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ll extraordinary things become mundane after awhile. Remember that Pluto used to be a planet? Yeah. I think we're all used to its relegated status of "rock" by now. And cell phones? I mean, I didn't even have one until my sophomore year of college – that was only six years ago. Now they're ubiquitous – even Turkmen in tiny tucked away villages have them! Novelty is ephemeral; after the shiny luster and new smells disappear, it seems as though all this new stuff was always a part of our lives. It takes conscious effort to remember back to a time pre-innovation when cell phones were big and boxy, the internet didn't exist, computers had only one color and games like "Grover in Space" were all the rage.
If this is the way of the world these days, is it any wonder that I feel the same way about Turkmenistan? My existence here, which once seemed so bizarre, has become very routine and ordinary. I wake up, eat breakfast, go to work, eat lunch, go back to work, come home, read/exercise/watch movies, eat dinner, read/exercise/watch movies, go to bed and do it all over again. I'm merely another hamster running on the wheel, like so many others. My wheel just happens to be in Central Asia. Other than that, is my life so different from yours?
Of course there are occasions when I'm walking in the village and all of a sudden it hits me that I'm in my second year of Peace Corps service in Turkmenistan. It always leaves me amazed for a few seconds. Wow! Peace Corps! Turkmenistan! Then I hurry on my way and the thought doesn't occur to me again for another few weeks.
The other day my dad remarked to me that it had been a while since I'd sent an email about my life here. He said he missed all the character descriptions of emails past. I'd introduced people to him via my emails only to leave him hanging for more information. He had a point. I've been remiss. I just don't know what to write about anymore. Although I do realize that while life here seems pretty quotidian to me, it's still new to all of you. So the challenge for me now is to file through events in my mind and decide what would be interesting for you all to read, no matter how normal it might seem to me. Hey, if Erma Bombeck can make every day life New York Times Bestseller worthy, it shouldn't be that hard.
We have a kitten, a tabby named Boris. He's really sweet – loves to catch flies, climb the curtains and curl up in laps. He's learned where meat comes from and stalks the kitchen, going as far as climbing into the refrigerator when it's opened. It's amusing, but unsanitary for sure. A few days ago he was nosing around on the middle shelf, mewing for food and deciding whether or not the butter would be a good substitute for beef. It was not.
The car – it's an early 90-something – is on its last legs. My host dad wants to buy a "new" one, but my host mom tells him that he drives too fast to buy a new car. Our village road is too pot-holed to get any real speed, but many drivers do take advantage of space between pot holes to go fast. They speed for about 50 yards before they have to slam on the brakes and negotiate the pocked asphalt and then they're off speeding for another 25 yards. The stretch of road between my village and the next is fairly clear of obstruction and that quarter of a mile is where drivers fulfill their need for real speed – I swear they get up to highway speeds for that brief time (or maybe it just seems that fast because the car is shuddering and feels on the verge of falling apart). My host dad is no exception and even takes the pot holes too fast. So I understand my host mom's objections: why get a new car? He doesn't drive far and the car, while a piece of crap, does the job. On the other hand, I understand his side too: The car isn't going to last much longer. Every now and then it won't start. When this happens, we have to push it to the end of the driveway and then push it as fast as we can back down the driveway and hope that by doing so the engine will start. If it doesn't, we push until it does. I get a kick each time I watch my host mom in her long dress and head scarf bearing down on the car. Hilarious.
I continue to be amazed at the lack of general geographical knowledge people display. When asked where I went on vacation I'm usually met with quizzical looks when I reply, "Thailand." I don't even mention Cambodia. People are further surprised when I tell them that it's hot there now and that it never gets cold. My counterpart was convinced that Thailand was actually China until I got a map and showed her that they are in fact different countries. But does it really matter that Turkmen don't know the capital of Djibouti? And does it matter that I do? Only in quiz games…
The shoe of cultural disbelief was on the other foot this week when I walked into my host sister's room wearing my workout outfit – running shorts and tank top. Bagul was talking to my host mom, and while I know Bagul wouldn't bat an eye at my near nudity (by Turkmen standards), I was unsure of how my host mom would take it. I asked her if she minded and she was like, "I don't have a problem with it, but don't walk in front of Gapur like that. He's a man." And then she asked if I wore similar outfits on vacation and could scarcely believe my affirmative reply, though she'd already seen my pictures. "You wore shorts? In public? In front of men???" Why, yes I did. And it was remarkably normal.
