really, REALLY like you."

He reached over to the glove compartment and pulled out some money. About 25 dollars worth of manat. He leaned over and handed me the money.

"This is for you," he said. "I really, REALLY like you."

I immediately freaked out.

"WHY are you giving me this money!?!" I screamed at him. "WHY!"

"Because I REALLY like you," he said with a creepy smile.

"I do NOT want your money!" I yelled and threw it back at him. Luckily at that moment a bus going to Yoloten pulled up to the taxi stand. I jumped out of the car and headed toward the bus.

"Wait, you didn't pay me for the taxi ride!" he yelled.

"YOU are an asshole and you should be ashamed of yourself," I said to him in English as I shoved my taxi fare at him.

"But I don't know English," he said.

"Oh, go to hell," I replied.

Still in the Kara Kum

2010-01-04T12:14:00.003+05:00

Everyone makes fun of me for staying a few extra weeks after my Peace Corps Close of Service (COS) but I don't care.

These last few weeks have been fantastic...I've had time to get TWO more dresses made, I've reconnected with local friends I hadn't seen in a long time, and it gave me time to get one last round of parasites in my belly.

I have ten days, and a long list of things that have to get done before I leave this country, and I don't know if I'll make it, but like every year, I resolve to be more organized. Yes, my American friends and family, I know you're laughing hysterically at this.

My students continually come by my house to talk, hang out, ask for help with some random thing, etc, and as the days go by, I'm beginning to freak out a little bit more.

Ten more days...

Happy Birthday to Me

2010-01-04T12:13:00.001+05:00

December 30, 2009

Having a birthday so close to New Year’s Eve definitely has more minuses than pluses but over the years I’ve gotten used to it.

Yet this year was pretty cool.

I was in the kitchen preparing food for tonight and my host sister was outside sweeping, cleaning up for the guests that were coming in another two hours.

All of a sudden we heard a gigantic BOOM! And a firecracker landed in our yard, followed by another one. My poor host sister freaked out and threw open the gate to yell at whoever was doing this, only to be met with all my students singing at the top of their lungs, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!”

I ran out of the kitchen and my host sister was laughing so hard she was crying; it was absolutely hilarious. They brought cakes and cookies and presents and it was so incredibly sweet.

What a great birthday 

Eat FRESH!

2010-01-04T12:11:00.000+05:00

December 26, 2009

Christmas 2009.

Scene: My friend Dan and I have just killed a chicken for dinner. Well, he did the actual killing since I’m a girl I’m forbidden to end the life of an animal. I’m pouring boiling water over the carcass and plucking out the feathers.

“Man, this takes FOREVER! I swear Turkmen are so good at this,” I complained. “When my relatives from the village do this it only takes them like, ten minutes.”

“Well, think of it this way,” Dan said. “They’d probably have a really tough time ordering a Subway sandwich.”

True that.

The End of an Era

2009-12-18T15:26:00.001+05:00

December 17, 2009

Today was my last day of work as a United States Peace Corps volunteer in Turkmenistan.

It definitely hasn’t hit me yet…I knew it was my last English class today, I gave my address to all my students and we hugged and ate cake and took pictures, but it doesn’t quite feel like the end.

Maybe because I’m sticking around for a few extra weeks after my end of service December 23. Maybe when I get in the taxi on January 14 I’ll start freaking out. It’s quite possible.

I can’t believe I did it. Seriously…I can’t believe I did this. I can’t believe I spent 27 months in this country and I’m still alive and well.

I end my Peace Corps experience with the ability to fully communicate in Russian and Turkmen, ten pounds lighter in size, but a hundred pounds heavier in experience.

I end my Peace Corps experience with more parasites than I have ever had in my life, but with less severances than I had before.

I end my Peace Corps experience with a foggy view of the future, but a beautiful picture of my past.

I end Peace Corps a whole lot stronger, with a hell of a wider outlook on life, and a massive Russian pop music collection.

I’m trying to remember the person I was when I left Washington D.C. on October 1, 2007 and it’s hard. It feels like it was a decade ago. I look at photos and see the clothes I wore and how short my hair was and I think wow that’s so weird. I think of my daily activities in the month before I left the US and it’s not comparable to my daily activities here.

It’s just weird.

I end Peace Corps a little freaked out, but I have three more weeks in this desert community to figure it all out.

Vampires!

2009-12-18T15:09:00.000+05:00

December 9, 2009

Awhile back some amazing friends of mine sent me the Twilight series, which I quickly discovered is a huge phenomenon in the United States, as the second movie, “New Moon” just came out. I went through the entire book series in about a week and a half and they were quickly sought after (and still are) by other volunteers as well.

But when my students found out that I had all four books it became an obsession.

Classroom chatter erupted with Edward and Bella and how hot he was in the movie and on and on and on.

“Enough!” I yelled at them one day. “The story doesn’t even get interesting until book four when she becomes a vampire, anyway!”

“WHY DID YOU TELL US THAT!!!!!!” they screamed.

“Oops!” I laughed. “Sorry guys, back to work.”

“That was soooooo mean!” they glared at me.

To say they’re obsessed is quite the understatement. When we play around with names someone is always Edward and Bella. Examples in class go back to Edward and Bella. One student even requested I please download some Twilight photos when I go into the city to use the internet.

They seriously can’t get enough.

But yesterday was definitely the kicker.

“Angela, do vampires really exist?” one student asked me. “Maral says they do.”

I looked behind her to see Maral quietly laughing.

“Of course they do! You didn’t know that?” I said.

“What? No…I don’t believe you,” she said.

“Vampires exist everywhere! It’s common knowledge, Jeren.”

“Really?”

“YES! Vampires have existed for thousands of years and will continue to do so. I can’t believe you didn’t know this!”

“But how can it be true?” she asked with wide eyes.

“Vampires are EVERYWHERE. Especially in Turkmeni-“ I couldn’t hold it in any longer and the laugh erupted from inside of me.

“YOU’RE LYING! I KNEW IT!” she yelled.

“I’m sorry!” I laughed. “It was just too good I couldn’t help it.”

Anyone interested in making some vampire-obsessed teenagers smile? Send a copy of “New Moon” to Yoloten. Movie theaters don’t exist out here, but pirated DVDs are always welcome.

Two Weeks

2009-12-05T12:28:00.003+05:00

I officially have two more weeks as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Turkmenistan. I arrive in Ashgabat December 20 to begin three days of paperwork and exit interviews and then...the world is mine.

Sitting in class the other day one of my students said, "Angela, what will happen if you leave?"

I couldn't stop laughing. "What do you mean 'IF', Jeren? I can't STAY here. I have to go home."

I made pumpkin pie for my students on Thanksgiving and once again the subject of me leaving was brought up.

