My English Summer Camp

Last week was the long planned summer camp that I had been stressed out about for the past month. It wasn’t so much the work that had to be put into the camp that was stressing me out, but it was the possibility that the director or anyone else could suddenly tell me I couldn’t have it and that would be the end of it. I had been promising my students that I would try my best to have this camp, and I know that they were rooting for me to get permission. I think that their undying support did help me gain permission in the first place. All the way back in the end of May I advertised for the camp at my school and had any interested students come take a test. They all thought that they had to get a certain score to get into the camp, but little did they know that the test was merely a tool for me to see how many students I should expect. Because the last volunteer at my site four years ago ran into problems from the director when she applied for a grant to cover the cost of a summer camp, I decided to avoid money all together and used some supplies sent to me by family friends and then got creative with everything else.

The camp was six days long and split into two groups of three days each. For the first three days we had 4th-6th graders and for the second part we had 7th-10th graders. I had three Turkmen teachers assisting me and another PCV from the neighboring etrap came to help, too. We had more than enough help, but the younger kids still exhausted us by the end! Each day of camp started with “Morning Assembly” that consisted of trying to wrangle all the students and then sing a few songs. I taught them “Boom Chicka Boom” and once they had learned it, we sang it different ways. I think they found my sobbing version of “Boom Chicka Boom” with my flamboyant fake crying and wailing the most hilarious. They don’t often see adults acting as silly as that, but putting myself on the extreme end of things allowed them to act goofy as well. Following the songs, we did group games and team activities. The girls turned out to be extremely skilled at carrying a ball on a spoon. My theory is that they have carried so many hot bowls of soup in their lives, that they know how to keep their hands steady while walking. They struggled to work together on the 3-legged race and got extremely competitive at the relay races. On the last day we filled up water balloons and did a balloon toss outside. Several students got wet eventually, but the balloons weren’t breaking very easily. One girl got completely soaked by a balloon and she was a good sport about it and just laughed at herself. With the older kids we had pairs of students make shapes with their bodies while having their eyes closed. The older students displayed excellent teamwork and communicated very well even when I had them blindfolded or not allowed to speak. I was impressed by how well they worked together even when given the difficult tasks that I had set (like the trust fall or leading your partner blindfolded through a course). Overall I think that we did lots of games with the students that they had never done before, using objects that they all have around the house. I was happy that I could do something new and creative with the students that challenged them to step outside their comfort zone and try something different.

After the games we split into groups and did different activities with the smaller groups. Despite the extreme weather, the first day we had a dance session. To see a group of Turkmen teenagers doing the Chattahoochee like they are in small-town Kentucky was incredible! Turkmen love to dance and although some of the younger kids had a problem keeping rhythm they were tapping, shuffling, turning and Macarena hand jiving away no matter if they were way off beat. In addition to the dance, one of the Turkmen teachers taught them origami and they made flapping birds and little dogs. The second day of camp was Christmas themed and we watched Mr.Bean’s Christmas with the younger kids and Elf with the older kids, made Christmas boxes out of origami and I taught a Christmas English lesson. The camp was conducted all in English and this lesson was the only official lesson, but of course it was fun. In addition to vocabulary and a reading activity, I taught them Jingle Bells and we played “pin the star on the Christmas tree.” For the third day we had a Halloween theme. The younger students made scary Halloween masks and went trick-o-treating through the classrooms. Definitely the highlight of the last day was the puppet show. With the first group I gave them printed dialogues with cats, bats, witches, ghosts and monsters. They made a puppet according to their dialogue, practices with their partner and performed behind a makeshift puppet stage for the class. With the older students I gave them freedom to write a dialogue themselves about anything they wanted. We had a Frankenstein monster and his love interest, Indians, rabbits, witches and one character called “Bad Boy.” Some of my more advanced students came up with witty and entertaining puppet shows that had us all laughing and enthusiastically applauding at the end. Because of the low English ability of the younger students, I was more limited with what I could do, but the older kids impressed me with their creativity and ease performing in front of their peers. The camp ended on a high-note after the puppet show as we tried to squish ourselves together to get one last memory, a group photo.

