The Banya

Having whined profusely about the winter in my last blog I would like tell you my favorite part of winter; the banya. The banya is a building where people bathe. Volunteers and I have also adapted this noun into a verb. For example; I banya-ed today. This is a much used word in my vocabulary.

If you recollect, in my last blog I mentioned that I had to bundle up just to go to the bathroom so bathing isn’t really an option in my apartment. But one still has to bathe so I go to banya once a week. There are two grades of banya; public and private.

The public banyas cost about $1 for an hour. The process is a simple one, what you do is you gather up all your supplies (i.e. shampoo, soap, razors, flip flops, ect.,) go to the banya, change and then go into a giant room where you grab a bucket, wait in line with other naked women to fill your bucket up and then you find a spot along the wall and start bucket bathing. The first time at the banya was intimidating to say the least, but I have come to love those steamy rooms! I usually go with other volunteers and we make a day of banya-ing and a girls day out. Its better than a day at a spa!

Then there are the private banyas, these can range in price any where between $2 and $20. The nicest banya I have ever been in was with my NGO. This place was amazing! The first room you enter is the place where you change, I remember meeting my NGO there for the first time and thinking “well I’ll probably never do this with my in co-workers in the states!” The changing rooms led into two rooms, one a dining room where there was fried rice, chicken and vodka waiting to be eaten, and the second room the shower room where my entire NGO was standing completely naked. On my first banya with my NGO, I remember meeting this scene with hesitation but I quickly realized that I really didn’t have any other choice but to drop my towel and join the party!

Once I walked into the bathing room, I saw there was a forth room which was like a sauna. One thing that I hadn’t mentioned was by the time I arrived at the banya my co-workers had already been there for about 4 hours. They had made a whole afternoon of it, I’ve never been able to last more than an hour in a banya! After I got over my initial shock and started to relax, I got all uncomfortable again because my director offered to scub the dead skin off my back with her loofa… there is nothing that can prepare somebody for that!

After that point, the evening became a whole lot easier and I even managed to have fun. That night I was dropped off at home with a tummy full of fried rice, very clean and a different view of my NGO.

Its cold over here!

Despite the seemingly warm weather during the end of January and beginning of February, Jack Frost has returned to Kyrgyzstan and for the last two weeks we have had regular snow storms and lots of cold weather. The freshly fallen snow was beautiful but with every snowflake that fell all I was reminded of the frozen hell that was to follow.

Unlike in America, buildings here are not heated and streets are not cleared of snow and ice. This makes leaving my warm bed very, very hard. The only source of heat I have in my apartment is an electric heater which keeps my bedroom warm but leaves the rest of my apartment so cold that I have to bundle up just to go to the bathroom. I can even see my breath while I cook! The other day I woke up and went into the kitchen to make coffee and when I went to look out the window I couldn’t see anything because my window was covered in a sheet of ice…on this inside!

In spite of these discomforts, I am one of the luckier volunteers in Kyrgyzstan for two reasons; first is that I live in Jalal Abad which is the warmest place in Kyrgyzstan. We don’t see our first snow till December and spring sets in during the beginning of March. People who live in Naryn, the most mountainous and coldest part of the country, start seeing snow in October and don’t see spring till late April.

The second reason that I consider my situation significantly better than most people is that my office is heated. Many volunteers still have not returned to work since the winter break because their schools or offices are so cold that their sites have been closed till it starts warming up. I went by my site mate’s office the other day and the entire time I was there I wore my jacket and could see my breath. Props to him, if it were me I don’t know if I could find the motivation to go to work under those conditions.

Even with these luxuries I will still complain! For me, the worst part of winter is after the snow when everything turns to ice. The sidewalks become runways of death and the bazaar is a frozen hell! In addition to the fact that about the only thing you can find in the bazaar is carrots, cabbage and onion, shopping in the bazaar is awful because you still have all the pushing and hassling of the bazaar but its on ice. Knock on wood I haven’t fallen this year, but last year I fell and walked out of the bazaar with a cold, wet butt and mad as hell!

Right now, everyone is cranky because of the weather but everyday I remind myself that we are a little bit closer to my favorite season in Kyrgyzstan; spring.

P.S. As of today I have exactly six months till I C.O.S. (Close of Service) and leave Kyrgyzstan.