"You made this yourself?" one girl asked.

I told her I did.

"See, you can cook! Just stay here and be a gelin!"

I immediately started laughing. "What a GREAT IDEA! Why have I never thought of that before? I could just get married!"

If I had a dollar for every marraige proposal I've received in this country I would never have to work again.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2009-11-27T14:24:00.002+05:00

Thanksgiving this year was a huge success, and this is, in my opinion, a hundred percent due to the fact that we did not kill the turkeys ourselves.

I think people forget how much work goes into killing and cleaning and preparing an animal for consumption, but last year the process was excruciating and exhausting. Plucking the feathers off of two seven-kilo turkeys is just NOT FUN.

So even though some people opposed to this idea, I paid a nice old lady about a dollar to kill and clean those suckers for us this year.

It was PERFECT.

We threw some spices on those bad boys, stuck them in the oven and four hours later we were eating some awesome turkey.

Unfortunately to get this deal I had to promise the other volunteers that we'd kill one for Christmas...

It'll be another adventure.

Rules

2009-11-20T15:03:00.000+05:00

In my house we have a few rules…

No one is allowed to touch the water pump except host mom. This is because it’s about a hundred years old and constantly breaks with the slightest misconduct.

Don’t dump the dishwater into the garden. Soap can harm the roses.

Don’t cook eggs in the white pan. Always use a metal one. Don’t ask me about the reasoning behind this rule, I have NO IDEA.

And most importantly:

No one is ever to re-light the fire for the banya heater except host mom. NO ONE.

Unfortunately for me, I’ve broken all of these rules…

It happened last Saturday when no one was home. I was excited and in a hurry to get into Mary City to see my friend Elliott from Lebap. I really wanted to take a shower but when I looked into the hole there was no flame above the gas vent.

What should I do?

The options were simple: Take a lukewarm shower in a slightly cool banya or try and re-light the fire myself and take a warm shower in a nice, warm banya.

I figured it can’t be that hard, so I rolled up some newspaper, turned the gas on, and stuck my arm into the hole.

What happened next left me in a state of shock (and pain) for the next seven hours.

BOOM! The flames burst out of the hole and into me instantly and I fell back in shock. My right arm was stinging in pain and I was covered in black.

It was pretty much the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life…and I sat and cried as my poor arm soaked in a bucket of cold water.

Finally I wrapped my incinerated arm in wet, cold towels, found a taxi and made him allow me to sit in the front seat with my poor burnt arm hanging out the window all the way to Mary.

“Angela, you need to take better care of yourself,” the driver told me. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to set the flame down, stand back, and then slightly turn the gas up?”

“I do now,” I groaned in pain.

It’s been a week so far and I’ve managed to hide my scarred arm from my host mother but it’s only a matter of time before I’m found out.

Some rules are NOT meant to be broken.

Winter Blues

2009-11-10T10:06:00.001+05:00

This morning my shampoo was frozen. I had to pour hot water over it to get it to come out of the bottle.

Seriously, it went from jacket and socks weather to heavy coat-scarf-gloves-boot weather in a matter of hours.

I forgot how much I loathed winter.

And I forgot that I threw away my boots last year after they snapped in half.

It’s going to be a long 2 months.

it never ends

2009-11-07T11:18:00.004+05:00

Last night I completely missed the toilet when I was doing my business in the toilet.

That was really gross.

You would think I would have things like that down by now. You would think.

In other news I'm planning my way out...heading to SE Asia mid January and hopefully back home in February.

The one question people ask when they hear about me leaving is "will you come back?"

And the only answer I can give is "inshallah" and "nesip bolsa".

Time will tell.

Marriage Proposals in Taxis

2009-10-31T11:58:00.000+06:00

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.”

Two Years

2009-10-31T11:52:00.000+06:00

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.

Notebook Crazy

2009-10-17T16:27:00.000+06:00

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

Into the Wild

2009-10-11T13:03:00.004+06:00

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.

A Little Help from My Friends

2009-10-02T16:13:00.003+06:00

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?

English Woman Teacher

2009-09-30T15:37:00.000+06:00

September 30, 2009

I was correcting one of my student’s notebook’s yesterday during my break and I came across this:

“My an Engish woman teacher Angela

I wanted to describe my an Engish teacher. Her is name Angela. Her is name was named her exactly because she looks like a angel.”

Oh these kids.

Boys Boys Boys

2009-09-19T13:36:00.001+06:00

September 17, 2009

“So what’s up with your boyfriend?” I asked my dressmaker tonight.

“He’s dead,” she said.

“WHAT? HE’S DEAD? ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

Everyone in the room started laughing.

“No, he’s probably not really dead,” she said. “He just hasn’t called for three months, which means he’s dead to me.”

“That’s horrible! Well, don’t worry you can do better. In fact I’ll help you!” I said, and started going through all the names of boys I knew in Yoloten.

“What about Ahmed? He has a car and he’s not bad looking,” I asked her.

“Ahmed is MARRIED, Angela!” she said.

“Oh that liar! He told me he was single!” I said angrily.

“Yeah, don’t they all? Eh, I wouldn’t want to marry him anyway, he’s my cousin.”

“Alright I’m going find you an American boyfriend then, okay?”

“Perfect!” She laughed.

Any takers? She’s pretty awesome…

Journey to the Caspian Sea

2009-09-05T18:33:00.002+06:00

After almost two years of living in this country I finally made it out to the Caspian Sea...Turkmenistan's proud vacation destination.

Yet, being a tourist town in a country that has virtually no tourists can cause a bit of problems...especially if you LIVE here and know that pretty much no citizen of this country can pay these outragous prices.

Example:

"Excuse me," I said politely in Russian to the DJ at the disco on Tuesday night.

"Yes?" he asked.

I smiled sweetly and asked if he had a couple of songs. Naturally "Single Ladies" by Beyonce and "Poker Face" by the one and only Lady Gaga.

We looked through his computer database and found "Poker Face".

"YESSS!" I exclaimed. "Can you please play it for us?"

Keep in mind that this disco is pack full of the following people: Peace Corps volunteers, two Russian prostitutes, and a fat old Russian dude who probably works at the hotel.

"That'll be 50,000 manat," the DJ said. About $3.50.

"Are you freaking out of your mind?" I asked in Russian, again. "You have GOT to be kidding me!"

"That's the price, girl," he said. Literally.

"But that's crazy! This dance floor is only full of Americans! If we leave you'll be playing music for nobody! Why the hell would you charge that much for ONE SONG?"

"It's our rule. That's how it is here," he said rudely.

So of course I decided to boycott the disco after that, but when all my friends were dancing to crappy techno and I was pouting outside, complaining about the dj I realized that I was not making things better.