At the end of the camp I talked on the phone to my Turkmen friend with whom I went to college. During her childhood she attended PCV camps and looks back on them as some of her fondest memories. As I expressed that I wish that I could so something more for these kids, she reminded me that my little camp could be the most exciting thing that they do all summer, or that the “camper of the day” certificates could be their biggest achievement. Sometimes I forget to put my work here into perspective and that even the small projects I organize and the small changes I see in my kids are little victories I must not overlook.

Can Peace Corps Volunteers go on rescue missions?

When I get a chance to look at the news headlines each week I usually see a story about the war in Afghanistan. Since I arrived in Turkmenistan I have been scanning over these headlines, yet not often clicking on them to read the full story. Frequently stories of success are tainted by the overwhelming majority of stories about death and bombings. Sadly, these stories about soldiers and combatants who have perished during the war are so common that they have become trite. I do want to stay informed about what is happening in Afghanistan, and recently I read the story about American troops pulling out of towns and cities and I have been keeping up to date on the situation in Basra after the “changing of the knights.” Although Turkmenistan and Afghanistan border, one may live in Turkmenistan without even knowing that there is a war to the south. Life here seems so far from the turmoil across the border; the only evidence of the war is the refugee camp in southern Mary Welayat filled with mostly Afghan refugees. When my parents called me last week and told me that a guy who I have known since I was little had been taken hostage by the Taliban, I was shocked. This news made the headline I later saw on Al Jazeera (my English language news channel) of personal concern, and I would have probably barely noticed it otherwise.

All of a sudden, I felt so far away from home. And all of a sudden I realized that each soldier mentioned in those headlines means the world to their family and friends back at home. Here I am so close to Afghanistan and I thought about what my parents would do if they got news that I was in danger over here. I think about my safety constantly, and so does Peace Corps. Because of the government’s control, this country is extremely safe and despite my previous concern about the close proximity to Afghanistan, I have never felt in danger here. My heart goes out to Bowe and all of his family and friends back in Idaho. We all think about our family and friends back in America so often and find comfort in the memories and photos that we bring along with us. It is difficult enough being so far away from all of your loved ones, and I can not even imagine how much courage it takes to make it through the day in Bowe’s situation.

The second goal of the Peace Corps is to teach host-country nationals about American culture and traditions. The third goal is to educate Americans about the country where you are doing/did your service. After my primary work as a teacher, my job is to build an understanding between cultures. With so much resentment, anger and frustration across the border, Turkmenistan is next door to a country where America is viewed more as an invader than as an ally. I want to be a part of the process to build awareness about cultural differences and to educate about tolerance and appreciation of foreign cultures. I am not talking only about teaching Turkmen about America, but I believe that Americans also have a lot to learn about the world at large.

Did you know exactly where Turkmenistan was before you saw the little map on my blog?

Do you know that there are an estimated 2 million ethnic Turkmen living in Afghanistan?

Because I am cut off from most news sources here, I have been religiously reading any magazine (Economist and National Geographic have been my favorites) that I can get my hands on. Because of my lack of news, I am making a huge effort to try to stay informed, and the result has been me staying more informed that I often was in the U.S. I never thought that this would be the case. It is not easy to stay up to date, but with some effort (and everything takes a bit more effort here) it is entirely possible and necessary. I may live in an isolated country, but I do not want to feel isolated myself. I have spent this past week thinking a lot about my family and about the people I care the most about. I will be honest and say that it was not the easiest week for me, and it was probably the most homesick that I have been so far. Yet even when I miss all my loved ones so much, I know that I don’t really want to leave. I am so lucky to have so many people who are supporting me and encouraging me through all the hard times. In less than one week my feet will be on British soil and I will be gorging myself with avocados and digestive cookies, freezing my butt off in the 26-degree weather and catching up on the last 10 months with some good mother-daughter time.

Recently I have become addicted to watching Top Chef and I have almost blown through a whole season in a week. I basically sit in front of my computer and squeal about all the good food that I can’t have. The losing dish on each episode looks great to me. I have already started my list of “foods I must eat in England” and I want to write to Top Chef and recommend they do a Peace Corps volunteer quickfire challenge where the contestants have the rudimentary cooking facilities, supplies and equipment of a PCV. Let’s see just how good they are when they have cotton seed oil, rice, moldy carrots, onion, one pan, one gas burner that barely works and a knife that barely cuts garlic (those are the only ingredients my first host-family had available at one point last winter)!