Transit Trip through Turkey *Pics added*

Istanbul is a very common transit station for flights coming from the West to Central Asia, the first time I traveled to Kyrgyzstan I waited impatiently at the airport for 9 hours between flights. This last time I took advantage of my layover by extending it by 4 and half days so I could see Istanbul’s notorious sites, get my fill of seafood and temperate weather before I returned to Kyrgyzstan for my last 8 months of service.

Prior to this trip, September had brought a change of events that allowed my dad to accompany me during my stay in Istanbul. Initially I was excited to experience Istanbul with him but it wasn’t until the plane left American tarmac that I realized just how much I needed him next to me. I hadn’t been ready to leave my family or friends to return to Kyrgyzstan and having him there for the long flight back and those few days before I returned to Kyrgyzstan made the journey significantly less painful.

Upon arriving in Istanbul, the first thing we did was drop our luggage off and have lunch. While walking through Old Town looking for a place to eat I distinctly heard someone scream “Martha!” When I turned around a saw three Peace Corps Volunteers who were also on their way back to Kyrgyzstan and had taken advantage of their 9 hour layover and gone into the city for a bite to eat and a quick tour of the Blue Mosque. Upon seeing them there were a flurry of words about America, Kyrgyzstan, New Years, Christmas, and the ending of service. Eventually I excused myself and Dad and I continued our search for food. Not long after we found a small café on one of the main streets and had freshly squeezed orange and pomegranate juice, Turkish coffee and crepes.

That first day all we saw was the grand bazaar. We had not even walked through the entrance gates before we were caught completely off guard and dragged into a carpet shop where we were served hot apple tea and the shop owner shared the history of carpet making in Turkey and showed us carpet after carpet. Let me tell you, if I had the money he could have sold me ten carpets within the first 8 minutes! They were beautiful, but as I am a Peace Corps volunteer and my dad is not in the market for a carpet, he dragged me out of there before the shop owner could show us the other half of his stock.

Once we were in the bazaar we were approached by carpet salesman after carpet salesman. Each one had a different phrase to catch our attention, it varied from; “Let me help you spend your money,” to “You walk like you want to buy a carpet.” It was amazing; they all spoke excellent English, had at least one relative and one friend somewhere in America and they all had a carpet specifically for you! Between beating down salesmen and fighting our jetlag, the two of us lasted all of two hours in the bazaar before we retired back to the hotel.

The next day, much refreshed from a good night sleep, we started our day with a lovely cappuccino and headed to Hagia Sophia. The entire time I was guided by my dad who read aloud from our guide book, Istanbul by Rick Steves. I highly recommend his travel series as it is very thorough and filled with fun facts like Paris’ Notre Dame could fit inside of the Hagia Sophia and the statue of liberty could do jumping jacks within the walls of the Hagia Sophia….graphically described, Rick. We filled the rest of our day with the underground cisterns, the Blue Mosque and a dinner at a lovely little seafood restaurant which we only discovered by getting lost while in search of the Spice Market.

The next day we continued our newly developed routine of waking up a late, enjoying a leisurely cappuccino (or two) and eventually site seeing. The first item on our agenda was the Topkapi Palace. In addition to the beautiful architecture and well manicured courtyards there was a huge collection of precious jewels, emperor’s clothing and ancient artifacts including the Islamic prophet, Muhammad’s footprint, a couple of his beard hairs and the hand and forearm of St. Peter in a gold cast. While looking at these artifacts there was a imam (Islamic priest) singing excerpts from the Qur’an giving the gallery a very eerie atmosphere. As I walked amongst the collection I continuously peered around corners looking for Indiana Jones!

That day, two of my best friends in Peace Corps, Fritz and Ginger, were meeting their children in Istanbul for a family vacation. When we realized that they would be in Turkey the same time my dad and I would be we decided to spend the day together. So the following day, my dad and I trekked over to their hotel and I had an opportunity to meet their children who i had heard so much about and my dad had the opportunity to meet them. After breakfast we took a cruise along the Bosporus River all the way to the Black Sea. The cruise took all day so after we got off the boat, I had to go back to the hotel to pack for my return to Kyrgyzstan.

Saying goodbye to my dad was really hard but once I got to the airport I had calmed down and bumped into another Peace Corps volunteer going back to Kyrgyzstan on the same flight. Having that time in Istanbul with my dad made that last flight into Kyrgyzstan infinitely easier, now I'm hoping on my way back to the states, I can meet my mother there and see the rest of Turkey!