"THIS IS RIDICULOUS!" I yelled to a random guy outside. I didn't know if he worked there or not, but he looked shady enough so I figured what the hell.

"Talk to that guy then," he said, pointing to another guy with a bad mullet.

I explained my problem, that it was ONE SONG, and he walked with me back to the DJ booth.

"Just play the damn song," he told him.

What I didn't like about Turkmenbashy:

Everything is more expensive

There are absolutely no trees or grass anywhere

Not one single person had change for large bills

Instead of looking for change for large bills, sellers just scoffed in my face and refused transactions

What I loved about Turkmenbashy:

The Caspian Sea is absolutely gorgeous

I could wear a mini skirt and it was no problem

The airport consisted of one x-ray machine, a table, and a couple dudes in uniform.

I'm glad I went though...it was an amazing vacation.

COUNTDOWN: However days from now until December 23-ish. See you soon!

Cross Cultural Exchange

2009-08-22T11:09:00.000+06:00

August 20, 2009

As if the Kazakh wedding wasn’t enough celebration for me for one week, I got roped into another birthday party tonight.

I had sworn off liquor after I spent last Sunday vomiting the entire contents of my stomach so I was feeling good when I walked into my dressmaker’s home tonight.

Armed with a coffee cake (they don’t know it’s a breakfast dish in America) I smiled widely and said, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” in Russian.

“Great! You’re here! Go sit down!” she said enthusiastically.

After all of us were seated around the tablecloth on the floor she ran out of the room and returned second later with a huge smile on her face. My stomach turned as I saw she had smuggled in a bottle of vodka.

“My father didn’t see me!” she laughed and winked at me. “It’s my birthday and we’re going to party!”

Ohhhhhhhhh nooooo…I thought. Not again. No more vodka…

To live in a country where it’s incredibly rude to refuse food or drink is usually no problem for me. I typically enjoy eating and have always enjoyed alcohol.

But as the final rounds of toasts were made and my cup sat on the tablecloth unfinished they all pointed at me.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU DRINK?” they said in accusation.

“Okay that’s it!” I yelled. “You’re all pointing at me but look at YOU! You didn’t drink! And neither did you! AND LOOK! Your cup is half-full!” I accused right back at them. “This is NOT FAIR. You guys all like to pick on me because I’m American and it’s easy. But if you’re not drinking, I’M not drinking.”

With that the whole party erupted with laughter and the two girls sitting next to me told me okay, that’s fine. Let’s just take this last one together.

So we did and when the next round of toasts were made I happily raised a glass of Turkmen orange soda.

Sometimes you just have to draw a line.

Till Death

2009-08-22T11:08:00.000+06:00

August 18, 2009

Love is in the air and now is the best time ever to get married.

The Turkmen government has created a new law that states that any couple who gets married will receive a gift of 16 million manat ($1120).

The downside?

This law also states that any couple who wishes to get divorced must pay a fee of 30 million manat ($2100).

I hope this causes more people to get married. I need more weddings to go to…more excuses to wear my awesome new hot pink dress.

That’s not a misprint guys. HOT PINK. For real.

Pictures coming soon…

Party Like You’re in K-stan

2009-08-22T11:05:00.000+06:00

August 17, 2009

Oh what a weekend…

Saturday was the Kazakh wedding. Two people I barely know were joined together in holy matrimony.

Decked out in a hot pink dress (yes, that’s right guys. HOT PINK) I sat in the corner with some other people I barely knew and toasted with them and swallowed the small shot glass of horrible Turkmen vodka.

And then everything started burning.

I know I was warned about Turkmen vodka before I came here and I usually try to stay away from the benzene-like substances, but I can’t refuse a toast.

Unfortunately I’m so damn polite that I continued to take shot after shot of awful Turkmen vodka and before I knew it I was taken out of the wedding celebration, stumbling through a dirt field and put in my friend’s car to be taken home.

“She’s totally trashed,” they announced to my host mother at the door.

Holy crap, they couldn’t just drop me off and go? Ugh.

“Angela why did you drink so much?” my host mother complained the next day.

“The toasts,” I moaned. “They just kept making me make toasts.”

“Do you know you could hardly walk last night?” I was informed later.

“Oh shut up,” I grumbled. I had just thrown up the entire contents of my stomach and was not in the mood to hear it. “You guys are making this all up.”

NEVER DRINKING AGAIN.

Boredom Sets In

2009-08-15T06:31:00.001+06:00

August 11, 2009

Today I started class like any other day.

“Hey everyone! What’s new?”

Silence.

“Alright come on…somebody give me some news. Something. Anything that has happened to you recently.”

Silence.

“DOES NOBODY HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY?” I asked again, exasperated.

“I bought a new pen,” a student said with a smile.

Everyone started laughing immediately and applauding him for his purchase.

“Wow that’s so great!” one student said.

“Congratulations!” another said.

Not a lot to report from Yoloten at the moment…

DJ Smash Foreva

2009-08-12T01:48:00.001+06:00

August 6, 2009

“Angela, did you know who Dima Bilan was before you came here?” my friend asked me the other day.

“Nope,” I replied. “I didn’t have a clue who he was.”

“YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHO DIMA BILAN IS? But how is that possible?”

Seriously, how is that possible? How did I never know the glories of Russian pop music before I came here?

Keep in mind that I have since accumulated the biggest Russian pop music collection out of any other volunteer out here. And don’t get me started on how awesome these music videos are.

What will I do without RUTV in five months?

Maybe I should extend…

Nightmares and Cookies

2009-08-12T01:47:00.002+06:00

August 5, 2009

My new best friend in Yoloten and I were sitting in her bedroom today talking about superstitions.

“People aren’t superstitious in America?” she asked.

“Ehhh…I guess some are and some aren’t. It’s really not that big of a deal out there.”

She leaned over and asked me if I ever have nightmares. I told her it was pretty rare.

“Whenever I have a nightmare, I go buy a kilo of cookies and give them to children in the streets,” she said. “Then I won’t have any more nightmares.”

“You do WHAT?” I laughed.

“It’s true!” she said. “You don’t believe me?”

I couldn’t stop laughing.

“Oh man I have to write this down. Wait till my friends and family hear this one…”

“Okay,” she said. “Next time you have a nightmare just try it out.”

“Alright, I’ll get back to you on this,” I said, still laughing.

America! Heck Yeah!

2009-08-12T01:47:00.001+06:00

August 5, 2009

Last Friday night on my ride back into the city I was stuck in a taxi full of boys.

“Wait, you’re AMERICAN?” one of the guys in the car asked. “I have a relative who lives in America. He’s a singer! Do you know him?”

The boy was Beluch, from our neighbor to the south in Afghanistan and as great as my Afghan music collection is, I couldn’t say I recognized the singer’s name. I was tired and irritated, and not in the mood to make random conversation.

