Kazakhstan in Pictures, Part I

In the American psyche, Central Asia is a mental black hole. It is such an unknown area that most people don't know at thing about its nations, peoples, or geography. At least we can superimpose a vision of a jungle on obscure African countries, whether or not that image is accurate. For Central Asia, we lack even such a generic template to kick-start our imagination.

Kazakhstan is, of course, dominated by the sub-Siberian steppe. However, it is the 9th largest country in the world; fortunately, there are a few other geographic features scattered around to distract from the endless expanse of the steppe. Much of Kazakhstan's topographic diversity is located in the southeast corner of the country where a giant wall of mountains separates the country from Kyrgyzstan and China. Fortunately, this is Almaty's region, so I was able to enjoy the mountains for a few months during before I moved to a drier, more sparsely-populated version of Kansas.

(Issyk from above)

(At the Talgar Nature Reserve....dinner springs out of the bushes??)

(The view from above Lake Issyk, the source of one of many small rivers that flow down from the Tian Shan to feed Lake Balkhash)

(The results of the most-anticipated event of PST. Zhezkazgan is a long way from just about everybody)

(Almaty. Perhaps there is a small dose of irony in Kazakhstan)

(Russian Orthodox cathedral in Panfilov Park, Almaty. Notable for being built without any nails)

(My daily route to training in Issyk. Despite the summer heat, the snow never quite disappeared from the mountains)

(Almaty's "Silk Road" pedestrian street)

(On the road to Charyn Canyon. The southeast corner of Kazakhstan is the most primal place I have ever seen. No people and few living things of any sort other than hardy grass. Just gritty land, snow-capped mountains, and sky)

(The comparisons to the Grand Canyon are silly, but the Charyn Canyon is nonetheless an impressive sight)

(I guess the river ran dry somewhere down the line)

(Despite a raw fall morning, the day turned into a beautiful one. Those mountains in the background really aren't that far from China's westernmost frontier)

Myths

Every culture has its collection of folklore and old wives' tale and Kazakhstan is far from an exception. Some of the ancient wisdom that locals have tried to pass down to me has been predictable. Other tidbits have been downright strange. Still more have simply been horrifying. Sadly, I have not been able to make even a modest breakthrough in any of my many attempts to refute these tales. Intellectual curiosity is not Kazakhstan's forte.

* I discovered one of the more innocuous superstitions when I had the gall to sit at the corner of the dinner table. Apparently, my chances of getting married are now hanging in the balance. For now, that is probably a good thing, so if the Kazakhs know something that I don't, that is fine by me.

* There is a depressingly large percentage of the population who think that vodka has not one, but several medicinal uses. While I personally have avoided this misguided fate, several other volunteers have been exhorted to take a shot of vodka to cure whatever ailed them. I have also heard stories of a few doctors who routinely inject vodka intravenously as a remedy, which I sincerely hope is not actually true. Perhaps the best vodka-based panacea was the warm-vodka neckwrap that one volunteer was encouraged to wear during Pre-Service Training when she had a cough. It seemed more like an ironic advertising campaign for Absolut than reality.

* Germ theory has not made it to Kazakhstan. During the winter, you will often hear people worry about the health ramifications of an open window despite the extreme temperatures to which they heat their buildings. Many people in Zhezkazgan also have an unshakable belief that snow and/or frost "kills viruses". Not the cold, but specifically the snow or frost. In my time here, nobody has put two and two together and realized that these pet theories flatly contradict each other.

* The most stunning piece of "conventional wisdom" I have encountered in this country dates back to my time in Issyk. Another volunteer had developed a bit of a cough, which slowly worsened. His family generously suggested that they opt for the tried-and-true method of killing a dog and rubbing the fat on his chest. Of course, it wouldn't be acceptable to use one of Issyk's dozens of mangy stray dogs -- one must buy a clean one from a pet store. Dave declined the offer. It's the thought that counts!

* The Kazakh discomfort with the cold extends to drinks as well. I am an oddity for enjoying plain cold water -- although drinking buckets of cold water is a singularly American thing. When another volunteer recovered from a short illness, we went to a cafe and had a few beers. Upon his arrival back home, his family admonished him for drinking cold beers so soon after being sick, which is an entirely reasonable thing to do; except, of course, their argument was entirely based on the fact that it was a cold drink, not the fact that it was alcohol. Apparently, cold drinks give you sore throats and make you even thirstier. I don't know how I've survived the past 22 years.

What The Heck Do You Actually Do? Part II

The bulk of my time is devoted to Damu-Ulytau and the Association of Family Physicians, but the scope of my work extends a little bit beyond NGOs. Most volunteers in Kazakhstan become involved with work in English sooner rather than later. For EDU volunteers, English Club is an inevitable fate. OCAP volunteers have a little more leeway in the matter, but I was sucked in almost immediately. Today, I am involved with five clubs spread out over six days. I may soon discover that I am overcommitted, but for now I am largely enjoying it.

English Club is a funny thing. Clubs generally consist of a variety of games and activities that force kids to practice their English. While they are not meant to be lessons, our interactive style and the lack of the typical authoritarian atmosphere lends clubs a radical novelty that makes some meetings feel, at times, like a social event. In truth, this is a good thing. English Club can be fun practice for language, but it is a far cry from a real lesson. For me, that's not the point.

When we introduce new games, it can be baffling to watch how much some kids struggle with them. It has nothing to do with a language barrier and everything to do with a culture barrier. More specifically, it shines a lot of light on the the differences in our cultural attitudes. Recently at our big English Club, we played a modified game of Pictionary. After several fairly standard rounds, we started giving kids absurd things to draw like 'a dancing computer' or 'a texting horse'. At first, it was a formidable challenge to get them to simply use their imaginations, but after they got over the hump, everything went smoothly.

The culture in this country is marked by very strong social pressure to conform. A dinner party at one house is a dinner party at every house. When I am invited to come 'guesting', as they say, it is invariably very pleasant, but always extremely predictable. In an insular society, people simply are not exposed to many differing methods or viewpoints in many areas. Since the vast majority of Zhezkazgan's English students will not end up using the language, encouraging them to think outside the box seems like the most efficient use of English Club time. Like any country, Kazakhstan has many problems, but here people seem to have a high level of acceptance and apathy towards them. By instilling a creative spirit into everything, I hope that I can help a few people to truly consider things in another light. Since many English Club participants are studying to be English teachers, my most immediate hope is that they will remember the usefulness of interactive learning methods in their future careers. While I do not have any illusions about the impact that a few evening English clubs could have, you do have to start somewhere. After all, Peace Corps is no place for a pessimist.