<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039</id><updated>2009-12-20T02:35:36.904-08:00</updated><title type='text'>27 months in Kyrgyzstan</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default?orderby=updated'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;orderby=updated'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-5037163964040115714</id><published>2009-09-24T05:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T05:58:04.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Horseback ride *Pics added*</title><content type='html'>Kyrgyzstan is famous for its beautiful, untouched landscapes and up until this summer I had never taken advantage of my proximity to these huge mountains and had only enjoyed short hikes around the mountains. So when Fritz and Ginger, my two site mates, invited me to accompany them and three other volunteers on a four day horseback ride through Arslenbob I gladly accepted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the first Thursday of August we all drove up to a little mountain town called Arslenbob. I had been there once before the previous winter when it was covered in snow but arrived this summer to find the snow to be replaced by wild flowers. That night we all sat around over dinner with a couple bottles of wine laughing about how sore we were going to be and how delusional we were to think that we could make the trip comfortably. I know I was not the only one who went to bed that night anxious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning we were picked up at our guides house by 8 horses and 6 guides. It took about thirty minutes to arrange all the bags and supplies onto the horses before we could leave. That day we rode until 7 o’clock that night, only stopping for lunch and a few short stretching breaks. It had been a hard day. There had been terrifying cliffs, steep slopes and rocky trails so you can only imagine the distress we all felt when we realized there had been a miscommunication and the three tents we ordered for the group were not there. As we all stood there looking at each other unsure of what to do, a faint rumble in the not-so far-distance put a little more angst into our stares.  After much discussion and insistence, the guides convinced us to take their tents as they had brought tarps and mats to sleep on and insisted that they were used to sleeping under the open sky.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before dinner had even been made, it started to hail so all the Americans piled into one tent with a bottle of wine and the guides piled into the other. Thankfully for the entire group it turned out to be just a brief rain and we were able to continue on with dinner. It wasn’t 10 minutes after I ate before I crawled into my sleeping bag and fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning we woke up surrounded by skyscraping mountains behind the small valley which we had slept in. Compliments to the brief rain and hail the night before, the air was crystal clear and mountains that were 30 miles away were clear enough to look 5 miles away! Sitting over breakfast, I ate in silence just taking in the absolute beauty of the view. Immediately after breakfast we packed up our stuff and resumed our ride. By lunch we had made it to our final destination, the Holy Lake. The Holy Lake was a small alpine lake which was nestled amongst snow capped mountains. The water was pristine blue and crystal clear, looking at it all I could think of was a glass of icy blue raspberry cool-aid as that was the only memory I could liken to that color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rSkPbry6Guc/SrtsmERAXVI/AAAAAAAAAzM/Bje4OH8flEw/s1600-h/IMG_2099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rSkPbry6Guc/SrtsmERAXVI/AAAAAAAAAzM/Bje4OH8flEw/s320/IMG_2099.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385017180687457618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We set up camp and had lunch on one of the smaller lakes just a mile away from the main lake, and after we had all eaten we rode around the lake just admiring the beauty. On one side of the lake there were groups of people camping and enjoying the lake as we were. They welcomed us to their country and offered us the fattiest sections of their mutton and large bowls of kumis (fermented horse milk) demonstrating great hospitality. Only because of the tremendous kindness they showed us were we able to choke down the meat and chug the kumis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately the next morning Brock woke up sick because of the meal and spent the rest of the day walking behind the horses.  That same morning Fritz had us all worried as he woke up so dizzy that he was unable to stand for the first half hour of the morning. As the day progressed they both started feeling better and we decided to continue with the original schedule rather than take a short cut to get the two men home. That day we were all pretty eager to get Fritz to a lower altitude in hopes that his vertigo would ease but it didn’t. It was only after we returned to Jalal Abad and one MRI test later did we find out that Fritz’s dizziness was due to misguided crystals in his ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night before our last day on horseback I slept outside under the stars. It was outstanding. The next day I arrived back into town tired, dirty, sore and absolutely inspired by the trek.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-5037163964040115714?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/5037163964040115714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=5037163964040115714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/5037163964040115714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/5037163964040115714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/09/horseback-ride-pics-added.html' title='Horseback ride *Pics added*'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rSkPbry6Guc/SrtsmERAXVI/AAAAAAAAAzM/Bje4OH8flEw/s72-c/IMG_2099.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-1585610530335479261</id><published>2009-09-15T06:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T06:28:09.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Water Master</title><content type='html'>The Water Master is a jerk. He’s the guy that my NGO calls whenever there is a problem with the office pluming, so naturally he is the guy that they would call when I am having problems with the water in my apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I had moved into my apartment last April I have had a dripping faucet, compliment from my cheap landlord. Despite the complaints I left with my NGO they never found it necessary to call this water master, so it dripped all through April and May. Finally the week before I left the little, old, Russian lady below me hiked up the staircase to tell me that the pipes had rusted through and that the water was leaking into her bathroom.  At that point I was a day away from leaving for PST and decided that I would just turn the water off and deal with it when I got back.  Well after three weeks of being in the north I return to work and had to coax my NGO into calling the water master so he would fix the faucet and pipes. Despite my NGOs daily claims that he was coming the following day, he never came. For two weeks I waited patiently, constantly reminding my NGO about the problem. During this time I was forced to go to my downstairs neighbor with buckets to fill so I could flush my toilet and clean my dishes.  After those two weeks I left for a five day camp in the north only to return and find that still no progress had been made on the water problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that point my water had been turned off for over a month and I could see no reason that the water master had not come.  So I handled it in the most passive aggressive (and the most effective) method I knew of. I threatened to call the water master myself! The same method worked out months earlier when I told my NGO that I was going to start knocking on doors to find an apartment to live in! I guess they figured that it wasn’t that big of a deal till I threatened to take care of it myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following Saturday morning, the 4th of July, a woman from my office shows up at my door with a man in tow.  They spend about twenty minutes poking around my bathroom and then report to me that he will go to the bazaar, buy all the supplies he will need and return within the hour. Despite my hesitation, my coworker paid him the expenses and left, that had me worried immediately but I figured it wasn’t my money so it wasn’t my place to say how he should be paid.  That same day some volunteers were throwing a 4th of July party in a neighboring village, I was still hoping that I would have time to swing by the party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for the next three hours I got lost in a book, when I finally pulled myself to reality and realized just how long it had been I got on the phone with my office inquiring on the water master’s where-a-bouts. They seemed just as confused at his delayed return and called him immediately, when they called me back they told me he was on his way and would be there in 15 minutes.  Another hour passed. During that hour, I went from impatient to pissed to FURIOUS.  Initially I was annoyed because it became clear that I would miss the party but as I dwelled on his absence it the anger outgrew the offence. It was about follow through, being honest, basic respect, and a sense of courtesy. I was turning red as I redialed my office to, once again, ask for his where-a-bouts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was on the phone there was a knock on the door. I opened the door to him and his assistant and was greeted by a faint smell of vodka. I went into interrogation mode. I ask what had taken so long, where he had been, why he smelled like vodka and ended the conversation by instructing him to work fast and to stop wasting my time. Now on a regular day I go out of my way to be a nice, accommodating person but I had been pushed over the edge, I was RUDE to that jerk, water master.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again I settled down to read and once again I got lost in my book. After two hours had passed I started to notice the assistant packing up his bags so I got up and asked him if they had finished. Right then the water master stumbled back into my apartment, whatever doubt I had that they hadn’t been drunk before vanished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could feel my whole body filling with red, hot anger. I wanted to spit in his drunk face, I wanted to throw his bags out the window, I wanted to punch him- don't worry Mom, all I did was stand there and glare at him.  