“Come to the bazaar tomorrow!” the boy said as he was getting off in a small village outside Yoloten.

“Yeah, sure whatever,” I replied. I always tell people I’ll come around and visit after I meet them but it’s all talk and no action. Especially for a Saturday morning. The summer heat really adds to my laziness.

But then the next morning as I was doing my laundry there was a knock on our gate. I opened it up to find my new Beluch friend standing there with a big smile on his face.

“You didn’t come to the bazaar today!” he exclaimed.

How the hell did he find my house? He doesn’t even live in Yoloten.

“Angela, I want to go to America! How can I go?”

Standing there in shorts and a tank top (the most possible inappropriate clothes to be talking to boys in a conservative Muslim country) holding a pile of wet clothes I stared at him in disbelief. Did he really track me down and find my house on a Saturday morning to ask me how he can go to America?

“Uhhh…I’m just an English teacher, dude,” I replied. “I don’t actually work for the consulate and have no freaking clue how you would even begin to do that. I guess you need to apply for a visa or something.”

“I really wanted to see you!” he said. “I want to talk with you! I want to go to America. My relative lives there. He’s a singer!”

“Yes, yes you already told me this. Do you know any English?” I asked politely.

“I can learn English!” he said.

“Well let’s start with that and then work on you getting to America,” I said.

That was five days ago, and he’s proceeded to call me every day since.

“Angela! This is my phone number!” he said the first time he called.

“Yeah okay cool, dude. See ya.”

Two hours later:

“Angela! Do you know who this is?” he asked happily.

“Uhhh…who is this?”

“Hassan! Wait, you didn’t save my number?”

“Okay, okay I’ll save it now,” I said.

One hour later:

“Angela! Do you know who this is?”

“Yes, yes Hassan. I have your number.”

“Great! I really want to go to America!”

Ohhh boy.

“Good luck with that, yo.”

Exploding Poop

2009-08-12T01:45:00.000+06:00

August 2, 2009

This week one of our town watch repairmen decided he was going to paint his shop. Doing what any normal person would do he mixed the paint with benzene and finished the job as he liked.

Not doing what any normal person would do, he decided to dump the remaining benzene he didn’t need down the toilet.

Unfortunately, he later proceeded to smoke a cigarette while using the toilet…forgetting the hole was full of flammable gasoline.

“You could even hear the explosion from my house!” one of my host brother’s friends said. “I live over 200 meters away!”

The poor man suffered from some severe burns but is apparently doing alright.

“Those poor doctors,” my host brother laughed. “Can you imagine how covered in crap he must’ve been when he got to the hospital?”

Word to the wise: Smoking and gasoline don’t mix.

Just Weird

2009-07-25T15:50:00.003+06:00

The hot, desert air smacked me in the face this morning when I stepped off the plane at Ashgabat International Airport and listening to the scattered Russian and Turkmen conversations around me, I felt really comfortable.

The migration officers laughed and joked about how all of us Americans learn Turkmen so well, stamped my passport, and sent me on my way.

The taxi drivers crowded around and I spent five minutes haggling over a good price to get out of there and as we came to a compromise and started joking around, I realized something weird...

This could be the last time I fly into this airport. The next time I pay those terminals a visit will be on my way out of the country for good, in about five months from now.

That's weird.

Pineapple, seafood and islands

2009-07-19T18:15:00.005+06:00

I love Thailand.

It's definitely my favorite country in the world...after Turkmenistan, of course.

I was recently asked: "Would you rather live in T-stan and go on vacation in Thailand, or live in Thailand and go on vacation to T-stan?"

Turkmenistan is a very special place. I know I joke sometimes about how I wanted Fiji but ended up with T-stan, but it's so unique and incredible I wouldn't trade it for the world.

The reason: The people.

I may not have running water, avocados or seafood products, but I've made connections with people and that's what makes my life so special.

WHOOPS

2009-07-15T20:00:00.004+06:00

Halley and Angela's Vacation Bloopers

What not to do on vacation in SouthEast Asia:

1. Forget your atm pin code

2. Type in the wrong atm pin code too many times so that the card is eaten by the machine.

3. Type in the wrong atm pin code again after the nice Thai lady retrieves the card for you.

4. Have your atm card confiscated by the nice Thai bank lady.

5. Abandon your tour bus because it would be a lot cooler to just find your way to Cambodia on your own

6. Leave your camera in random noodle stands in random villages

7. Accidentally mail all your maps of Thailand in a package home to America.

Southeast Asia is a magical place...

Going, Going Gone

2009-07-09T16:11:00.004+06:00

I'M GOING TO THAILAND IN THREE DAYS!!!!!!!!!!

WOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Last day of class went something like this:

One student: "Teacher will you come back?"

Me: Maybe...I'll think about it ;)

Another Student: Teacher, will you eat another frog?

Me: I will and I'll bring back one for you too.

Another student: I have two words for you: HARRY POTTER.

Me: Heck YAH!!!!!! Don't worry guys, I'll find it and we'll watch it when I get back. Just don't tell anyone!

My classes are VERY educational ;)

Journey to Hell

2009-07-09T16:04:00.001+06:00

(this should have been posted awhile ago but lack of internet access prevented this)

May 31, 2009

This weekend we took an unforgettable excursion into the heart of the Kara Kum desert to Darvaza, home to a large, fiery gaseous crater otherwise known as “The Pit of Hell”. Years ago when people were drilling for oil it was accidentally lit on fire and remains this way today.

The eight of us piled into two SUVs and headed out into the desert in the scorching heat.

“Can we PLEASE stop at the next shop we see for water?” I asked our driver.

“Sure, no problem!” he said with a smile.

After about 150 kilometers we turned on a small, dirt path.

“Oooooh I hope they have ice cream!” I said. “I really, really want ice cream.”

“I hope they have some cold, bubbly water,” my friend Halley said. “That would be so good right now.”

We stopped in front of a small brown building about the size of a motor home. Two boys that looked about 12 years old sat outside at a small table cluttered with beers and sodas baking in the heat.

“Supermarket!” our driver said, laughing.

“Awwwwwww, man,” we moaned.

We continued on our way through the middle of nowhere, sweating out every drop of water we drank. Our driver turned off at one point to go off the road through the sand in the desert. How he knew this was the turn off point for the Pit of Hell is beyond me. We tumbled through the sand until we stopped at a small hill.

“Wooooooow,” we all said in unison when we saw the crater. The waves of heat came blasting every now again causing us to scream and run away. But overall it was pretty cool.

We set up tents, cooked some food and camped out under the stars by the giant flaming crater. Once night hit, the red glow from the crater was absolutely spectacular.

“Angela, tell everyone to stay at least ten meters back,” our driver told me.