Watching The News With My Host Family

On Wednesday I spent about 15 minutes scrolling through the one thousand plus television channels that my new host family has. Each Turkmen house, no matter how small, is towered over by a large satellite that picks up everything from Russian to Chinese to Arabic channels. At my former host family I was never able to have the television to myself, and very rarely watched TV at all. When my new host brother handed me the remote because he had to go out and kill a chicken for dinner, I relished in opportunity to look for news channels broadcast in English. Eight hundred channels later, I found Aljazeera in English and plopped myself on the floor in front of the television. The big story on the news was the unrest in Urumqi in western China. I was previously aware of the tension between the Han Chinese and the Muslim minority in the region, the Uighur [weegher]. Interestingly enough, this is something I didn’t know until I got to Turkmenistan, the Uighur speak a language very similar to Uzbek (See Uighur women in first photo and an Uzbek woman in the second photo). The region where the Uighurs live used to be in Turkestan and they speak a Turkic language. One of my friends here just went on vacation to China and she searched for a Uighur restaurant where she could show off her Turkmen language skills. She tracked down a restaurant, ordered entirely in Turkmen and ate a meal that is standard in Lebap—palow, yoghurt and naan. On Monday I had just talked with her about the Uighurs and we weren’t aware of what was going on in XinJiang. As I was watching this story on Aljazeera, my host family came in with lunch and we kept the television on as we ate. Although there were no sound bites of the Uighurs speaking, my host family drew the conclusion that they were Uzbek because of their clothing. My host family is educated and pretty aware of world events, but the resemblance was so uncanny that I understood their confusion. The materials, dress styles and hats are almost identical to those in Uzbekistan. The women on the television were wearing traditional knee length shirts, loose pants and square hats, similar to those worn by many women in my town. It took me several minutes to explain to my host family that these people they were seeing on the television were Chinese and not Turkmen or Uzbek. I don’t know if they actually ended up believing me, but I told them the story of my friend in China and my host mom’s response was, “mmm…maybe,” still pondering whether of not I was trying to trick her. “No, really, she spoke to them all in Turkmen and they understood,” I declared. Again, “mmm…maybe” was the response I got. I understood their incredulity because even for me it was unreal to see shots of demonstrations in what looked like my town on the international news. It reminded me of how recently Central Asia was full of nomadic tribes and how cultures and languages moved fluidly across non-existent borders. Now with immigration laws, and tight border control, Central Asian people are not able to wander like they did less than 100 years ago. Forced to settle in countries not necessarily split along already pre-established tribal borders, they have now taken up the identity of their country rather than as a more broader Turkic peoples who spread across former Turkestan.

"We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails."

-Peace Corps, 1992

In the past week I moved in with a new host family and went to Ashgabat for two days to attend the July 4th party. It seems like so much has happened in the last 7 days, that I almost feel like I have entered into a new period of my Peace Corps service. On July 1st I had been in Turkmenistan for 9 months. A friend of mine, a fellow PCV, sent me a text message that read, "If you had gotten pregnant on the day we arrived, you would be in labor right now—happy 9 months!" Thankfully this isn’t the case, but I have been here three-quarters of a year and I have indeed seen more babies born than I ever have in my entire life. I had previously decided to move host families and found a great family that lives close to school. My new host-mom, Maya is a gynecologist and my host dad, Genji works at a company in Turkmenabat. I have two younger host-brothers. Aziz is in the 8th grade and is rarely at the house, but out in the village where all of his cousins live. Azad is going to be a sophomore at a university in Ukraine and is home for the summer vacation. At my new house I have my own separate side of the house that consists of my room and a kitchen. I have my own entrance to my room and this gives me more privacy and more freedom to come and go as I please. Before I moved in, I discussed the food situation at my previous host-family and expressed my concern about the nutrition of my food. I had been cooking almost all of my meals myself at my previous host-family and I was spending too much of my money to try to compensate for the lack of nutritious food that they had available. Maya asked me specifically what I would like to eat and today she bought everything I mentioned and had placed it in my kitchen for me. We have an outside kitchen and an inside kitchen, and she has given me the inside kitchen until it gets too cold to cook outside. My host-mom lived in Cyprus for a year and she is so fascinating to talk to. We speak all in Russian together and last night we spent two hours together sharing photographs and talking about our pasts. I never spent that much time with my last host-family and I already feel more comfortable here than at my previous residence. It is common for PCVs to switch host-families and usually the families that the volunteers find themselves work out better than the Peace Corps selected families. Since I have been at my site for over six months, I have many connections and I was able to search for a family with certain characteristics that I had decided were important to me. Mostly I was looking for a family where I could have more privacy and where I felt more comfortable with the host-parents. Americans’ desire to spend much time alone is weird to most Turkmen because they are very communal people, but there are many times when I am so exhausted by the time that I come home that I just want to relax and feel like I came back to a place I feel comfortable. It was difficult explaining why I was leaving to my host-family and I know that they took it personally. I still hope that I see my host-sisters in my yoga club and I will see all of them in the cafeteria every day once school begins. I am sure that I will encounter challenges with my new host-family, but I am already much happier at my home and I know that this will positively effect my overall experience here.

