Ramadan in Bolshevik

I live east of Bishkek, about 10 miles southwest of Tokmok (on the map). The village is called Bolshevik, but people who don't live here lump it together with the nieghboring village of Ak-Beshim. Together the villages have about 400-500 people. Its close to Kazakhstan, but we're not allowed to go there yet because we don't have visas. And to get into China, I'm pretty sure we have to fly there. But that's second-hand news from other volunteers, so who knows.

I'm adding a few more things to my list of needs/wants. Check out the end of this entry if you are considering sending a package. And I'm adding pictures of the hotel we stayed at in Bishkek. But they'll be dated for september, so look for them.

10/13/05
Last night I was having tea with the Turkish family that lives next door to me. Salbina, my new friend, is their granddaughter. She was telling me that the daughter-in-law, who is only 20 with 2 kids, is a bad wife because she didn't hang up her jacket and doesn't mend clothes. This poor girl was doing everything, while the family sat around and talked. I think I would be the worst wife ever in this culture (if I was inclined to get married).

And yesterday afternoon I got my third round of vaccinations. That makes 11 shots since I've been in country and they're not done yet. I'm always sore and sluggish for a couple days afterwards, but I've been doing well other than that. My roommate for the staging event and first few days in country passes out when she gets shots. At least I'm not that bad off.

I know you all want to see pictures, but both of my cameras are out of commission. I'm pretty sure the digital camera needs new batteries and the video camera is beyond me. I don't know what I'm going to do about that yet. But please send pictures to me (in the mail, they don't work well on the internet). My photo album is only half full, and my host family wants to see more!



10/12/05
This morning I saw my favorite kids' outfit yet. There were six of us waiting on the road for our marshrutka driver this morning. A boy of about 4-5 years ran by in blue long underwear, a light blue long sleeve t-shirt, a purple velour vest, black socks and green sandals. And he was happy as a clam. It was cold too, we were all wearing heavy coats.

Two days ago I stopped to talk to the Turkish ladies on the street. There’s one lady in particular who just cracks me up. She speaks Kyrgyz really fast and then laughs when I don’t understand. But she has a loud, jolly laugh and wears colorful, mismatched village clothes. She’s one of my favorites. While I was sitting with her, one of the other village ladies walked by with her flock of sheep. She wanted to talk to my funny Turkish friend so she told her sheep to stop. And they did. They just waited right where they were in the middle of the road. When she was done talking she gave another command and they started walking again. Like a bunch of dogs. I absolutely love village life.

Later that night, I was at my teacher’s house and she asked if I wanted to go with her to my neighbor’s house. She is staying with a Turkish family and my neighbors are the grandparents of her host family. We went there for a Ramadan tradition to remember the dead. These are bits and pieces of information I’ve put together. Ramadan lasts for 30 days and the remembrance of the dead lasts the whole time. People were at this house all day – reading the Koran, slaughtering a sacrificial sheep, and cooking the sacrificial sheep. When I got there they ushered me into the house where the men were seated in one room and the women in another. A tablecloth is laid out on the ground and the food on top of that. And around the tablecloth there’s tushuks to sit on. I only stayed for tea and the first course (soup). A little while after they’d served the soup everyone became silent. One of the men in the other room was reading a passage from the Koran. These readings are supposed to take about 3 minutes, but this guy made it close to 15. It was in Arabic, so I had no idea what was going on. After about 10 minutes the women started talking and laughing, and eventually the men were laughing in the other room. Everytime we thought he was finished, he would start up again. Turns out it was his 81st birthday. He has the right to take as long as he wants with the Koran. And I don’t think he even noticed that everyone was laughing.