“Sure, no problem!” I said as I ran down to hang out by the flames.

We took turns theorizing what we would do if one of us fell into the pit, compared it to the ending of Lord of the Rings and took a million photos at the crater’s edge by the glow until our driver came running out, yelling at us.

“Angela, I told you to tell them to stay ten meters back!” he yelled.

“Oooooo sorry,” I smiled. It was just too cool.

Later we put on some music, kicked off our shoes and went dancing in the sand. The desert windstorms were overwhelming and insane and the sand was just everywhere. In our food, in our ears, in our water, in our tents…everywhere. Halley and I crashed inside a tent that was almost completely blown over by the wind and woke up completely covered in sand.

Getting back through the sand dunes was harder than getting there, and we found ourselves stuck in the sand. The only way to successfully get through was to back up and go full-speed ahead. We flew through the air and bounded through the sand…it was sort of like that Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland. Our car made it through with minor neck injuries and bruises, but the other car didn’t. When they pulled up we saw that they had crashed pretty hard- the entire front end of the car was bent in and everyone inside was pretty shaken up.

The irony was that they had seatbelts and we didn’t.

Overall everyone was alright and that’s what matters. Minus the accident, the trip was my favorite excursion so far.

How many people can say they’ve been to hell and back, eh?

Summer Nights

2009-06-19T23:28:00.000+06:00

June 18, 2009

What is summer in T-stan? Three months of never wearing my hair down, watermelon, swimming, sandals, and loads of ice cream.

Truthfully I can’t complain. It’s hot but I have hats and sunscreen. It’s simple but unique. It’s frustrating but fascinating…

And at night the stars flood the sky and there’s something glorious about the way the moonlight reflects against the Murgap River at night.

Oh those summer nights…

Positively Tactless

2009-06-08T12:32:00.002+06:00

June 4, 2009

Tact is something Turkmen people sometimes lack, but it's
something that we learn to deal with out here. Last month I gained two
kilos, putting me back to the same weight I was when I came to this
country, and it did not go unnoticed.

"Angela, you look fat," my host brother's friend said a couple weeks ago.

"WHAAAAA?" I said. I had no words.

"Yeah, are you eating a lot more now?" he ased casually, as if he were
asking about our new sheep or the price of tomatoes at the bazar.

"Uhhhh..." I didn't know what to say.

"I guess you're not on a diet, huh," he said.

"I am now," I muttered.

Today was no exception at the bazar, when the lady I buy bread from
every week patted my stomach and said, "Look how fat the American is
getting!"

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled.

"We'll still find you a nice Turkmen boy," she said. "Don't worry."

True story.

Two Things

2009-05-29T09:18:00.001+06:00

May 28, 2009

Two things I’ve learned this week:

No matter how bad things are, there’s someone else suffering 100 times more than you.

And no matter what, you must always, always, always treat other people how you want to be treated.

I won’t lie…it’s been a rough week. Probably one of the roughest ever in the past year and a half and recent events have even made me consider leaving early…my lack of motivation and increased irritation together have made me not like myself very much this week.

Sometimes I feel .like I just don’t understand anything at all. And I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself over the past few days.

Then my host brother got sick and my stupid problems stopped mattering so much. Watching my host mother suffer through this ordeal is enough. I’ve had enough with my crappy attitude.

I am in check…there are more important things to worry about in the world.

Ugh

2009-05-29T09:16:00.000+06:00

May 24, 2009

Today it was 38 degrees outside.

It’s only going to get worse.

I miss America.

Kirk Gyzlar

2009-05-22T17:43:00.000+06:00

May 19, 2009

The legend goes like this…

Many years ago forty girls (kirk gyzlar) were doing their laundry at the mouth of this ancient cave in the Koyten Dag Mountains when a group of suitors arrived and began to bother them.

Scared and afraid, they began to pray, asking to please let them disappear. Their prayers were answered and they disappeared into the rocks of the cave.

The water that drips down inside the cave are their tears, mixing in with the mud, creating a clay-like substance on the floor of the cave.

Today travelers from all over the world (myself included) take a strip of material and dip it into the clay. Then they throw the clay-sodden cloth up into the roof and walls of the cave and make a wish.

If your material sticks, your wish will come true…if it doesn’t, it won’t.

Mine stuck. The future awaits…

Journey to the East

2009-05-22T17:42:00.000+06:00

May 18, 2009

This weekend I took a trip with a group of friends out to the mountains in the far South-East corner of Turkmenistan, near to the Uzbek-Afghan border, and it was an adventure like no other.

After an hour of haggling with a driver of a beaten up old volkswagon-like van, we began the journey, and all was well until we had to cross the Amu-Darya River. Unfortunately, the main bridge stood uncompleted, and the bridge that was usually trafficked was out of order because the water level was too high. Who would’ve thought that too much rain this season could be a bad thing?

Nevertheless we ended up waiting two hours for a ferry that we thought for sure would never come. When it finally arrived, it all became worth it…watching a small little tug boat pulling along a giant 1960s-era ferry full of trucks, cars, and old Turkmen men who would not stop staring at us was priceless.

We finally got down to the south and began tumbling through the mountains on a somewhat non-existant road which caused me to have Cambodia flashbacks. How that beat up old van made it there and back, I really can’t figure out.

We stopped at a lake to swim for a bit and had an angry encounter with a group of stupid boys. They kept taunting us and one of them covered themselves in mud and came up to me and began talking rudely to me and grabbed my arm, causing us all to start screaming as many rude, obscenities we possibly could in Turkmen.

“We’re so sorry! We’re sorry!” they apologized.

“Don’t talk to me!” I screamed. “Don’t even look at me!”

And I shunned myself back inside the van. I get so frustrated with rude boys out here, it makes my blood boil.

We stopped off to stay the night in a nearby village in the mountains. One of my friends knew someone who knew someone who might be willing to let us stay the night in their house, so we gave it a try. Since there are no phones down there, there was no way for us to call beforehand. Luckily when we showed up they welcomed us warmly, and gave us blankets and a place to sleep. We cooked some potatoes we had bought a local bazaar and slept soundly outside on the balcony surrounded by more grasshoppers than I’d ever seen in my life.

The next day we headed out at 5am to do some hiking in the mountains, and to see the longest set of dinosaur tracks in the world. Truthfully, they were smaller than I thought they’d be, but it was still cool. It’s a wonder why they aren’t better preserved, however.

Later we headed through the mountains to a nearby waterfall that was absolutely gorgeous. We climbed over the rocks and took some fresh mountain water that supposedly had some sort of healing power. Guess we’ll see, right?

We visited a cave called Kirk Gyzlar that was absolutely beautiful. Cloth strips line the walls and ceiling of this place and prayer trees are all over the place. Say a prayer, make a wish, and see if it comes true...