It was a whirl-wind of a trip, but the majority of Turkmenistan PCVs went to Ashgabat for the July 4th US Embassy party. It was also our chance to say goodbye to our Programming and Training Officer who is leaving to work in the Peace Corps Romania program. She was one of the first people who greeted us at the airport when we arrived 9 months ago, and I am sad that I won’t be able to finish my service with her still here. She supported me greatly over the past months, especially in the beginning and I think that our new PTO has big shoes to fill. In addition to saying goodbye to our PTO, we said a really sad goodbye to four PCVs who are leaving this weekend to go home. It came as a shock that four are leaving at one time and we will miss them all greatly. Everyone deals with it differently, but I was extremely upset when I found out because I am especially close to one of them and Turkmenistan will never be as quirky and interesting without him (especially the dance moves at the Ak Altyn disco). Over the course of nine months we have had a total of seven T-17s leave. This most recent batch to leave was definitely the hardest because we have all grown so tight as a group. It shows how much we depend on each other and how much we have bonded as a group. I came here with 43 strangers and I was met by another group of 35 T-16s. Even if I have just met a new PCV, which did happen at the July 4th party, we fall into conversation like we have know each other for years. We are all so connected by this unique experience, that we will forever share a huge part of our lives together. As four of my friends depart Turkmenistan, it leaves me to think about my desire to be here and to analyze my experience so far. I have realized since being back from vacation that even on the most frustrating days, I can still say that I truly want to be here. I believe that everything happens for a reason and I am happy here in a way that sometimes I can’t explain. I found the quote at the beginning of my blog entry today in a teaching article I was reading and I know that the author was referring to changing our actions and the way that we do things to work with what we cannot control, but I also think that this quote can relate to emotions and the necessity to having a go with the flow attitude. My mom sent me a postcard that has a picture of roller skates and printed below, "just roll with it." She is right to say that this must be how I approach things in Turkmenistan. There are events, like losing 4 of my fellow PCVs, that I cannot change, but I must adjust my own sails and keep on going wherever the wind sends me.

The Summer Top 10

Despite the heat that comes with the summer, this season has brought about some unexpected surprises. I have been dreading the high temperatures of the summers, but I have started taking note of the best parts of the summer rather than focusing on the sweltering heat. Here is my "Top Ten" list for the best things about the Turkmen summer. Disclaimer: remember that not all of these things apply to Turkmenistan in general and that this list refers to mostly Lebap specific things. So, if you find yourself in Turkmenistan for any reason and you can’t find what I am talking about, don’t come complaining to me!

