25 Things I ♥ About Kazakhstan:

1. Clean hands, when I have them.
2. My host family. Louisa and Doomira are dead set on fattening me up by wintertime. I won’t protest— Doomira’s raspberry preserves are a gift from God. Supposedly, it cures colds, so I eat the stuff plain (you know…preventative).
3. My neighborhood. Just look at the picture of the road to my house. It still takes my breath away. I live in the Turkish sect of the village, and the culture is very vibrant. Dancing and loud music are the norm, and I’ll opt for traditional Turkish music over Russian pop any day.
4. Chocolate butter. Yep.
5. My friend Jack’s host family feeds him doughnuts for lunch every day. They are the new dietary staple in his life. Most people fear that in K-stan they’ll have to eat horseflesh or sheep’s eyes or something of the sort. At least Jack can rest assured. What do you eat for lunch in K-stan? Why, jelly doughnuts of course!
6. There’s nothing more fun than 15 babushkas discussing my perplexing, non-existent love life over chai. Why am I twenty-three and unmarried?... Surely, I have a husband working back at home… Is my husband dead? … Did I come to Kazakhstan to find a husband???
7. Teenaged boys who think I’ve hung the moon. Sure, it’s flattering. They are mostly the grandsons and nephews of the women I associate with, so I have to be very gentle in the matter of rejection. Maybe if I were 10 years younger…
8. Outhouse mishaps. They are hilarious when they happen.
9. 5 am toasts. I can never remember if I love’ em or hate’ em.
10. Kerblockistani time. Are all of the clocks 20 hours behind or 4 hours ahead? …. eh…who cares…
11. Cute, rabid lap dogs and free roaming cows—ain’t no thing.
12. Perfect silences are often broken with a thick, Russki-accented, “HELLO! WHAT-IS-YOUR-NAME!!!” followed by giggles and footsteps scuffling in the opposite direction.
13. Toilet paper? Oh… you mean the yellowing pages of last week’s village gazette! There’s an issue waiting ‘round back with my name all over it.
14. Tonight’s dinner was alive and grazing in the back yard when I left for school this morning.
15. Sour cream and mayonnaise are not condiments, but side dishes.
16. Every passing vehicle is a brush with death. My life flashes before my eyes twice daily on the walk to and from school. No worries, though. My soul is prepared.
17. The women. The married ones are very warm and hospitable--and fabulous cooks. The younger ones are more concerned with teaching me how do dance like a beautiful and proper Turkish/Kazak girl than anything else. And I’m very eager to learn!
18. Waking at 5:30 to the Muslim call to prayer. Really. I’m totally a morning person now.
19. Banyas Banyas Banyas. They’re so relaxing, like a sauna. Because I bathe less frequently here than I did at home, the post Banya squeaky-clean feeling I get here is a thousand times more intense than the feeling I’d get after a regular, old shower in the States. It’s always good sleepin’ on Banya nights.
20. I appreciate every mix CD ever made for me in ways that I hadn’t before. They have been the most unlikely (and strangely surreal) soundtracks to my situation here.
21. Memories of friends, food, and my childhood are much, much sweeter on this side of the world.
22. The night sky. I love my starlit walks to the “bathroom” before bedtime. If you’re looking for the perfect place to count meteors, consider Anyvillage, Kazakhstan. I’m tempted to say that it rivals the Texas Hill Country in this aspect.
23. I’ve checked my pride at the door. Nothing will embarrass me after babbling two years worth of pseudo-Russian gibberish and aimlessly walking around my village like some kind of foreign idiot throughout PCT.
24. Culture shock has affected me in such a way that I’m becoming more withdrawn from my American peers and more inclined to write letters, poetry, in my journal, and/or draw. With this kind of creative channeling, I think I’ll be an alright artist by the time I return. Right now I’m translating the poetry of Joseph Brodski, which is pretty time consuming. Hopefully it will help me to get a firmer handle on the Russian language.
25. My Russian language teachers. They are amazing. I hesitate to say that I’ve reached a high level of proficiency, but I can communicate just about idea that pops into my head after only a month of language training. I’m definitely fluent at this point. Don’t ask me to speak on the spot, though. It don’t work like that.