The thing that sort of boggled my mind was watching people, in the open, put graffiti on the walls of these mountains and caves. One man just smiled and laughed as he did it as if it was no big deal. Not cool.

The mountains out there were so gorgeous I truly wished that I could have been sent there instead of Yoloten. I know it would be difficult without a phone, and more difficult being so incredibly far away from the city, but everything was just so natural and so gorgeous.

The best part of being down there was that the people we met seemed to be incredibly happy.

I think that’s why it’s so important to get out and see more things out here, because just one village doesn’t give you a true impression of a place…this country is truly fascinating in every shape and form.

Happily Unmarried

2009-05-08T10:17:00.000+06:00

May 4, 2009

Sometimes I get so overwhelmed by the questions people ask me that I just start messing around with them.

And it makes me laugh.

Yesterday in a taxi a woman became ecstatic to hear that I was American.

“Are you married?” she asked.

“Nope. Not married. Still waiting for that special someone,” I answered with a smile.

If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that effin question I would never have to work again for the rest of my life.

“You’re not married? You have to meet my son!” she exclaimed.

“REALLY?” I feigned excitement. “Is he handsome?”

“Ohhh YES! He is sooo handsome! The most handsome boy in Yoloten!”

“OOOOOH! Is he smart?”

“Ohhhh YES! He is so smart! He studied in Turkey for four years!”

“Wow! Really? How old is he?” I asked.

“He’s 28! Just like you! It’s perfect!”

I think she already started planning the wedding in her head.

“Great! Is he rich?” I asked.

And with that she stopped talking for a few seconds and looked at me skeptically.

“Rich?” she asked. “Well you’re American! Don’t you have money?”

News, News and More News

2009-04-27T12:16:00.001+06:00

April 26, 2009

Great news is bouncing all over Yoloten, flying through the skies right now and I am beyond ecstatic.

First of all, I’d like to announce with EXTREME pride that one of my students became a FLEX finalist and will leave at the end of this summer to study for one year in America. FLEX is a program sponsored by the US Embassy that allows hardworking, dedicated students from age 14-17 to do one of their high school years in a small, US town. The goal is for them to learn about US culture and have the unique experience of exchanging cultural information and broadening their horizons.

It’s extremely competitive, thousands apply and there are only about 60 available slots open per year from Turkmenistan.

So when she told me, I was so proud I just about broke down in tears. Sometimes these kids just blow my mind with the things they make possible for themselves.

I went guesting last night in a small village in Murgap, about 40 minutes north of where I live and a young girl I met there told me that my Turkmen was perfect.

“PERFECT.”

I don’t think anyone has ever used that word to describe anything about me before…I gave her a hug because she just about made my entire month.

Speaking of this month, in honor of Earth Day, I have been doing environmentally-themed lessons over the past few weeks and one day we started talking about contamination. One of my students told me that he sometimes sees people cleaning their dead animal carcasses in the canal, a water source for many nearby houses.

I just about threw up thinking about that, but it pushes the point further of why it’s so important to be environmentally friendly.

“Don’t teach your trash to swim!” I yelled at them as they were leaving class.

Then on Earth Day itself we went down to the Murgap River to clean up trash and talk about the ecosystem. I think it was a good experience for them, even though it was kind of gross.

Since my shoes broke on the hillsides of Gushgi last weekend, I took them to the old Russian man who sits in a chair across the street from the park in Yoloten. When I went to pick them up today he smiled a big toothless grin and said, “You have something that’s broken? You take it to me! The only thing that I can’t fix is an airplane!”

Nice sales pitch, eh?.

In other news, spring is in the air and the flowers are flooding Yoloten, bringing a constant smile to my face. I sat outside and ate pistachios all afternoon today and watched my chickens fight with each other.

I’m really glad we don’t have turkeys.

The Storm from Hell

2009-04-27T12:15:00.000+06:00

April 20, 2009

Today started out as any other typical day in Yoloten…beautiful sunny skies, warm weather, etc.

I wandered through the bazaar wearing jeans, a t-shirt and flip flops, buying tomatoes and looking for some cheap apples.

Then, all of a sudden, I looked up at the sky. It was dark brown.

I turned in the other direction and within two minutes a powerful gust of wind came sweeping through, knocking over the sellers’ products and causing a massive panic.

It didn’t stop.

The wind came rolling through, more powerful than I’ve ever experienced before and the sellers started screaming, grabbing their things as fast as they could.

I turned to go back to the street to find my way home and the rain had already started, but it was unlike any other rain I had ever experienced. It pelted down viciously and turned to hail in less than a few minutes.

I was completely soaked, so I just started running.

I wasn’t the only one…everyone was running for cover, running for their homes, running somewhere to get out of this madness.

The electricity was out the entire day and parts of the roof came falling off. Some people lost their entire roofs, and the trees remain overturned in the streets.

Rumor has it that there will be another storm this week. I don’t know what’s up with this weather, but it’s been pretty insane out here…

The Journey to the Border

2009-04-27T12:11:00.000+06:00

April 19, 2009

After waiting weeks and weeks for a visa, we finally got permission to go down South to the Afghan border, and it was every bit as gorgeous as we thought it would be.

The hillsides of Serhetabat (Gushgi) are just covered in flowers, so many that all you see for miles are splotches of red, yellow and purple.

We hopped on a train early Friday morning, paid about 70 cents for the seven hour journey (the train always takes ridiculously longer) and plastered our faces to the window to see the beauty of this country that only a small handful of other Americans have ever seen.

About an hour before we arrived we were hauled into a separate compartment to be interrogated by a couple detectives.

“Why are you here? What are you doing here?” they demanded.

We gave them everything- our passports, identification cards, the address and phone number where we were staying, etc. but they were still skeptical.

“Are you going to Afghanistan?” they asked repeatedly.

“NO!” we replied. Why would I willingly stumble over the border? Doesn’t exactly seem like a fun adventure…

But after about 20 minutes or so we became friends. It also helped that they were friends with the husband of who we were staying with.

“We’ll show you the best restaurant in town!” one of them said excitedly once we arrived.

We spent two days wandering around, taking a gazillion photos with the multitudes of flowers. Up on top of a hillside a group of Afghan train mechanics pointed to the border.

“It’s right there!” they said. “You want to go?”

Was this a trick question?

As school kids learned there were four Americans in their tiny military town they began to swarm us. Some of them didn’t understand our Turkmen at all, which was interesting.

We accidentally wandered onto a military base and a group of officers started yelling in Turkmen. We could understand everything they said though, which was funny- “Who speaks English? You- go talk to those Americans! Talk to them in English! Tell them they can’t be here!”

A young officer came over to us and talked nervously. “Excuse me. What are you doing here?”