It took me a moment to snap out of the trance and ask him if they had finished. It was hard enough to understand his slurred Russian but it became impossible to understand him as he would unconsciously slip back into Kyrgyz. Through gritted teeth, I would remind him to speak in Russian but within half a sentence he would switch back into Kyrgyz. As I watched him stumble around my bathroom I reminded him for the third time that I don’t speak Kyrgyz but this time I lost it! I was screaming in Russian, cursing in English and shoving him out the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I slammed the door in his drunk face I looked around at my apartment to see piles of pluming that they neglected to bring down and rubble all over my floor, all I could do was cry at that point. I cried and cried and cried. Eventually my coworker swung back by the apartment to see what progress was made and found me red-faced and teary-eyed. As I explained to her why I was having a break down I realized that it had been a year to the day since I had last seen my mom, dad and sister. It had all been too much for one day. She promised to take care of everything the next day and that I just needed to rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following morning she came back with the water master- I could tell by his face I had scared the shit out of him by my little tantrum from the day before. My coworker sat with me while we waited for him to finish, naturally it took one more visit before I had water again.  Unfortunatly my toilet still runs, my water heater doesn't work and I have no shower but I have decided to live with the inconviences before I spend another day with the Water Master.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rSkPbry6Guc/Sq-Vx8SkS1I/AAAAAAAAAzE/DwWaGc30eB0/s1600-h/IMG_1858.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rSkPbry6Guc/Sq-Vx8SkS1I/AAAAAAAAAzE/DwWaGc30eB0/s320/IMG_1858.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381684764961164114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is all the rotting pipes from soviet times that they pulled out of my wall and left in my apartment for me to clean up. Its still sitting just outside my door!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-1585610530335479261?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/1585610530335479261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=1585610530335479261' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/1585610530335479261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/1585610530335479261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/09/water-master.html' title='The Water Master'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rSkPbry6Guc/Sq-Vx8SkS1I/AAAAAAAAAzE/DwWaGc30eB0/s72-c/IMG_1858.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-5022888276703261471</id><published>2009-09-14T04:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T04:17:30.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>K17 Pre-Service Training (PST)</title><content type='html'>PST lasted a total of eleven weeks which had been divided into three training groups, I worked the final three and a half weeks with three other volunteers from across the country. During our time there we were responsible for giving trainings, assisting their group with their practicum, general Q &amp;A, and wrapping up training so the new group could be sworn in as volunteers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike my work in Jalal Abad, my time was very structure during those three weeks. I started at 8 am Monday through Friday and finished at 5 pm. I had deadlines to be met and paper work to be filled out on a daily basis. By no means was this a bad thing, I really enjoyed the structure in my life! Another bonus was that everyone spoke English. I was amazed at how efficiently I was able to work when I understood and could be understood!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the weekends I had time to see friends from the Chui region who I rarely got to see during the year because of the distance between the north and the south. Its funny, when you look on the map Kyrgyzstan in no larger than the state of Virginia but because of the massive mountain ranges running through the country it takes approximately 20 hours to travel from one side of the country to the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These mountain ranges also hinder the sharing of the northern and southern Kyrgyz cultures so over time two very distinct lifestyles have developed. The three major differences I notice are the food, language and dress. All of these factors are very much influenced by the surrounding countries. The food, for example, in the south has a much heavier Uzbek influence which means more spices and flavorful food, plus due to the fact that we are on the edge of the Fergana valley, we have more access to the fresh fruits and vegetables that do not grow in the north. The language in the south is also heavily influenced by the Uzbeks and is spoken much slower, while the predominant language in the north is Russian. In fact many of the Kyrgyz speakers struggle in the Bishkek metropolitan because Kyrgyz is the second language to most families. Finally the dress, this was by far the most shocking difference for me.  In Jalal Abad I regularly see women in burkas, head covering and minimal amount of skin being shown. The men wear more traditional clothing and particularly in the summer you see men walking around with Kalpaks, a traditional hat of Kyrgyzstan. Upon arrival in Bishkek the first thing I noticed was women wearing tank tops, shorts and more western style clothing and the absence of traditional Kyrgyz clothing. I can only imagine the shock I will have the first time I go to an American bar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all the three weeks of training was good; I met a lot of cool K17s, I saw old friends, I learned more about the Peace Corps administration and the people in it, and I got lots of shopping done but I was ready to return to Jalal Abad!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-5022888276703261471?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/5022888276703261471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=5022888276703261471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/5022888276703261471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/5022888276703261471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/09/k17-pre-service-training-pst.html' title='K17 Pre-Service Training (PST)'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-4256461808801064167</id><published>2009-09-09T00:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T01:00:25.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting to PST</title><content type='html'>Last March a new group of Peace Corps volunteers came to Kyrgyzstan, like my group, they spent the first three months of their service studying the language, culture and programs. For their last few weeks of PST (Pre-Service Training) I was brought up to their training site as a trainer for the SOCD group (Sustainable Organization and Community Development.) My role was to share my experiences as a volunteer in Kyrgyzstan, answer their questions and present sessions on culture and business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing as I had never left Jalal Abad for longer than a week, my director thought it fit to invite me my co-workers over for dinner the night before I left and to send me off in a proper Kyrgyz manner.  The evening started out wonderfully, we sat outside on a topchan (an elevated platform with cushions and a small table where people eat) chatting about our families and work.  Eventually dinner time came around and as the food was placed on the table, the glasses were filled with vodka. Throughout the meal we went around toasting to one another, to life, to family, to health, to happiness, to Kyrgyzstan, to America and to the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was having a blast! That is until I went to the bathroom and my phone fell down the toilet.  Now this is no western style toilet where your phone just plops into a bowl of water, no this is an outhouse where your phone falls down a deep, dark hole and sinks into years worth of shit.  There was no way in hell I was getting that phone or SIM card back (although I have known more than one volunteer who has…) But this occurred late enough in the evening that I didn’t really care all that much and returned to the table unfazed to continue toasting with my co-workers. &lt;br /&gt;I wake up the next morning at home with a splitting headache, a revolting taste in my mouth and the horrifying realization that I had to buy a phone, pack for three weeks of training and get to the airport all within the next three hours.  That was a very painful morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for me at the airport was the new group of volunteers who had just spent a week visiting their new site, I did my best to hide my excruciating hang over, but several volunteers commented on the lack of color in my face.  As I recounted the events of the previous evening, I reminded them all that this was the perfect example of how Kyrgyz parties got out of hand very quickly. I hadn’t even gotten on the plane and I was already showing them the ropes!&lt;br /&gt;After check in, as we are waiting for the one and only flight out of Jalal Abad that week, an air traffic controller comes into the sitting area alerting all passengers that not only was the flight delayed but we were going to have to make a quick stop in Batkent (a restricted area where Americans are prohibited to go for safety reasons.) Seeing as I thought the Peace Corps security officer should know that we were going to the one prohibited place in Kyrgyzstan, I immediately started fumbling through my bags to find her phone number- which had been programmed into my phone that currently sat at the bottom of five feet of crap. I thought my head was going to explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once the security officer cleared the situation we all boarded the plane for Batkent/Bishkek.   At this point I am still in a very fragile state so when the turbulence began shaking the plane and the lady next to me started puking, it was really just a matter of seconds before I started puking as well. When we finally landed and got off the plane, I immediately noticed it was about 15 °F cooler in Bishkek that it had been in Jalal Abad, I was freezing in my sundress.  After almost 2 hours of riding in marshrutkas from the airport to the training village, I finally arrived in the apartment where I would be staying for the next few weeks. After a bowl of spaghetti it was just a matter of minutes before I called it a night and crawled into bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-4256461808801064167?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/4256461808801064167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=4256461808801064167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/4256461808801064167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/4256461808801064167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/09/getting-to-pst.html' title='Getting to PST'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-9127166572891107088</id><published>2009-09-09T00:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T00:58:16.