On the road again...Shymkent time

Our 14 hour train rides give me time to reminisce on the last 21 days in Shymkent. Lance and I are sharing a train compartment with a 42 Kazakh villager and her daughter. She is on her way to Bejing for treatments for her daughter who has epilepsy. She has a very long trip ahead of her too. We shared tea with her. She's a teacher of Kazakh in her village.




At one of the stops, we got out of the train and visited the Kazakh "fast food" venues. You see the locals are very fast at these stops, jumping on board the trains as quickly as we deboarded for some new air. They were hawking their chicken, boiled eggs, baked fish, pancakes with sour cream (unrefrigerated I might add). You name it, they sold it. In the 10 minutes frenzy, many stomachs were satiated and others sickened...sour cream in 93 degrees in my stomach with still 4hours of riding these rails...then suddenly with a throw of a blanket, all the food was covered safely, ready for the next train.




One of the things I remember fondly is Shymkent time. Whenever Slava was coming to get us, he always replied 8:05 Shymkent time. (translation: fashionably late!). I only saw Robin flustered twice this trip: the day Slava was 20 minutes late to open the building and this morning. Slava told us to be ready at 4 am, so we were. At 4:10, even Maksat, a local friend, wanted to call Slava to find out why he was late since our train was scheduled to leave a 5 am. While on the phone, he laughed, hung up and said, "Slava said the train is leaving at 5:45 and not at 5 like he told us, so he'd be there at 4:30. He had found out about the time change the night before but didn't tell us. Needless-to-say, we have been power napping all the way. Then at the train station, we couldn't print our tickets...something about ALL the computers being down. Then an announcement came over the PA, "the train will be 15 min. late." Even the train was on Shymkent time...In the end, Slava was right--we would get our tickets in time.
And so we boarded, saying good-bye to Slava and Shymkent time.

To be continued... Almanty time.


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School...an education in culture

Most schools are the same no matter where I am in the world. The major difference is the kids who appear at the door step each and every morning. There's one student, who isn't even I my class who greets me every morning, always the first one there. His name is Diaz, and 10 year old who some day will be president. He's always saying, "In English, in English" to the other students in the elementary level. Anyway, here greets me every morning with "Hello teacher" to which I reply, "Hello, how are you?" He replies, "I am fine. How are you.". No matter what my reply, he always says, "Fine." He's got that down pat...



I have no clue whether my beginner students understand a thing I 'm saying. We have very interesting conversations..."turn to paragraph 1. Paragraph 1? Yes, paragraph 1. Paragraph 1. Yes." And so it goes.

My intermediate group sometimes laughs, especially when I resell it and say it is funny. "what is a running nose? Idioms like "buzz cut", "snail's pace", and so on.

With the intermediate group, my highest level, they get almost all the vocabulary. However, in one story, a girl called her sailboat, "Guppy," and they had no idea what it meant, especially in relationship to the story. We talked about symbolism...then everything clicked for them. "We were all on the same page...". There was some confusion about the word " St. Maarten." Most do the students were pronouncing "street" and not "saint.". That was confusing both to me and to them.

We have use of a small copy machine. You run one side, take the copies out, put them back in to make the other side...and so it goes. It takes about one hour of copying to make three sets of stories, 40 copies total. Then I have to collate and staple if there is time. The copier usually overheats, runs out of toner or paper, which means we have to go to the store for more. We usually have two packages of paper at any one time. With temperatures in the high nineties outside, it's usually much hotter inside. We have been drinking about 4 liters of water during our classes.



Then, there's the bathrooms. I haven't even mentioned them yet. There are two toilets/stalls on our floor. They are squatty potties, basically a hole in the floor. Since we are on the 3rd floor, we have trouble with the water pressure. Therefore, we have to pour drinking water into the hole for flushing. And we need to provide our own TP. Just think how much schools could save. And kids would't be so anxious to go to the bathroom...since I carry the backpack in our group of teachers, I also am "designated toilet paper guy."

The bottom photo shows kids watching and discussing the movie "Invictus, " a film we used for an afternoon activity.

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Birthday Gourmet

Thursday was my birthday. Even though I have celebrated it 58 times, on this occasion there were many firsts.

Our first course began with mare's milk, usually given to men and camel's milk, usually given to women. Slava ordered two bowls of it and left it for us to try as he went to get his wife and children. Grazina was eager to try it, so we allowed her the honors. Lance went next. He was still smiling when he said this is the most awful stuff I have ever tasted, comforting both Robin and me,who had yet to taste it. Robin pointed to me, the birthday boy, to try next. So I did. Lance was right. Not even one to like cow's milk, I sipped the mare's milk-yogart gone bad mixed with horse sweat and camel's milk, a little stronger in taste. Then, we had green tea. I never thought I eat and vegetables, would appreciate tea so much.