Then at night a large storm hit briefly and all the power went out. I’ll never forget how amazing the sky looked that night- just completely full of stars forever and ever.

The next day we met a dude named Begmurat who said he’d take us all the way back to Yoloten and stop wherever we wanted along the way..and that’s exactly what we did. Begmurat became our new best friend running through the flowers with us, helping us take photos and find mushrooms. They’re totally not poisonous here (I hope- I eat them all the time) and they grow all over after the rain.

We wandered through the caves of Ekedeshik at Tagtabazar on the way home- a settlement that wasn’t discovered until about 1885, although no one knows exactly how far they date back. The caves extend about 35 km but only part is safe for people to wander around in. Begmurat came with us and kept cracking ridiculous jokes like, “here’s where the disco was, guys!” or “here’s where they had a swimming pool!”

Oh what a funny dude he was.

We ate ice cream and stopped off the side of the road where a group of beekeepers kept their bees. I was surprised how calm I was surrounded by millions of bees…Begmurat wore a net.

We made it home in about 3 hours total, less than half the time it took by train, and collapsed at the local Yoloten bar to drink some really gross beer…although I’ve gotten used to it, really.

I’ve gotten used to a lot of things, and wonder if I want to stay longer out here sometimes. We’ll see what happens.

Food, Wonderful Food

2009-04-12T08:36:00.002+05:00

I had intestines for dinner two days ago.

I can still taste the cow stomach in my mouth.

I miss shrimp burritos.

Angels in the Bank

2009-04-12T08:14:00.003+05:00

March 27, 2009

Bad news: I ran out of money...

It happens sometimes (I make about $120 a month) but this time I didn't have dollars to change. So I was about to depend on friends when I decided to try an experiement.

Our bank in Mary City has a lovely little "Mastercard" symbol on the front door. Now, signs here don't really mean much- I know this. But regardless, I waltzed inside to see if I could actually try to use the "atm".

But when I got in, the sweet lady behind the counter told me that my salary had come a week early. I was super excited and she started the necessary paperwork to get it together but unfortunately at that time they were out of currency.

So I went to the next window and pulled out my Mastercard.

"Mastercard?" the other lady said in wonder. "Hmmm...."
She opened up a cabinet and took out a credit card machine that had never been used before.

"Angela, you're the first person to ever do this!" she said with excitement. They tried hooking up the machine and turning it on, but they couldn't get it to work. I watched for the next forty minutes as they tried different outlets, plugs and attempted to call Ashgabat for help.

"Really, it's no big deal if it doesn't work," I said.

"No we want to learn this!" they replied.

But finally they gave up. It just wasn't happening, and I thanked them for trying.

"Wait, Angela," they said, as they turned around to shuffle through their bags. And then they proceeded to do the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me here. They took out their own money and gave it to me.

"No, I can't take this!" I said.

"It's fine!" the ladies said, smiling. "We'll just replace it tomorrow when the money comes. You have no money! What will you do without money?"

They actually gave me my salary from their own pockets.

And so it goes, I met some real-life angels in a bank in Mary City. The beauty in the people here never ceases to amaze me.

Toyly Bolsun!

2009-03-23T09:48:00.002+05:00

The past few weeks at my house have been incredibly hectic, with my host cousin getting married this weekend, and in all honesty, I spent most of the time being irritated by the whole process. I mean, it was so much work, there was so much hoopla over these insignificant details and I just wasn't into dealing with it at all.

But on the day of the wedding celebration I found that I was actually jealous, and I even started to cry a little watching her dance with her new husband.

All those little insignificant details, and all the fuss and hoopla the families went through and everything was actually so beautiful. Here this woman is so tightly surrounded by family and so loved and cared for in every possible way. The culture here is incredibly rich and all these things I see as silly and unimportant actually hold meaning that I can't really understand.

The morning after the first celebration we all met up at her house as she began to dress in the traditional bridal clothing. She wept as the woman braided her hair, covered her head and face and laid the traditional bridal coat around her, because this is the time when she would be taken from her own family to begin a new life with her husband's family.

When the groom's family arrived, a few boys began to play the drums and clarinet outside and a bunch of us women stood guard at the entrance to her room. The bride's brother came through and gave us all money as payment for us to allow them to get through the door to take her away. We began loading all her things into the cars, and then her new husband came through to take her away.

We all headed into Ashgabat that afternoon for the second celebration in the evening. Here is where they signed the official documents and toasted to the beginning of their new lives together. She looked so incredible...so beautiful. I can't imagine how she felt during this time because I barely had a chance to talk with her.

But I understand a little bit better, because here is a close friend of mine, someone I've grown to know and love for the past year and a half. And now she is gone, and I don't know how often I'll get to see her again over my remaining eight months here.

I don't know why I never saw the true beauty in life here...I don't know why I complain so much sometimes. But I do believe people here are luckier than they really know.

Bread and Butter

2009-03-13T12:48:00.000+05:00

March 12, 2009

Last night my friend and I were laying on the floor of my room going through the People magazines my mother recently sent and we started talking about her birthday next week.

We went through the list of food we would make and discussed what other things we’d put out for people to eat.

“I will get some nuts and raisins for the table,” she said.

“Why don’t we just put out some bread and butter for everyone? That’s simple enough.”

“Bread and butter!” She exclaimed. “BREAD AND BUTTER?”

And she then proceeded to burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“What?” I asked. “Why is that funny?”

“BREAD AND BUTTER!”

She wouldn’t stop laughing.

“WHY IS THAT FUNNY?” I yelled.

“You eat bread and butter for BREAKFAST, Angela! Not at dinner!”

“What? You can’t eat bread and butter with your dinner? We do that all the time in America. It’s NORMAL.”

She was still laughing.

“Ohhhhhh they would just laugh at me and gossip about me if I were to put out bread and butter at my BIRTHDAY dinner!”

“IT’S NORMAL!” I yelled.

“You are so strange,” she said.

“I’M STRANGE?” I exclaimed. “You think I’M the one who’s strange? You guys sweep your carpet and sleep on the floor! You think if I sit on cold ground I’ll become infertile! And you think I’M strange?”

We were laughing so hard tears were streaming out of our eyes at this point.

“Okay, Angela what else? What else you got?” she asked. “Come to my house and we will have a birthday BREAKFAST with bread and butter if you like!”

“IT’S NORMAL TO EAT BREAD AND BUTTER WITH YOUR DINNER!”

“You are so strange,” she said.

Kids on Coffee!

2009-03-06T16:04:00.001+05:00

If you love me you'll send me coffee.

Real coffee. You know, the ground stuff that you have to put in a filter...

Oh coffee...sweet wonderful coffee...

Rainbows and Butterflies

2009-02-20T12:42:00.003+05:00

I really want a shrimp burrito right now.