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in Jalal Abad</title><content type='html'>After a long summer of working around Kyrgyzstan I am finally getting back into the grove of life in Jalal Abad. Coincidently, I am just in time for my one year anniversary as a Peace Corps volunteer! Naturally at this point in my service I have started to reflect on all the things I have accomplished, what I have learned and what I want to come out of the second half of my service. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In a nut shell, I have learned that things never happen on time, to always have a backup plan, to not count on electricity and to carry hand sanitizer and toilet paper in your purse at ALL times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In regards to my accomplishments at my NGO, I have found a nitch in the youth development area where I am working with local high school and university students. Although not the path I had anticipated, it has turned out beautifully as I have come to find the younger generation is comprised of the most optimistic, curious and inspiring people in the country. With my place at the NGO developed, this next year I will strive for larger trainings, bigger camps, at least one seminar and multiple learning activities for students of all ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the next couple of blog entries I will be catching up on all the activities of the summer.  Thank you for your patients as I have been absent for such a long period of time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-9127166572891107088?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/9127166572891107088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=9127166572891107088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/9127166572891107088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/9127166572891107088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/09/back-in-jalal-abad.html' title='Back in Jalal Abad'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-4106696048395380894</id><published>2009-04-14T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T06:25:39.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sacrifice</title><content type='html'>Currently I host three English clubs a week; Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. Last Monday the English club subject was the different holidays celebrated in Kyrgyzstan, this includes Christian holidays, Muslim holidays and non-religious holidays.  Over the last nine months I have come to discover that the Kyrgyz love to celebrate and they will beg, borrow and steal holidays from other cultures just to have a good time!  They even celebrated April fool’s day this month!!! Included in this hodgepodge of Kyrgyz holidays are some shamanistic celebrations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have been in Jalal Abad, I have witnessed many forms of a shamanistic lifestyle including fortune telling, superstitions and even sacrifices!  I’ve only seen a sacrifice once, and it just happened to be right outside my kitchen window! The day I witnessed the sacrifice was a quiet Sunday afternoon, I was cleaning up the kitchen after several volunteers had left and I happened to glance out the window. Right at that moment two men, who were standing right outside my window, slit the throat of a tied-up goat! Believe me that was the very last thing I was expecting to see! I had never seen an animal killed before, given that whenever my former host family was killing an animal I made a point of being on the opposite side of the city!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The killing of the animal and the cleaning its carcass was actually very fast! There were four people working on the one animal; two women and two men.  As soon as all the blood was drained into a large basin, the carcass was hung from its ankles and skinned.  The intestines and stomach were the first things removed.  They were handed over to the two women who immediately started rinsing out all the undigested and half digested food.  Typical, the women were left cleaning up the shit! ; )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, as the women were running water and cleaning out the guts, the two men were standing over the carcass, which is still hanging from a nearby tree, and cutting the flesh off of the animal. As they cut off a piece of meat they would throw it into a kazan, a huge pot, where they would cook the meat and make besh barmak- directly translated besh barmak means Five Fingers. This is a traditional Kyrgyz dish which consists of noodles and meat which you eat with your hands, thus its name.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That afternoon I stood at my kitchen window for over 20 minutes and just watched this family strip this animal until it was nothing but bare bones. It was so methodical, I just couldn’t pull my eyes away.  They must have thought I was a complete nut!!!  As soon as the process was done, I went along my way- not quite as merrily as I had been prior to the killing but none the less I went about my day.  For the rest of the evening I assumed that my neighbors had just wanted some fresh meat and so killed their own sheep but was corrected the next day by another neighbor who informed me that it was actually a sacrifice to god. That was fun to get across as sacrifice and ritual are not a part of my daily language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with the  chosen topic as Kyrgyz holidays this week, I tried to ask the students if there were any shamanistic holidays which they celebrated, all I got was blank looks.  I guess shamanism is slightly above their English ability, I know that it is several leagues beyond my Russian level!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-4106696048395380894?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/4106696048395380894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=4106696048395380894' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/4106696048395380894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/4106696048395380894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/04/sacrifice.html' title='The Sacrifice'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-2711827391235991973</id><published>2009-04-06T04:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T04:12:12.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been evicted</title><content type='html'>I used to assume only junkies, frat boys and the broke were evicted from their homes. But this week that stereotype was shattered when I became an evictee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Sunday evening I was walking up to my apartment building when my landlady called me over with concern in her voice. After inquiring how my family was, she began to tell me that the owners of my apartment were returning to Kyrgyzstan.  She explained to me that after almost three months in Russia they had been unable to find work because of this global crisis and were financially forced to come back to Jalal Abad. They would be arriving the next day and wanted their apartment back. At this last statement my jaw dropped. Finding a furnished apartment in Jalal Abad within the price range that Peace Corps had allocated was difficult and with the time crunch I didn’t know what I was going to do. Images of sleeping on my suit cases in other volunteer’s homes or me curled up on my office floor started running through my mind. My landlady must have seen the alarm in my face because she immediately started telling me that she has started asking her friends if they knew of any apartments and that all would be fine! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since there is no Craig’s List to go look up apartments online in Jalal Abad the only thing I could do was call the other city volunteers and my NGO to let them know that starting the next day I would need their help to find a new apartment. From Monday through Wednesday, I got in touch with everyone I knew, went to real estate agents- who were located in stalls in the bazaar- and prayed for just one more day before the family began banging on my door and kicked me out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday morning my landlady told me the family didn’t want to stay with the father’s family any longer and wanted to move in that day. At that moment, all the sympathy I had for the unemployed family disappeared. I told my landlady to tell them moving out wasn’t possible, I hadn’t started packing and I had nowhere to go; I needed one more day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked out of my apartment, I felt the week’s exhaustion hit me right in the face. I had finally found two apartments to look at and now I would be forced to take one of them.  The first apartment I saw was over my price range by 1000 som (that’s a lot of money for a volunteer) and the second apartment was in my range but the only furniture in it was an old sofa that reeked of mildew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening, as I was walking home to call my site mates and ask if I could sleep on their couch, I ran into my landlady once again.  She looked about as tired as I did, seeing as we had both been looking for apartments for three straight days. She told me she knew of one last apartment and we could look at it in 20 minutes.  Two hours later, she called me and told me we could finally see it. Conveniently, the apartment was just across the street, so the two of us walked over in our slippers to find a fully furnished apartment within my price range!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked back to the apartment relieve to have finally found an apartment and then said goodnight.   But right as I had sat down and taken my shoes off, my landlady started knocking on the door again.  Now she didn’t look so relieved, rather she looked quite mad!  She told me she would help me start packing because the family was coming that night. With both of us mad as hell, we took a shot of rum and started throwing things into suitcases.  She called a neighbor’s son to help me carry things across the street as she continued to pack up all my things.  Over the course of the move I taught my two helpers a commonly used English phrase; “This is bullshit!” Believe me, I gave them plenty of examples to incorporate it into conversation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until ten o’clock at night this poor boy and I lugged bags from one apartment to the other, dumped out the suitcases and went back to the apartment for another load.  The entire time I was moving, I kept going over in my head all the things I would say to this owner if I saw her. I wanted to ask her why she didn’t call me two weeks ago,  I wanted to tell her how inconsiderate she was, and as I prepared the last suitcase I saw her pull up in her SUV!  At that point I was so tired, all I could manage to say was that it had been a terrible week.  With that said, I said goodnight and went home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-2711827391235991973?