When Slava and Zhanet arrived, we ordered a traditional Kazakh feast--Beshparmak, flat large noodles with slices of horse meat, lamb sausage with live, rice and other entrails stuffed into sheep intestines, noodle soup with


horse meat, lamb on the bone, Baursak, deep fried popover and Greek salad. It was all vert tastey--all firsts for me. After dinner, we were so full we all decided to go for a walk in one of the local parks. On the way to the park, Grazina bought a soda and a surprise--Kurt, small, marble shaped white treats. Lance tried one and immediately spit it out--too salty and smelled like old milk. Come to find out it's old milk, with a little flour, salt--all rolled into a ball and dried in the


sun for days. So we all shared a pack of gum and walked.

Indeed, it was a day of firsts and some lasts. Some of those tastes never leave...


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Our teacher friends

All over the world, teachers seem to be the same. They talk about students, share stories, and know their purpose--to take their students to a higher level of understanding. When Robin and I met these teachers at our seminar, we had no idea where and how fast these relationships would grow. You see, after the two day seminar, the teachers asked if we could talk to them every day for about two hours. So Robin worked it into the already tight schedule.

So every day for the past week we have met, discussing cultural topics, teaching practices and life. We've enjoyed their company and gotten to know them very well. Umida, an Uzbek, made me a cake for my birthday and then they invited us all out to the ballet. She said it will be a surprise evening and it was. After the ballet, which was a potpourri of dances from many ballets, they loaded us in a Korean SUV while all the other teachers got into a cab and found the restaurant, while Urmida took us down the main street, showed us the masque and call to worship, and then took us to the restaurant where we met the others. We shared a shashlik (kabob) platter--pork chops, mutton, chicken, grilled minced meat, and wild carp. This we shared with two salads, one Russian, one Greek. And of course green and black tea. It was a wonderful evening--digesting both culture and cuisine. It was a very late night but well worth it.



Today,we went to the mountains...what can you say. They were beautiful. It was about a two hour trek. We got there and Slava arranged for lunch. His friend was the cook. He seems to know everyone. We were at a summer camp for children in the foothills of the mountains between Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan. While we were waiting for lunch, we walked around the grounds, over a fast running river, nice and cold, and then found a yurt campground. After lunch--soup, apple salad and stuffed peppers, we went climbing. We hiked about 1000 ft up the mountain, built a fire and made smores. Slava and I washed off in the river, dousing my shirt and hat with a fresh mountain stream. There were horses roaming all around us in the brush. After a couple of hours, we hired back down to the car and left.



On the way home, the police stopped Slava's car to check the registration. He didn't have his seatbelt on since he forgot to reattach it when he stopped earlier for mare's milk. That stuff will get you every time. Diana, his daughter, was in the back of the Subaru, an illegal rider. After talking to the police for awhile, Slava came back to the car, got something and returned to the police. They smiled, he came back bad away we drove. We asked him what he came back for and he smiled--Snicker bars. The trip back was hot, dusty and uneventful, except for the horse we saw at a bus stop eating out of the garbage can.




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Names and other things

Lithuanian names used to just stretch the vocal chords a bit, but my new students' Kazakh names will be the ultimate test.
Askarova
Togjan
Kyzzhibek
Magzhan
Asel...all girls so far
Sham ills
Bibigul
Zhanybek...first male
Shirin
Abzal
Gulzhana
Otesh
Gulchekra
Shakhnoza
Alihanids
Merey.......and the list goes on

I sure hope these students have a sense of humor, for there will be some mispronunciations. Everything is pretty set for Monday's classes. The rooms are quite small, so it's good there are less than 10 kids in each class. I had to reprint some articles at Grade 2. Then I am going with Grades 4 and 6 to start off. Our teachers' seminar were successful...so successful that the teachers want to continue them after the student lessons for the next 10 days. So, I will teach from 9-1, have lunch and continue from 2:30-4. It will be a full day.

I live about 20 minutes by bus/ walking at the Baptist church building. Slava is pastor there and also director do the school. The two entities are separate, except that Slava has ties to both. It has it's confusions, but living in a new culture means adapting to their rules and cultural nuances. It's all good.

Have I mentioned the weather? For me it is hot...+90 every day. However, the humidity is only around 14%. I don't sweat as much here. Last night , Slava and his wife invited us over for supper. They live in a first floor Russian style apartment building. They have two children: a girl about 5 and a newborn baby boy about 4 months. After supper we played hide and seek with the 5 year old. It was a good evening, yet it was very tiring.