It's all I can think about.

This week I was convinced I had appendicitis.

Don't worry, people. I do not, in fact, have appendicitis.

I have mid-service-itis...

On the positive side, I successfully started teaching with other teachers this week, and I found cream cheese in Yoloten. It's incredibly expensive, and not so often that the shop has it, but oh so delicious.

I also successfully cooked chicken tiki masala. Who's jealous out there, hmmm?

My boots are completely broken and I had to throw them away. Hopefully it won't snow next December before I vacate this magical world. Let's keep hope alive, guys!

My host cousin is getting married March 20 and it's the most exciting event of my Peace Corps experience, so far...the family is coming this weekend to pay the bride price. I'm making two cakes. Mmmmm....

My students have been coming to my lessons for over a year now, and their English has had incredible improvement. Students who could barely tell me their name are talking about fairness and idioms, etc.

I kind of don't want to leave, but we'll see how I feel in a few months. Spring is a glorious time for Turkmenistan...rainbows and butterflies everywhere.

Mutton for Breakfast

2009-02-13T12:09:00.002+05:00

Yesterday I bit into a nice fatty piece of mutton while I was eating my oatmeal for breakfast.

It was the fourth most disgusting thing that's happened to me here.

I don't get it...why can't shops keep meats and grains separate? Is it that hard?

Sooooo gross....

My Toilet is Cooler Than Your Toilet

2009-01-29T08:44:00.000+05:00

January 28, 2009

It takes less than four hours to have a new toilet.

I know this because we now have a new toilet.

It’s actually a very simple process…fill in one hole, dig another, pop that outhouse on top of the new hole and ba-BAM! New toilet paradise.

Naturally my pampered mind immediately thought of those shiny porcelain things we have in America when my host mother told me we had a new toilet.

But I came back to reality real quick. It’s a beautiful thing- hardly any smell, less flies, and better yet- no spashback worries!

If that isn’t good news, I don’t know what is.

Halfway There

2009-01-29T08:38:00.000+05:00

January 22, 2009

I should be beaming with pride right now because I have officially made it through one full year of service as a United States Peace Corps Volunteer in Turkmenistan.

But I’m kind of freaking out.

I have only eleven months left to get done everything I need to get done in order to prove my time here successful.

And I don’t know if I can do it.

My goals for Peace Corps Turkmenistan 2009 (in no particular order):

-Finish the Turkmen-Russian-English cookbook

-Write a grant for the printing costs of the cookbook

-Have a successful book club (IN PROGRESS, WOOOOOO!)

-Bring my intermediate students to the advanced level

-See at least one advanced student get into a university (I know this is out of my hands, but it would be awesome…simply awesome)

-Draw a world map with my students

-Write a grant for a dvd player for my school

-Score Intermediate High in Russian on the Language Proficiency Test

-Score Advanced Mid in Turkmen on the Language Proficiency Test

-Take the GREs and score well

-Apply to grad school

-Figure out what the heck I’m going to do with the rest of my life

One year has past and at this time last year I was a scared new volunteer, freezing in cheap Talkuchka boots not really sure what I was doing here.

A year later, I’m no longer scared, the Talkuchka boots have completely snapped on the bottom allowing muddy water to seep into my socks, and I’m not unsure what I’m doing here…only of how to accomplish everything that needs to be done.

Just a few more weeks of winter...

Home Sweet Home

2009-01-11T15:51:00.002+05:00

Twenty-f0ur hours ago I was sitting on the steps of the Taj Mahal.

I am now in Ashgabat eating leftover naan from last night's dinner.

Vacation was awesome, but it's good to be back, as always.

2009 is going to be a very promising year.

Goa to Delhi

2009-01-09T13:51:00.002+05:00

Thirty-two hours on the train...

11 cups of masala chai...

9 card games...

eight samosas...

six different types of curry...

four bowls of rice...

Three good friends...

Two books...

One stupid man who wouldn't stop touching my feet...

zero blankets...

zero heat.

I will never, ever complain about the trains in Turkmenistan again.

Beautiful Goa

2009-01-05T10:09:00.003+05:00

After lying on the beach sipping pina coladas all afternoon yesterday I asked my sweet Indian waiter for my bill.

He smiled and started writing on a small piece of paper, then turned and handed it to me.

"Here is your bill," he said.

I looked at the paper and smiled. It said, "I love you so much. You have such a beautiful smile. Please come back for drinks later and don't ever stop smiling."

Unfortunately I didn't have time to return in the evening, but I will someday. I promise.

I really love it here.

Hindustan is Delicious

2008-12-31T10:06:00.003+05:00

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

2008-12-31T09:55:00.002+05:00

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

2008-12-31T09:30:00.003+05:00

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

2008-12-27T16:26:00.003+05:00

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

2008-12-27T15:59:00.002+05:00

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

2008-11-28T10:27:00.003+05:00

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!!!!!!!!!!

2008-11-14T18:36:00.002+05:00

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

2008-11-14T09:10:00.003+05:00

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

2008-11-07T10:05:00.000+05:00

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

2008-11-07T10:04:00.000+05:00

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!

2008-11-07T10:03:00.000+05:00

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

2008-10-24T18:18:00.000+06:00

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

2008-10-17T11:49:00.000+06:00

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

2008-10-03T09:09:00.002+06:00

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...

2008-09-30T10:25:00.003+06:00

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

2008-09-19T12:14:00.001+06:00

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…

2008-09-19T12:14:00.000+06:00

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…

2008-09-12T13:47:00.000+06:00

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

2008-09-12T13:46:00.000+06:00

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

2008-09-12T13:44:00.000+06:00

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

2008-08-27T07:33:00.000+06:00

It's good to be home.

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

2008-08-26T18:17:00.004+06:00

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...

2008-08-22T13:50:00.003+06:00

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

2008-08-18T14:56:00.004+06:00

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!

2008-08-16T20:19:00.004+06:00

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?

2008-08-14T16:42:00.004+06:00

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

2008-07-31T14:14:00.003+06:00

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

2008-07-19T14:09:00.000+06:00

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?

2008-07-17T15:42:00.001+06:00

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...

2008-07-15T06:16:00.000+06:00

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

2008-07-14T16:47:00.000+06:00

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

2008-07-11T18:23:00.000+06:00

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???

2008-07-09T22:38:00.000+06:00

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...

2008-07-05T13:41:00.000+06:00

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

2008-06-30T23:14:00.000+06:00

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

2008-06-29T10:07:00.000+06:00

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

2008-06-16T15:17:00.002+06:00

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

2008-06-16T15:17:00.001+06:00

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

2008-06-16T15:10:00.000+06:00

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

2008-06-01T13:52:00.000+06:00

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

2008-05-30T15:17:00.000+05:00

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!!!!!