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/2711827391235991973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=2711827391235991973' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/2711827391235991973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/2711827391235991973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/04/ive-been-evicted.html' title='I&apos;ve been evicted'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-7398315307102898655</id><published>2009-03-27T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T05:30:37.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to Volunteers</title><content type='html'>My Peace Corps service thus far has been an excellent one; I am working at an amazing NGO, I live in a city that fits me to a tee and I have a cute little apartment to go home to every night.  But for me, the element that has comforted me in the most difficult of times, has inspired me to work harder at my job and has taught me about life as a volunteer is the Peace Corps Volunteer community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, this Friday four of my fellow volunteers were asked to leave the country. Not only have these four people helped shape my experience in Kyrgyzstan but they were also excellent volunteers who contributed greatly to their sites and their community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each of them brought something special to this country but the only one that I was able to visit at site was Joe. Although I know Kelly, James and Alex are being missed by their communities, I got to see, first-hand, how large of a presence Joe had at his site. Just two weeks ago, when I finally made the journey up to Toktogul to see him, it was made obvious immediatly that he was adored in that town. While hosting a tour of his site for Ian and I, he was greeted by almost everyone we passed. When we arrived at his house and walked into his room, we were welcomed by a giant American flag,  posters of  JFK, Frank Sinatra, Obama and pictures of his family posted all over his wall. I remember think that a walk through Joe’s room was probably the best reflection of America one could find in Kyrgyzstan!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunaly, despite all the work that Joe and the other three volunteers did in their nine months of service, they were still asked to leave. So with their absence constantly in the back of my mind, I have had to keep reminding myself that as one door closes, another one opens. Hopefully for the four volunteers, once back at home, they will find their stride and land on their feet. And as for me and Kyrgyzstan, this week our K17 group is arriving. Who knows what they bring with them, but for now, all I know is that our volunteer community will be expanding greatly!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-7398315307102898655?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/7398315307102898655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=7398315307102898655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/7398315307102898655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/7398315307102898655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/03/ode-to-volunteers.html' title='Ode to Volunteers'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-8387424900532569848</id><published>2009-03-25T04:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T04:33:30.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nooruz</title><content type='html'>Last Saturday, the spring equinox, all of Central Asia celebrated Nooruz. English club students had talked about this holiday all year, families had been preparing for this day all month and while all this was taking place, I had been trying to figure out what the hell this day is about.  Every time I inquired, I received a different answer; some would say it is a Muslim holiday, others would tell me it is a Central Asian holiday and many didn’t even know what the holiday was about! &lt;br /&gt;Eventually I gave up on asking people and researched the holiday myself. From what I have read, Nooruz is an ancient holiday that dates back to Zoroastrian traditions and is celebrated all over Central Asia.  Over time it has been adopted into shamanistic practices and the Islamic religion to celebrate the coming of spring. During the Soviet period not only was the holiday discouraged but at one point it was officially banned. But now the Kyrgyz celebrate the holiday proudly with family and friends over pots of samolok at home or at games of Ulak tartysh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the evening of Nooruz I was in Osh with Ian. Tired from a day of walking around the city, we were hesitant when his former host family called us to join them for a Nooruz celebration at the last minute. But curiosity and love for his family dragged us off the couch and to his family’s house. As we walked through the gates we were greeted by a host of children and his family who led us to a huge pot of boiling goo called Samolok.  It is made up of five ingredients; wheat, flour, water, oil and rocks! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that’s right rocks! According to the legend, once upon time in the land of Kyrgyzstan a poor mother was desperate to feed her children a special dish for the holiday but all she had was water and stones. So that night she boiled the stones in water and the next morning she woke to a pot of sweet soup, Samolok.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then a few ingredients have been added to the recipe but the tradition has held and every year the rock soup is made. This year, Ian and I were invited to stir the samolok.  I really appreciated being included, plus as you stir you get to make a wish! Because the samolok is suppose to cook all night long and we were not able to spend the night we were given a spoonful that evening. It had a sweet but subtle taste to it, not something I could eat a whole bowl of but it was an enjoyable spoonful!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next year I’m hoping that I’ll have the opportunity to watch a game of Ulak tartysh, a competition played throughout Central Asia.  The game originated long ago when shepherds would be watching their herd on horseback and would defend their livestock from wolves.  Now instead of knocking out a wolf, a group of men will get together and attempt to throw a headless goat carcass into a goal. I can only hope that during my time in Kyrgyzstan I will have an opportunity to watch this game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-8387424900532569848?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/8387424900532569848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=8387424900532569848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/8387424900532569848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/8387424900532569848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/03/nooruz.html' title='Nooruz'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-7481672397392036275</id><published>2009-03-17T04:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T05:08:51.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Never Ending Journey *Pics added</title><content type='html'>So last Sunday and Monday, rather than celebrating Women’s Day, I was attempting to make it to Bishkek for the K16s ‘Project Design and Management’ Training.  All of the Jalal Abad volunteers and I decided that we would drive up to Bishkek since everyone has said the drive through the Tien Shan Mountains is so beautiful. Plus, we wanted to save a little extra money! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conference started on Tuesday, but Ian and I wanted to begin our trip a few days early so we could stop about half way to see Joe, our friend and fellow volunteer who lives in Toktogul. So early that morning we went to the bus station to catch a cab to Toktogul. This turned out to be a little bit more complicated than expected seeing as Toktogul is a small town about four hours away, not exactly the most traveled to spot.  Eventually we worked out a deal with a driver who said he would drive us halfway to Toktogul and then arrange for another taxi to take us the rest of the way. As promised, our driver lined up the taxi that would take us to Toktogul. Unfortunately it was an empty taxi and because we did not want to buy out the other two seats in the taxi, we had to wait for it to fill up with passengers who were also on their way to Toktogul. After waiting for over an hour without any luck of finding additional passengers, a huge tour bus stopped at the bus station and we were able to work out a deal with them.  It turned out that this was a lucky turn of events seeing as the bus was pretty empty so we got to stretch out and -the best part of all- we got to watch some Thai fighting movie dubbed in Russian on a small TV at the front of the bus!!! I really had no interest in the movie so I stared out the window the entire time snapping pictures of the amazing scenery. The drive was really beautiful, for a large portion of the trip we were driving along the Naryn River which is a brilliant blue and amongst some of the most intimidating mountains I have ever seen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though we ended up getting stuck at the half way point for about two hours, we managed to get to Toktogul by mid-afternoon.  Once in Toktogul, Joe gave us a tour of the town’s bazaar, park, the school he works at and the stadium.  It’s a beautiful town that is completely surrounded by mountains and is on the edge of the country’s largest reservoir which feeds a hydroelectric plant that produces a large amounts of energy for Central Asia.  That evening we had dinner with Joe’s host family where we learned from his host father that earlier in the day there had been a huge avalanche that was blocking the road to Bishkek. At that point there wasn’t anything we could do but hope it magically cleared up by morning.  It didn’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning Peace Corps instructed us to turn around and go back down to Osh where we could buy a plane ticket to Bishkek. Unfortunately we were not the only ones who were trying to get to Bishkek so by the time we were back in Jalal Abad all the tickets had been sold out until Thursday. We were all trapped in the south! But because we are all health wardens and had additional trainings on Friday, we were instructed to buy a plane ticket out of Osh and just get up there as soon as possible.  Later we found out that Joe’s counterpart, who was also attending the training, out witted us all by taking a taxi to the avalanche, climbing over and catching a cab from the other side!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With nothing to do up wait for our flight we took advantage of our time and wandered around Osh city for the day. The weather was absolutely amazing, flowers were starting to bloom and the city was as beautiful as ever. On Thursday we finally made it to Bishkek and were able to attend one of the four days of training.  By Sunday the avalanche had been cleared and I took a taxi back down to Jalal Abad. Unfortunately I slept most the way down and missed the remains of the avalanche; I was told it was pretty spectacular!