Below is a shot from the teacher seminar...




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Location:1 May St,Shymkent,Kazakhstan

The land of Borat...NOT

It's still difficult to figure out what day it is, but I do know I am in Shymkent. In fact as of 6 am, the whole team has now arrived with Lance getting in tired after traveling since Saturday with all his delays and missed connections.

On Tuesday, Robin, Grazina and I toured the Senior English Center, wher we will be teaching. We met with Slava, an Albanian missionary to Kazakhstan who directs the program along with Karot, a Kazakh, who showed us around the city-- how to take busses, where to find local caves--basic survival needs when in a new city. Shymkent is a sprawling city of 1,000,000 people. On the streets, at least 10 people came up to us and asked if we were Americans. They just wanted to speak English with native speakers. They don't see Americans here very often. That was fun. Every one here is friendly and very helpful. We've met 3 LCC students who live here and now are working. In their words, English opened many doors for them. Slava took us to a cafe for some Kazakh food--the lamb is so tender and delicious. When I got a Coke, it came in a liter bottle--30 cents. The bus ride sets us back 20 cents. All the busses are independently owned. There's a person on board who shouts, come to my bus, at every stop. It's very entertaining. The weather


is dry and hot--90+ every day. Today, it's back to school for more specific planning-- lance and Grazina for testing and Robin and I for teacher seminars for Thursday and Friday. Lance and I are staying ing pink house, Robin and Grazina in green house. The two day seminars went really well, talking about and discussing different teaching pedagogy, practices and differentiation strategies. The most difficult task for me is remembering and then saying the names. I will save those for another blog. So far we only have 36 registered students-- it't kind of like "if you teach, they will come." Slava, our host, has invited us over for supper tonight at his house. Makes at, an LCC grad who works at the English Center, said he was serving horse...we probably won't because it is expensive, but I look forward to it. Today, I ate lunch--plove, a rice, meat, carrot mixture, a cucumber and tomato salad bread and a pressed fruit drink for $1. After school each day, we go to the open market for apples, bananas, and apricots. The ladies there are very patient and one even had me count the change in Kazakh. She was my teacher. On Saturday, we will go back to the center for more registration. Since the teacher seminars went over so well, they have asked us for 10 more 90 minute sessions after our student classes. Cool.


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Where is the exit? If you are Russian, go to the exit...

After 4 hours in Russian airport quarantine, we were finally allowed or should I say escorted to a bus for transport to Terminal D--the domestic terminal. It took 3 airport personnel to escort us to the bus, two more people to drive the bus with another person driving the trail car to get to Terminal D. While on the bus, I snapped a photo of the plane graveyard. See below. We waited about 10 minutes until someone opened the door and told us to walk up the stairs. I was the last one up the stairs when suddenly the line of people stopped moving--due to barrier on 2nd floor stairs. The guard who let us in started yelling, keep going up, keep going up--apparently not realizing the barrier was in place. We finally removed the barrier and kept climbing to the 5th floor, the secret section where we went through another check point, and where we were in our 2nd quarantine. No one was at the gait for us to pass through, yet the sign in English read, don't be late for check in...

On the way over before getting on the bus, Grazina started to translate some of the conversation exchanges between a Russian airport worker and a passenger. The


passenger asked where the exit was. The worker replied, if you are Russian, go to the exit. The passenger then repeated the question, where is the exit. Response, if you are Russian, GO to the exit...the three of us just broke out laughing--probably the product of a 5 hour quarantine. This whole experience reminds me of my passage through Kiev. We sat and waited in a hot and run down section of the airport, only to be let in to the new and air conditioned section complete with shops just minutes before our pane departed.

I promised myself that whenever I returned to Russia, I would bring with me a stamp and almost dry ink pad...well, I forgot...and It sure would have helped. But I did see a number of airport workers with them...

We heard from Lance, our companion who was to meet up with us in Almaty. He got delayed in Phoenix, which dominoes his departures to Almanty. He arrives a day later...hopefully he gets through to the train and gets to Shymkent. Maybe it'll be more fodder for the fire.

Note on photo: the 3 planes in foreground are working and in good order. All the rest in the background are isolated on the grass, just off the run way.
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Location:Moscow Terminal D quarantine

Rolling along the rails of southern Kazakhstan

The day at the Bible Institute of Almanty was a welcome relief after the overnight plane from Moscow to Almanty. Alexandr picked us up at 5 am. Almanty was just starting to wake with an orange glow reflecting off the 24,000 foot Teng Chen mountains surrounding this city. We arrived at the institute only to fall back asleep for the remainder of the morning. I took a cold shower, which actually felt rather refreshing in the 93 degree heat. At 9am, they served breakfast, a noodle and milk combination, slightly warm, with toasted bread crumbs on top...and tea. We actually have tea for every meal....back in the land of tea.