1.) Gazly Suw

I talked about this briefly in my last entry but I feel that gazly suw deserves more explanation as it tops my list. Suw means water and gazly is the adjective form of gaz, which means gas. So, literally this would translate as "gassy water" in English. It is more accurately called carbonated water but gassy makes it sound less bourgoise (and maybe less appetizing) considering that it costs less than 7 cents. Little gazly suw stands that were closed for the colder months have opened everywhere. You can have plain carbonated water or you can pick a syrup of your choice to flavor the water. My favorite is coconut and I usually ask for only a little syrup so that it is refreshing rather than overly sweet and dehydrating. The drawback to the gazly suw stands is that once you are done chugging the drink there, they put your cup on what looks like a little metal plate, press down and water squirts up in the middle to wash (and I am using this word lightly) the cup for the next customer. You can either think about all the sicknesses and diseases you could catch from this cup, or you can hit every gazly suw stand between you and the post office and hope the guy before you wasn’t too dirty.

2.) Kvas

This one comes in a close second to gazly suw. Kvas is a Russian drink that came here during the Soviet Union. It is not found in other Welayats, but in Lebap it is very popular and most gazly suw stands also offer kvas. Kvas is a drink made from fermented bread and some describe it as the Russian rootbeer. My favorite kvas lady is in the bazaar in Turkmenabat and sells a cup for 2,000 manat (14 cents). I am sure that she makes hers from scratch and doesn’t dilute it like some of the other vendors. Kvas is not for everyone and you either love it or totally hate it. You will have to try it yourself to decide.

3.) Soft-serve Ice Cream

I just realized that my top three picks are food related and it shows how my life in the summer revolves around getting yummy drinks and cold ice cream. The Turkmen ice cream in general is not the best quality and I only really like the Turkish ice cream bars, Magnum (if you haven’t noticed that already). In the center of my town there is a little gazly suw stand that sells soft-serve ice cream. When my friend Kelsey and I were in the new cafй having lunch, another customer had a large beer mug full of soft-serve ice cream and because it looked so much like a milkshake, we decided we wanted one. It turned out to be way more ice cream than we wanted; we both finished a beer mug full of soft-serve but couldn’t figure out why we had wanted it in the first place. Since then I have turned down the offers of pints of ice cream and stick with the mini cone. At 1,000 manat it is the same price as gazly suw and satisfies the sweet tooth as well.

4.) Watermelon (or any melon)

I don’t want everyone to think that all I do is loiter around the gazly suw stands waiting for my next cup or cone. No, I also enjoy the array of fruit that is now in the bazaars. The melons are in season right now and are definitely the most amazing fruit that Turkmenistan has to offer. Consuming a half of a watermelon for lunch is not unheard of and especially when it is cold, it is crisp, juicy and sweet. The Turkmen watermelons are the best that I have ever tasted. The only better thing about watermelons in America is that you can find seedless melons, but they don’t have the sweetness that you get here. When Kelsey was here to visit I cut up a half of watermelon for us to take outside to eat and when we both picked up a piece, the first thing we did was lurch our upper bodies forward in our seats so as to prepare for the stream of juice that would be dribbling down our faces. We did this at the exact same time and laughed because we both know you have to eat watermelon leaning over the ground in order not to ruin your clothes.

5.) The Beach

About a 15 minute walk outside of Turkmenabat there is a little piece of heaven that costs 1,000 manat to get into. On the banks of the Amu Derya river there is a public beach that is maintained, cleaned and the perfect place to spend a hot afternoon. The entrance fee actually goes into the maintenance of the beach and not into the guard’s pocket, and it shows. There is sand, cold water and enough space for a roudy group of volunteers.

6.) Long days

Because the daytime is so hot, the early mornings and late evenings are the only times when you feel like being active. Being a desert country, it does cool off at night and the hours close to sunrise and sunset are the only respite one can get from the sweltering sun. My schedule has changed so much from what it was during the winter. I get up early to go running but even then I desperately want to jump into a cold shower when I get home. I feel so lethargic during the afternoons that I usually take a nap. In the evenings I open my window and hope that some of the cool air will make it into my room. You have to take advantage of the long summer days because you can barely function during the hours when the sun is directly overhead.