Which brings me to the vacation: It was fun. It was adventure. It was escape, renewal, inspiration, sensory overload, Culture and delicious food. I apologize that all I can offer are platitudes, but I'm still awe struck by what an amazing trip it was. Here are some of the hightlights:
- Clogging the toilet of our hotel room in Ko Samui and clandestinely borrowing the hotel's plunger and getting it past hotel staff in order to plunge the toilet ourselves because I was too embarrassed to tell them we'd clogged it. I maintain that if they want people to throw away their toilet paper, they should be up front about it rather than suggestively putting a trash can next to the toilet.
- Taking a Thai cooking class.
- The government bus ride to Ko Samui on which we were the only Westerners and during which we were treated to a free lunch wherein I was instructed in the proper method of eating (use your fork to push food onto the spoon, eat with the spoon). Also wherein I'm pretty sure we ate snail because whatever it was, it tasted exactly the way you'd expect snail to.
- Eating grasshoppers.
- Angkor Wat. Angkor Wat. Angkor Wat. Absolutely magnificent.
- Undergoing a traditional Cambodian treatment for illness which involved being rubbed repeatedly with a metal disc such that our skin bruised and we were left with tiger stripes all over our backs. It was hardcore.
- Enduring a harrowing car ride with friends from the hostel en route to a floating village where we were the first Westerners some of the residents had ever seen.
- Seeing Avatar in IMAX 3D in Bangkok. Holy cow.
Thailand was fantastic, but, oh, Cambodia. The quiet magic of Angkor Wat, the solemnity of the Killing Fields, the NGO on seemingly every block in Phnom Penh, the friends we made at our hostel, the first kiss I'd had in over a year – all of it made it hard to leave and convinced me that I had to go back as soon as I could.
Particularly the NGOs. What a wake-up call. Did you realize that other countries have active NGOs? That development work can happen unimpeded by government intrusion? There are oodles of volunteer opportunities in Cambodia! Volunteers are wanted! They don't have to jump through hoops for the Cambodian government! AND there's an expat community!! After living in Turkmenistan for a while I'd decided that maybe I didn't want to live abroad anymore. Being in Cambodia reminded me that Turkmenistan is unique. Turkmenistan is certainly interesting, but it's also kind of soul draining. Cambodia restored my spirit to overflowing.
You can imagine how difficult it was to leave that NGO paradise for a place where I can't motivate my teachers to help me write the grant for remodeling their classroom and getting decent grammar books. (It's supposed to be a group effort!) The confiscation of my American toothpaste at the Bangkok airport only made me angrier. (I forgot that other countries have carry-on restrictions. Oops.) Needless to say, I was in a funk for a few days after we got back. Little Miss. Happy-Go-Lucky had to eat the words of her last email – I was in the thrall of the dreaded and inevitable mid-service blues. It's true that most of the time I feel positive about the work I do, but there are certain realities about Turkmenistan that most of us choose to ignore lest we become too bitter to go on. And once you get sucked into that sticky pit of unhappy reality, it's hard to break free again.
However these things pass and after a few days of sleeping a lot and wistfully thinking of Cambodia, I resumed the spring in my step and the happy attitude of denial that gets me through. I'm feeling good again, although I'm still anxious about this grant – right now my students are my main motivation for getting it done but I still feel very Little Red Hen about the whole thing.
Well, it's a few days later and I've lost my train of thought… we're in Ashgabat now for our Mid-service Conference. It's fun being back together as a group again – we haven't all been together since the Fourth of July. I updated my computer for the first time in a year – woo-hoo! I tried uploading photos from my vacation but the connection is too slow for that right now…
Oh! And the hotel has BBC and I got to watch the State of the Union this morning! What a treat!
So yes, life in Turkmenistan has resumed its ebb and flow. I'm healthy – no TB, got my test result today – and happy and in disbelief that my time here is another month sooner to ending.
Lots of love,
Jess
P.S. Remember my friend Enejan? Well, she's about six months pregnant and if you do the math, it works out to her getting knocked up a month before she was married. Which explains a lot.