Robin and Grazina joined me for lunch of liver and rice--flashbacks to Thursday night dinners growing up...and tea. Then, we took a walk around the Bible complex, which had 21 pianos all being tuned today, left the premise and found money machines and markets. I got three 10,000 Teng notes (150-1$ exchange). I went to the store to buy bottled water for the 14 hour train ride, handed the clerk the 10,000 bill and she couldn't make change. I don't know if I can break it...

Alexandr had soup ready for us at 4pm, so we could catch the 5:20pm train. He was a great and gracious host. He drove us to the train and made sure we got into the right sleeper car...I was excited for the train ride. We pulled
out of the station with Swiss precision, rode slowly through town, and watched it fade in the distance. I had a great view of the mountain range as the train headed southwest. The landscape reminded me of traveling West through South Dakota. The horizon was littered with green sagebrush, goats and sheep and cowboys. And I was only 2 hours into the 14 hour marathon.


To help break the time, one of our traveling companions was a 72 year old grandma from Kazakhstan. She shared pickles, meat baked pasties and of course tea. Then, she gave me an apple...how appropriate since I had just finished reading Apples are from Kazakhstan, a travelogue about this place. After eating, she folded her legs on the bed and said her evening prayers, telling us how nice it was to share and accept hospitality. There are good people all over the world.

The train stops at little villages along the way. I wonder who would live out here or what do they do for a living? As the trains stops, life sprouts along the platform with ladies pushing karts of food for sale. There's chicken, bread, bottled drinks. Little kids selling trinkets. For 10 minutes, the train breathes life to this place. Then as quickly as it comes, it leaves. The women drape their carts with shawls and wait...wait for the next train.



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Location:Between Almaty and Shymkent

You are in Moscow...you are not people

Robin, Grazina and I were picked up at the university by mini bus and taken directly to the Lithuanian airport in Vilnius. That's when the adventure REALLY began. At the Transaero (Aeroflot) check in, we were given our baggage claims, and then the girl pulled us aside and with a grin said, go to the transfer desk in Moscow and they will do something or something else with it. If you don't, your bags may not go through to Kazakhstan. She reiterated as we walked away, be flexible...

One the plane, the pilot, keep maneuvering around the clouds. It seemed odd to to going up and down , to the left and right over and over. Oh well...I 'm not in Kansas. Landing in Moscow was a hoot. The sides of the runways were literally littered with dozens ( not exaggerating) of planes. Robin jested they were for spare parts. Once in we're went to the transfer desk...where they told us to wait for 3 hours since we didn't have transfer visas--which we didn't need anyway because we're we're not leaving the airport. Grazina, our Russian interpreter, turned to us and said, you are in Moscow, you are not people...so in quarantine, I write these notes. At least there are toilets in the area. Grazina asked the girl at the counter again why we had to wait...she kindly told us that since Kazakh airlines leaves from the domestic terminal and tha we are in the international terminal, without a transit visa, we are not allowed out of the area. They will transport us two hours before our flight. We arrived at 1:30...our plan departs at 10:45. Do the math...


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Location:Moscow airport...quarantined

The waiting game

After Jude and Grayson dropped me off in Milwaukee, my waiting game began. I waited a couple of hours there before taking off on time, 4 hours in Copenhagen before boarding the flight to Palanga. It does seem like a waste of time, but on the other hand, Jude and I have been known to dash through Some airports--Amsterdam, Warsaw--to name a few and that was not fun either. But since I remain my own travel agent, I am just happy when I get to my destination...it's the simple things in life that matter.

One cool thing that happened in Copenhagen though. My seat assignment was row 39A-- a window seat. There were 46 rows. They deboarded the plane from the rear...how cool. My misfortune turned to fortune.

People watching from the Starbuck's made the time go a little quicker. I never go to Starbuck's in the States--I refuse to pay those prices when I can make my own for fraction of the cost. But here it's different. I paid 4.38 euros ( it all seems like monopoly money) $5.44. But it was a large , and it did help pass the time, and can you tell I am rationalizing...No matter the price, this place has had long lines for two hours...the economy among travelers must be good or they are rationalizing like me.

When I left Milwaukee, it was 57 F, Copenhagen was 52 F, Palanga was 54 F and Shymkent will be 93 F. Go figure. Landed in Palanga and was greeted with blustery winds and a driving rain...gotta love it.


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Location:Copenhagen or any of the many airports