7.) The 4^{th of July US Embassy Party}

Coming up next week is the big social event of the season! The US Embassy has invited us to attend the annual Independence Day party. For the occasion I had my tikinchi (dressmaker) make a special halter dress out of dark pink silk/cotton fabric that I bought at the bazaar. It is rumored that the theme this year is Hollywood and considering that they flew in Native American Indians to complete the theme last year, I can’t imagine to what extravagance they will go to this year. Although the invitation says "causal dress," we all know that this does not mean Peace Corps casual dress. I don’t think they want me to show up in my blue paisley print house koynek! This party can be compared to the Peace Corps prom where we can hobnob with all the Embassy staff with whom we usually are prohibited from fraternizing. Most of the volunteers are going into Ashgabat especially for the party and the T-17s have heard this is a must attend event no matter how many hours you have to spend on the train, or in a taxi or mini bus to get here (or for those of you rolling in manat, a 45 minute airplane ride).

8.) Short koyneks

This one might be specific to my site and more liberal communities in Lebap. During the summer women wear short versions of the winter koynek with short sleeves or no sleeves at all. I recently got a summer koynek in a bright blue and orange Indian print made. It hits about mid calf and has short cap sleeves. I am lucky that this revealing of a dress is common in my town because other volunteers are amazed that I can wear this in my community. I wear this koynek mostly in the house because it is comfortable and light. Some girls in my town wear spaghetti strap dresses and mini skirts but I wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing this in my community so I err on the conservative side to be safe. But when I go into Ashgabat it is a whole different set of rules and I wear exactly as I would wear in America.

9.) Ninja scarves and umbrellas

Sun block does not yet exist here in any mainstream form. I am sure you could find it in some foreign import cosmetics store, but the majority of people who are going to be outdoors for extended periods of time in the summer use clothing as their sun block. The women wrap their scarves around their heads so that there is only a slit for their eyes and they look peculiarly enough like ninjas dressed in paisley and floral prints. You can see groups of these ninja clad women going out to the fields in the morning carrying their tools and looking like they might be going into battle rather than to plow. In the city only the women who sweep the streets wear the ninja scarves and most women prefer a brightly colored umbrella to block the sun. I have adopted the second option and take my shiny silver umbrella wherever I go; I am both in style AND protecting my skin.

10.) Cold showers

In the winter I could only take a shower when the water was hot and now I only want to take a shower when the water is cold. My host-family still likes the banya nice and hot and steamy for a shower, and I nearly pass out if I wash my hands for 2 minutes when the banya is post-shower suffocating. I take at least a shower a day now, which is a huge leap from once or twice a week during the winter. If I have done housework or washed my laundry and am feeling especially hot and grimy, I will fill up buckets of ice-cold well water and dump them one after another over my head. The chill of the water makes me lose my breath but I know that within 5 minutes after freezing myself I will be hot again. It is 40 degrees on average now, if not higher at mid-day and I wonder how much hotter it is going to get! Maybe I don’t want to know.

From Turkmenistan to Taiwan

When my plane lifted off from Turkmenabat I looked down on the city and for the first time realized how truly tiny it is. It consists of two main roads that run parallel the entire length of the city, and where these streets end the village begins. From the air I could see exactly where the pavement stops and where the smaller, primarily dirt roads begin. Apart from the villages clustered around the perimeter of the city, the country becomes desolate and unforgiving. The ground is baked dry by the intense summer sun, sucking the color out of the soil and leaving barren dunes to shift with the wind. I soon grew tired of looking out the window as there was no change in scenery until we circled over the Kopetdag mountains outside of Ashgabat. The emptiness of the landscape reminded me of how much of this country is uninhabited. The middle of Turkmenistan consists entirely of desert and most of the 6 million inhabitants are clustered around water sources forming a line of towns and cities that curves along the borders with Iran, Afghanistan and Uzbekistan. If you were to trace your finger from Turkmenbasy on the Caspian Sea, along south-east to Ashgabat along the Iranian border, south to Mary along the Afghan border and then up to Turkmenabat and onto Dashoguz along the Uzkek border you would hit most of the inhabited area of Turkmenistan. My first plane ride in-country took a thrilling 45 minutes in a Boeing 737, just enough time to drink a cup of Sprite, eat the waffle cookies served and write a letter. I had treated myself to a 45 minute plane ride in place of the over-night train because I figured that I would pull out all the stops for my first trip out of country.