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-7481672397392036275?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/7481672397392036275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=7481672397392036275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/7481672397392036275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/7481672397392036275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/03/never-ending-journey-pics-added.html' title='The Never Ending Journey *Pics added'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-5283669579941467883</id><published>2009-03-07T00:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T01:06:00.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Women's Day</title><content type='html'>Two weeks following Men’s Day is Women’s Day.  This holiday, much like Men’s day, has turned into a ‘hallmark holiday’ for Russia and its former Soviet Union. Originally founded to recognize the development of women’s rights and to encourage further achievement, Women’s day has turned into a national holiday where sons, husbands, brothers and boyfriends thank the women in their lives for all their hard work. Over decades of this flattery and gift giving, the holiday’s true meaning has been lost in the flurry of flowers and chocolate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between the two organizations that I have been working with, I have witnessed two very different viewpoints of this holiday; one being the progressive, feminist approach from my NGO in Jalal Abad and the other being the sweet, appreciative sentiments of our beauty and sweetness from the bank in Osh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This topsy-turvy week began when my NGO hosted their Women’s Day event.  This event was actually a dinner that took place about a week before the holiday in a restaurant in the center of the city which they had rented out. To create atmosphere; on one wall we created a photo gallery of active women in the community, on an adjacent wall we hung a giant poster stating “Женщины могут Всë,” (which directly translates to “Women can do all!”) and in the center we built a mini-theater where we were to present our event. To add to the excitement, my director invited several local government officials, community leaders and even the governor’s wife to watch this event.  We began the dinner by introducing why Women’s day was founded and why we shouldn’t forget the historical significance of this day amongst the gift giving and celebration.  From there starters were served and a video that portrayed the global progression of women’s rights and development of women’s right in Kyrgyzstan was shown.  After the movie, some students came up and gave presentations on the history and relevance of women’s rights in Kyrgyzstan and as the evening began to wind down some guests started standing up and giving speeches, including two diplomats, a representative of the President’s party and the governor’s wife.  The dinner went really well and after all the guests left and we had removed our decorations, we took the remaining party to the back of the restaurant where we shared a bottle of vodka and toasted to the success of the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a different city, at the end of the week, I celebrated Women’s Day over cakes, juice, and wine with the Microcredit Company.  That afternoon, with the day’s work done, all the men gathered in the main office, gave toasts to “the most beautiful women in Osh” and handed out gifts.  I received a pretty “yurt hat,” it’s called a yurt hat because it is a traditional piece of Kyrgyz headwear whose shape closely resembles that of a yurt. The full-time female employees of the office received a big gift basket with a set of towels, set of glasses and a juice pitcher.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;This day definatly reminded me that I am a woman who was raised in an American culture. I have certain perspectives and ideas and many of them do not correspond with life in Kyrgyzstan, but as a volunteer I am learning where the fine line of sharing my opinions and accepting life as it is in Kyrgyzstan.  Happy Women's Day to all, let us be thankful for all the progress towards human equality that we have made, and be aware of all the issues we still have to confront.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-5283669579941467883?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/5283669579941467883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=5283669579941467883' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/5283669579941467883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/5283669579941467883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/03/womens-day.html' title='Women&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-8041007932939578993</id><published>2009-02-27T01:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T01:21:45.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More pics!</title><content type='html'>I have finally had a chance to put up some more pictures.  These are from Christmas 2008 to the winter camp in the beginning of February.  And believe me it was a cold as it looked in these pictures, but thankfully things have really started to warm up! Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-8041007932939578993?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/8041007932939578993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=8041007932939578993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/8041007932939578993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/8041007932939578993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/02/more-pics.html' title='More pics!'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-6065605263607431446</id><published>2009-02-25T02:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T03:04:10.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guesting</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;To Guest&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;n.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;1&lt;/strong&gt;, To visit friends and family; a common Kyrgyz tradition that typically consists of hours of eating, drinking and gossiping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon arriving in this country I was very quickly introduced to the practice of guesting. During PST, trainers warned us of this lengthy custom and by living with host families I became very familiar with the guesting experience! Not that it is a bad tradition, but for volunteers guesting is particularly difficult seeing as the primary activity is speaking in Russian or Kyrgyz, we are often forced to muddle our way through toasts and there is always the never relenting host who will continue to fill your plate with more food, pour more vodka, and pressure you to eat more after hours of consuming food and drink! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Initially I would tense up at even the thought of guesting but now I really appreciate the custom. In my past life, I was always so busy with school, work, going to the gym, and hanging out at restaurants and coffee houses that I would never invite people over to my house for a meal.  Only with my closest friends would I go to their house for dinner and it very rarely would that last longer than two hours! But over the months of being in Kyrgyzstan, guesting seems to be one of the Kyrgyz traditions that I have truly embraced.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;In the last two weeks I have hosted volunteers from all over the country, all the staff from my NGO and have been doing quite a bit of guesting myself! Most recently I had my NGO over, since I moved into my apartment I have been meaning to invite my office over for dinner for multiple reasons. In addition to offering a gesture of friendship and transparency, I wanted to thank them for finding my apartment and having been so supportive of me, for a little cultural exchange (American cuisine in a Kyrgyz setting) and finally to put their hearts to rest by proving to them that I am surviving quite well on my own. There is an assumption that, as an American, I am so depended on technology that I will surely starve without my microwave dinners, I will live in filth without Swifters and vacuum machines and my clothes will never be cleaned as I am unable to function without a washing machine.  To be honest, initially their fears were not unjustified; but I have learned a lot since I have been here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Monday after work, four of my co-workers and my director’s daughter came to my apartment. I had decided on spaghetti for dinner, it’s quick, easy and was a hit with my host families when I would cook for them. In my opinion dessert is a crucial part of every meal so the night before I baked a large chocolate cake with vanilla frosting. Right as I finished dinner my co-workers arrived with juice, a bottle of vodka and diet coke- they have seen me chugging diet coke more than once- what can I say, it’s a rare and joyous occasion when I find diet coke and can justify spending money on that sweet, sweet beverage! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dinner went well, we all made toasts. Everyone seemed to enjoy the meal and took my leftovers home to share with their families. My director surprised me with a pair of earrings which the whole group had pitched in for!  They had bought them for me last Christmas and had finally found an opportunity to give them to me.  I was so flattered!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nights like that one are one of the reasons that I truly love being a Peace Corps volunteer. Even though that evening was no school built or large community project, I was still filling my role as a volunteer by making friends and sharing cultures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-6065605263607431446?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/6065605263607431446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=6065605263607431446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/6065605263607431446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/6065605263607431446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/02/guesting.html' title='Guesting'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-2828642943202406094</id><published>2009-02-23T03:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T03:24:44.318-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Microfinance</title><content type='html'>Less than a year ago I graduated from the University of Missouri with my Bachelors of Science in Business with an emphasis in finance. When I was nominated as a volunteer I was selected as a business advisor, but when I arrived at permanent site I was placed with a women’s NGO where I had little access to their business plans or financing.  Although I love working at this NGO, I have been on the lookout for a side project where I can continue my finance education and share the knowledge and experience which I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of months ago this opportunity fell right into my lap at a café while I was waiting for a friend to finish an English club.  