Although the individual days go by slowly, I feel like the first eight months of my Peace Corps service have gone by quickly. I was making plans for my trip back in April because everything takes twice as long to get done here and because there was no way I was going to miss that plane to Taiwan! It was nice going on a vacation to a semi-familiar city and meeting up with very familiar people so as to minimize the culture shock of leaving Turkmenistan. The first thing that struck me about Taipei was the amount of people out on the street and the amount of activity and bustle at 10 at night. Because of the 11pm curfew in Turkmenistan and because there are not that many people in general in Turkmenistan, the streets are fairly empty during the day and completely quiet at night. The speed and efficiency of life in Taipei shocked me. With the mix of modern technology and a competitive work ethic, Taipei runs like a machine—the streets are clean, the metro is extensive, there are businesses flourishing everywhere, and all of the newest technology is on display as people chat on cell phones and browse the internet at the Starbucks. It was all overwhelming for me, but I was so excited to be able to be swept away by the hustle and energy around me.


The first day I got my hair cut to a short bob and I felt like I had transformed from the Turkmen Annie into someone who was ready to do everything that I don’t have the opportunity to see, eat, drink and do in Turkmenistan. We visited a tea house high up in the mountains outside of Taipei and enjoyed tea, tea jelly, tea muffins, tea mochi and…chicken feet. Those were not tea flavored but tasty. We went to a Mexican restaurant and I consumed my beloved guacamole that I had been craving since I left America. We went out dancing one night and I was pleasantly surprised that I was more up to date on new music than I thought. I recognized Akon songs thanks to my students and sang along to a remix of Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face.” Everyday I made a point of consuming at least one large bubble tea. I have my favorite tea shops and ordering bubble tea is about the only full sentence I remember how to say in Chinese! After a month of suffering from severe stomach problems, my digestive system was happy to be eating clean, dairy-free food that was not swimming in oil. I love the tofu pudding and any kind of dumpling, noodle or rice cake. Basically, any meal not Turkmen was okay with me.


To get out of Taipei, we took a three-day trip out to the Penghu Islands in the Taiwan Strait. We stayed at a little place right on the bay in the city of Makung and explored the beaches and surrounding islands by bike. Because it was still low tourist season, the beaches were deserted and we had all of the white sand and turquoise water to ourselves. The current was not strong and we could just float out in the water for hours. It was heavenly! I was careful to apply lots of sun block because eight months of exposing little more than my wrists has left me quite pasty, and even I was shocked and appalled by the whiteness of my ankles when I saw them.


Ten days in Taiwan went by too quickly and I was back in Turkmenistan before I knew it. I was greeted in the Peace Corps office by a large group of volunteers who were in Ashgabat for the weekend and I immediately knew that the best thing about coming back was seeing all my friends again. Since being back I have made a big effort to get out and foster all my friendships in my community. I have done so much guesting in the past week and I feel assured that I have a place in my community. My summer teaching schedule is on the lighter side and I have plenty of time in the afternoons and evenings to go see friends, walk into the center to get soft-serve ice cream or, my new favorite, to down a cup of “gazly suw,” or carbonated water with flavoring of your choice. My favorite flavor is coconut and I just try to ignore the fact that they reuse the cups after a little rinsing. “Gazly suw” stands have popped up all over the place and costing 1,000 manat (7 cents) it is something I can afford on an almost limitless basis!

Jennet's Nieces

Although Jennet is not my official counterpart, she has become my closest colleague and friend here. Her family in turn has become my second family and her mother especially has taken the role as my guardian in my community. Last week Jennet’s house was as noisy and child filled as a kindergarten. Her brother from Dashoguz and her sister were visiting and the child count maxed at 9 or 10 depending on if you counted the neighbor’s kids too. Her nieces call me ‘opa’ which means aunt in Uzbek and kiss me on the cheek twice when I come to visit. Working on her Fulbright application at her house was pointless but one day I stopped by on my way home from work to run over one of the drafts with her and was ambushed by her nieces while she was making tea in the kitchen. They poked and proded at my computer and somehow hit the keyboard so that it opened up my Photo Booth application and my built in webcam activated. Their little faces popped up on my screen and they squealed at their reflections, pushing each other around trying to dominate the entire image. I took this video of three nieces, Rayhan, Aynura and Yulduz, as they ogled over the novelty of being on camera. I think that this video is adorable; I hope you think so too.