I was enjoying a cup of freshly brewed coffee (there is only one restaurant with this luxury in the whole south of Kyrgyzstan,) as I began to converse with a German man, Chris, who was also enjoying a late morning breakfast.  As we introduced ourselves it was discovered out that I had a (short) finance background and he was the country director of an international program which funds microcredit financing to the rural populations throughout 13 countries in Africa and Central Asia. Upon this discovery he started telling me that he was looking for somebody to come in and give business trainings on subjects like time management, organization, using the internet and other topics which his employees had never been trained in but that he did not have time to teach them. That morning we agreed that I would start doing basic business trainings for his employees and that I would come to the Osh office once a week so I could get to know his staff and do some assessment on which areas needed attention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday was my first day. The office was amazing, it was warm, everyone had a computer, and there was constant electricity and wireless internet!!! Up until last Friday I didn’t think that wireless internet existed in this country!  Within a half hour of being in the office, I was in a meeting with the office manager, Anara, (who speaks beautiful English) and Chris.  We decided that the first training would be on report writing since Chris had expressed a frustration with the lack of consistency in the reports throughout the 8 branches in Kyrgyzstan. So that day I started designing a presentation on how to write reports which  will be presented to all eight branches in southern Kyrgyzstan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point during the day I downloaded a couple documents about this microcredit organization to learn more about their mission and goals.  My research turned out to be quite interesting.  This organization is a branch of the Aga Khan Development Network which is a not-for-profit, non-denominational, international development agency based in Geneva, Switzerland. It was founded and is directed by the Aga Khan, who is the spiritual leader of the Shia Imami Ismaili Muslims and a descendant of the Muslim Prophet, Muhammad. It’s a pretty cool development network that also has projects in economic development, social development and culture preservation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By lunch time I had been assigned a second project in helping build a commercial leasing contract, a feat way over my head! But despite my insistence on lack of experience and education on writing contracts, Chris persisted that I help one of his employees design a rental lease for an office which they will be moving into shortly. To be honest I am really appreciating a new type of challenge in my work.  Although I have been working very hard at my primary site, my energy has been directed to finding and initiating projects, while in this office I am given a finite task and I am to work until I have finished, a method much more common in my prior work experience. I think I will really enjoy the balance of the two work manners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a full day of work I was invited out with the office to celebrate Men’s Day! Men’s day is actually today and the whole country has taken the off day to recognize its men…so we celebrated Men’s Day on Friday. Back in the day, this holiday was more like a Labor Day type of holiday where soldiers were to be recognized, but over time it has become a day to celebrate men.  This has been another situation where initially I was fairly stunned because in my opinion every day is men’s day, but like so many other things I’ve had to let it go as this is not my issue to confront.  So I celebrated Men’s day with the microcredit office! We went out to a nice restaurant where there was lots of eating, dancing, celebrating and of course, all the women gave toasts of appreciation to the men of the office! So a shout out to all my male friends and acquaintances; Happy Men’s Day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-2828642943202406094?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/2828642943202406094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=2828642943202406094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/2828642943202406094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/2828642943202406094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/02/microfinance.html' title='Microfinance'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-5388779146934945806</id><published>2009-02-18T01:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T01:39:48.467-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring!</title><content type='html'>Spring is finally here! After a few days of spring showers, the weather is hovering around 65° F.  As I walk to work everyday, I find myself looking for longer routes so I can enjoy the weather a little bit longer. Another benefit of spring’s arrival is volunteers from the north are coming to visit and enjoy the warm weather. Yesterday I had two groups of volunteers come through Jalal Abad, one just passing through and the second group is to stay for a couple of days and see a little bit more of Jalal Abad. Last night we celebrated Fat Tuesday in my apartment and today as I went to work I sent them off to see the city of Uzgyn where their are some ancint relics from the Silk Road era.  I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty jealous that they are out enjoying this amazing weather while I am at work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring has also initiated the start of school.  All of my English club students had over a month of winter vacation because the school buildings had such poor heating systems.  Many schools had planned on school starting on the first of March but since this has been a particularly warm winter many schools have started early.  With school open again, I have resumed my English clubs.  I have decided to only have two English clubs this semester because I would like to have more time to work at my NGO and on secondary projects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first couple of lessons that I have had with my clubs was reading and writing letters. While school was not in session I received a package of 140 letters from 6th grade students in Houston, Texas through the World Wise School Program.  This program allows a Peace Corps volunteer and a teacher in America to be matched up and to teach their students about the others culture through letters. My WWS counterpart is a social studies teacher and integrated Kyrgyzstan and Peace Corps into her curriculum so that her students could write to my students or me.  About half of the letters had were written to me and half had were written to the students.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The letters from America contained more American culture than I could ever even list.  The students wrote about their families, their hobbies, one boy even made a point of describing ding-dong ditching! Some of the letters were sprinkled with the southern “ya’ll,” which was an excellent opportunity to describe the different dialects in America. I even read one of the letters out to the students with a southern accent! Although they thought my monologue with a southern drawl was hilarious, my students connected with it because of the huge cultural and lingual differences between the north and south of Kyrgyzstan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My students expressed a great interest in reading the letters and responding but I felt that one of the young women began to feel a bit defensive when some of the students asked if we had telvisions in Kyrgyzstan or video games.  I tried to explain to her that the class had been learning about Kyrgyz traditions and had seen pictures of Kyrgyzstan's natural beauty rather than the major cities so it would be easy for the stuents to assume that there was a lack of technology. That prompted me to try and remember what misconceptions I had of Kyrgyzstan before I moved here. I had no idea what I was going into because most of the websites about Kyrgyzstan talked about a traditional culture and nomatic lifestlye. With this in mind, I encouraged her to explain her daily life in a way that the students would have a more realistic understanding of life here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far this has been one of my favorite activities that I have done with my Engish club for a number of reasons.  First of all it is a chance for them to practice their Engish with someone other than myself.  It gives them an opporunity to share who they are wih the world and just as importantly it allowed them to get a glimps of how they are precieved in the world.  This is an activity that I would definatly do again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-5388779146934945806?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/5388779146934945806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=5388779146934945806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/5388779146934945806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/5388779146934945806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/02/spring.html' title='Spring!'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-6447232067062727562</id><published>2009-02-12T03:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T03:27:27.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Camp!</title><content type='html'>Last week was the first time in ten years that I attended a camp! This time around was quite different than my last camp experience! Not only was there no bon fire and marshmellos but it was also in the dead of winter! Initially the idea of a winter camp was absolutly absurd to me but with the current situation for students it made perfect sense as to why camps right now is the perfect idea! Let me explain, due to the lack of electricity and the harsh winters, almost all of the schools in Kyrgyzstan closed for the months of January and February.  As a result many of the volunteer teachers, who were not looking forward to being cold and bored during the break, designed winter camps to keep students out of trouble and their minds active.  Throughout Kyrgyzstan there are camps taking place about a whole variety of things but I decided to help out two of my friends that designed a camp on life skills. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With their students selected, a mini army of volunteers to control the mass of children and a small budget to work with, my two fellow volunteers pulled together an awesome camp!  It was a six day, five night camp in a sanatorium in Bazaar Korgon which is a small town just outside of Jalal Abad City. Each day the kids attended three sessions on life skills. We cover subjects including; life goals, communication, relationships, HIV/AIDS, team building, problem solving, self esteem and presentation giving. I was in charge of life goals and communication, for both sessions I had a Kyrgyz volunteer help me translate a brief statement about goals or communication and then we would play a game that would reinforce what they had just learned.   For example in the communication session we played telephone to practice speaking clearly, a game where students had to listen and repeat what they had heard (it was a lot more fun than it sounds, I let them throw a ball of yarn around) and for body language I had them get into teams and play charades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After their three sessions for the day the students had two hours of activities including sports, art, English club, debate, dance or a movie. I was in charge of art.  One day we decorated envelopes with magazine pictures and told them that these envelopes served as excellent wallets, another day we made friendship bracelets and for each day we had a new craft for the students to partake in.  I was really afraid that the students wouldn’t take to any of the activities but it was amazing! Every activity, session and game that we played was a total hit with the kids!  I really believe it’s because they had never done anything like this before and so there was no bar to compare it to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evenings we would have games including Mafia, a scavenger hunt, a movie night and other fun games that would exhaust the children and put them to sleep.  By the end of the week my daily mantra had become "Exaust the children so they will sleep so I can sleep!"  The first couple nights were pretty rought. On the first night they were all so excited to be there that they were up late into the night giggling, and the second night they decided to reinact some American movie and put toothpaste on each other while they were sleeping! Sounds cute now but it definatly wasn't at the time!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the meals were served there- as you can imagine I was terrified since I am not the biggest fan of Kyrgyz food or camp food!  So to avoid starvation I had made four batches of granola and two batches of pumpkin bread! Luckily for me the food was fine and they even gave us fruit a couple of times!!! By the end of camp I was exhausted but I had so much fun!  The kids had been great, I had a enjoyed setting up sessions and art classes and I got to work with some really great volunteers. Plus I learned how camps work in Kyrgyzstan so hopefully this summer I will be able to put together my own camp for some Jalal Abad City students!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-6447232067062727562?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/6447232067062727562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=6447232067062727562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/6447232067062727562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/6447232067062727562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/02/winter-camp.html' title='Winter Camp!'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-4950040494312953429</id><published>2009-01-26T22:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T22:49:33.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 2009!</title><content type='html'>First of all my apologies for, once again, falling behind on my blogging.  The holidays through January has proven to be a very hectic time! Apparently the holiday spirit can follow you anywhere around the world and then some seeing as it has been a month since my last entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my last update Christmas has come and gone.  Once again all the Jalal Abad crew got together and created an amazing holiday feast. By far the highlight of the meal was Fritz’s homemade eggnog; it had real eggs, real whipping cream and a lot of bourbon! He said that beating the eggs and whipping the cream by hand was quite the experience!  After a non-traditional Christmas dinner- chili and cornbread- we had a gift exchange. I received a pair of mittens that one of the volunteers knitted, they were absolutely beautiful! I thought only machines could stitch things that pretty!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of our Christmas weekend, New Years was just around the corner and so before I knew it I was preparing for people to come in once again for another holiday celebration.  This time the group wasn’t quite as large, but yet again, we cooked up quite the feast and brought in the New Year with Moldavian Champaign and Chinese fireworks- both gave me reason to fear I might not live to see much of the year 2009!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following week flew by as I prepared for my first trip back up to Bishkek since I had been at permanent site.  I, with the rest of my volunteer group, were to go to the capital for a week long training.  The first two days were spent with our counterparts, I brought my director. Having my director to myself was a real gift seeing as she is always so preoccupied with work.  I really took advantage of the time and got to know her and learn more about her long term visions for the NGO.  The rest of the week was dedicated to debriefings on security, health care, program details, and language lessons.  The  days were long and the sessions became fairly tedious but every evening all the volunteers would get together, have a couple of drinks and just hang out.  It was so fun to hear about what people outside of the south were doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the week I had become quite sick and just wanted to go home, but I had planned on staying an extra day and doing some shopping while I was in Bishkek. So I spent my last day in the north running around the city and ended up with six pounds of brown sugar, a bottle of tequila, a bottle of rum and two new DVDs!!!  I’m not going to lie, I went a little over board with the brown sugar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I’m back in the south where it is starting to warm up.  Most of the ice has melted and I am now walking to work every day which gives me about an hour of easy exercise and lots of fresh air.  February is going to be another busy month.  I have plans to help out with three camps in the region that other volunteers are organizing.  Peace Corps helped find funding for volunteers to put on winter camps for students because majority of the schools will be closed through February due to the lack of heating in the school buildings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the apartment I am feeling more and  more at home as each day goes by.  I had been hoping to get a kitten to keep me company during the week, but Ian surprised me with two parakeets so no cat.  The parakeets are really cute, its so funny to watch them interact with each other!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that is about all that I have been up to over the last month. My apologies again for the month without a post, I’ll do my best to catch up and put up some extra good stories this month!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-4950040494312953429?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/4950040494312953429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=4950040494312953429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/4950040494312953429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/4950040494312953429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-2009.html' title='Happy 2009!'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-7094940328778572389</id><published>2008-12-19T02:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T02:39:41.402-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here come Santa Clause</title><content type='html'>With less than a week before Christmas, I can finally say that it is starting to feel a lot like Christmas! Jalal Abad had its first snow last night, it was really only a dusting but its always fun to get out of bed in the morning and see the ground covered in snow.   In addition to the snow, the whole city is covered in holiday decoration, there are Christmas trees on sale at the bazaar, the grocery store has a giant Santa in the entrance and all the students are wrapping up their classes and getting ready for the exams- just like I was this time last year! Despite the Christmas feel, the Kyrgyz are actually getting ready for New Years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s quite strange, their New Years looks a lot like an American Christmas.  &lt;br /&gt;I can’t figure out exactly where this Christmas spirit comes from, but an interesting fact, which I believe contributed to this Christmas spirit, was when some Swedish researchers located the most strategic place where Santa’s North Pole should be; they pinpointed Kyrgyzstan! As would I if I were Kyrgyz, they are quite proud of the fact that if Santa really existed, he would live in the Tien Shan Mountains of Kyrgyzstan. But even with their enthusiasm, this is a predominantly Muslim country so they couldn’t quite fit Christmas onto their calendar and therefore decided to improvise.  In Kyrgyzstan, Santa Clause delivers presents on New Year’s Day for all the good little boys and girls of Kyrgyzstan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in Osh and Jalal Abad, Santa will be joining us on Christmas day. This Thursday the Osh and Jalal Abad volunteers are all getting together on Christmas day and doing secret Santa. About a month ago we all drew names and decided on a cap of 200 coms (about $5) to spend on our secret santa.  In addition to a gift exchange we will be putting together a Christmas dinner.  And even though I was not present last weekend, when the volunteers were organizing the menu, I was nominated to make my synthetic sweet potatoes again! This time it will be a lot easier to make the dish because I have finally moved into my apartment! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The move took place this morning, the actual moving was easy but it was hard to leave the family. Because my Russian is not up to par, prior to packing I had a woman write a letter to my host family on my behalf thanking them for their hospitality and kindness. When I gave them this letter my host mother, host sister and the new wife all came to my room sat down and started asking why I was leaving.  The one thing that I didn’t want them to do was to take my moving personal but to a certain extent I think it was inevitable since people don’t move away from family in this culture.  For example a young woman only leaves her parents home when she gets married, the youngest son must live with his parents and take care of them as they get older. So when I said I wanted to move to an apartment by myself, they were a bit taken aback. Only after lots of reassurance that I loved their family and I would visit often would they accept the fact that I was leaving. In spite of the difficult goodbye, I am really excited to have my own place and the timing is perfect! This apartment is like my Christmas present to myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I move into my new apartment and slip and slide through the icy streets of Jalal Abad, keep me in your thoughts because this is the first Christmas I will spend away from my family!!! Happy Holidays to everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-7094940328778572389?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/7094940328778572389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=7094940328778572389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/7094940328778572389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/7094940328778572389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2008/12/here-come-santa-clause.html' title='Here come Santa Clause'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-8938955537288184070</id><published>2008-12-11T03:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T03:21:08.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wish List</title><content type='html'>As Christmas time is approaching I have received a couple of emails asking me what they could send me for Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Here is a wish list that I have compiled;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coffee- ground for French press&lt;br /&gt;Puzzles- (1000 piece- I got some cold winter months to kill!)&lt;br /&gt;Flaming  hot Cheetos&lt;br /&gt;Teeth whitening strips&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate&lt;br /&gt;Herbal teas&lt;br /&gt;Ranch dress seasoning packets&lt;br /&gt;Seasoning packets for things like tacos, chili, soups, ect.&lt;br /&gt;Travel money- I’m planning a trip to Uzbekistan- please send this one to my parents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my mailing address so you can just print this out and tape it onto the package.  Also if you can find the muslim symbol (its just a cresent moon and star) on the internet and stick/draw that onto the package as well that is suppose to deter tampering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;KYRGYZSTAN                                &lt;br /&gt;715612 Jalalabat city &lt;br /&gt;Toktagul Road &lt;br /&gt;House 7, Apt. 11          &lt;br /&gt;Martha Haddock &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;КЫРГЫСТАН&lt;br /&gt;715612 г. Жалалабат&lt;br /&gt;Переулок Токтогула&lt;br /&gt;Дом 7    КВ 11 &lt;br /&gt;Хэддок Марта&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really appreciate the warm thoughts that people have been sending me! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Martha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-8938955537288184070?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/8938955537288184070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=8938955537288184070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/8938955537288184070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/8938955537288184070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2008/12/wish-list.html' title='Wish List'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-3902591960738199607</id><published>2008-12-11T02:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T03:02:48.278-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My first Thanksgiving in Kyrgyzstan</title><content type='html'>One of the things that I have been dreading since I have been in country is spending the holidays without my family.  To avoid feeling homesick over thanksgiving weekend I made tons of plans with other volunteers to celebrate the holidays. Starting with Thanksgiving Day I had planned on going down to Osh to have dinner with the Osh volunteers but as the day unfolded I felt obligated to stay at work and get some things done. By the time I had wrapped up all my work I didn’t have time to travel all the way down to Osh and make it for dinner.  But luckily for me, two village volunteers, Lesley and Ariel, had decided to come into Jalal Abat and have Thanksgiving dinner in the city.  So together we went to the bazaar and bought all the ingredients for a nice dinner.  My purchase was a kilo of pork.  Now this may seem insignificant to some but this purchase was actually one of the pinnacle moments of my service thus far. To put it in perspective, let me remind you that this is a Muslim country and eating pork is taboo, thus pork is not the easiest thing to find at your local bazaar but compliments to the small Russian population that still resides in this country it is here, you just gotta know who to go to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been introduced to the pork lady by Fritz, who had been directed to the pork stall by an anonymous lead who claimed he could only buy pork in the dark of the night, when no one would recognize him! To get to the pork stand I had to go deep into the heart of the bazaar and slip behind some fruit and vegetable stalls. As the pork lady and I made the deal I had to remind myself that there was no need to look suspiciously over my shoulder every five seconds or sneak around corners, this was not that exciting and that I was just buying dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my pork mission completed, we returned to my friend’s apartment where Fritz, Ginger, Lesley, Ariel and I prepared our first Thanksgiving dinner in Kyrgyzstan.   To go with the pig we had a salad and mashed potatoes, and for dessert we had an apple pie that Ariel made. It was amazing! By 10 pm the power had gone out and so we lit candles and continued to sit at the table and chat through the night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following Saturday was when we had all of the volunteers in town and hosted the bigger Thanksgiving dinner. Initially we had planned on buying a turkey and roasting it, but buying a turkey in Kyrgyzstan is a bit more of an ordeal than it is at grocery stores in the states. When you buy the turkey here, you walk away with a live and feathery creature dangling from your arm.  Then you gotta kill it, gut it, and defeather it.  We opted to go for fried chicken as our main dish since you can buy chicken pre-killed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cooking the meal was interesting.  As if preparing food without the luxury of canned goods and food processing machines wasn’t hard enough, for some reason, the whole city was without electricity and water, it was inconvenient to say the least!  But since power and water outages are not exactly a rarity, we had stored up gallons of water and were able to pull together a beautiful thanksgiving dinner.  Fritz and Ginger fried buckets and buckets of chicken, Ted’s mother had mailed him pecans and so Lesley made a pecan pie and an apple pie, there were mashed potatoes, salad, beans, and finally sweet potatoes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in charge of sweet potatoes. When I volunteered for the dish, everyone looked at me as if I had gone mad, rightfully so since there are no sweet potatoes in this country.  But my mom has an amazing sweet potato casserole recipe that I was determined to make, so based on my highly developed scientific skills I created synthetic sweet potatoes.  Now this is a very complicated and scientific process but here is a basic outline of the procedure; first I analyzed the characteristics of sweet potatoes. Sweet potatoes are orange roots that are sweet and starchy. Following that logic carrots are orange roots and pumpkins are sweet and starchy, therefore by boiling and mashing these two compounds and combining them together I created synthetic sweet potatoes!  I’ll have you know it work and was a total hit. Just call me Dr. Martha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following day my parents called to wish me happy Thanksgiving. Hearing them talk about their Thanksgiving dinner made me a bit homesick but as I told them about the adventures I had, all in the name of celebrating thanksgiving, I had to laugh how exhilarating (and exhausting) my first Thanksgiving had been in Kyrgyzstan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-3902591960738199607?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/3902591960738199607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=3902591960738199607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/3902591960738199607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/3902591960738199607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-first-thanksgiving-in-kyrgyzstan.html' title='My first Thanksgiving in Kyrgyzstan'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-5338115239647518113</id><published>2008-12-11T02:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:56:33.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Apartment</title><content type='html'>One of Peace Corps Kyrgyzstan’s requirements is that you must live with a host family during the three months of training plus an additional three months at permanent site.  Living with a host family has numerous benefits including familiarizing volunteers with local culture and norms, language improvements and having family members show you the ropes around town.  But living with a host family has been one of my biggest challenges during my service. Don’t get me wrong, I have been blessed with very comfortable homes, great host siblings, I have been included in weddings, I was present for the birth of a new family member and I learned infinites about Kyrgyz culture through these families.  I can honestly say that I have really benefited from living with my two host families.  Unfortunately America has instilled a sense of independence within me and I can only deal with so much of living in another family’s home! I am yearning for my own kitchen, for my own schedule and for the freedom of knowing that I am not inconveniencing someone while I go about my morning and evening routines. So come ten days, after I have served my time with host families, I will have my own place!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all happened so quickly, less than two weeks ago my NGO director took me to look at a little apartment about 20 minutes away from the office and by the end of the week I had paid my first month’s rent!  My future pad is a furnished apartment on the ground floor of an apartment building with one bedroom, living room, kitchen and get this; an indoor toilet!  For the last six months my bathroom has consisted of an outhouse with a hole in the ground, but from here on out there will be no more going out in the cold winter nights to pee, just that sweet sound of a toilet flushing! Life will be good!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kitchen is small and the oven can only be closed by propping a heavy board against the door of the oven, but it works!!! Last weekend I spend a couple of nights there and successfully made a loaf of corn bread with that oven.  Had I seen this place 6 months ago I would have considered that kitchen impossible to cook in but I have learned a lot since then and last weekend I successfully make tacos, chili, corn bread and omelets!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to the apartment I also have a huge veranda! Come summer it’s going to be great! I showed a couple of volunteers the apartment and the second they saw my veranda I could see each of them planning and arranging summer barbeques and at my house! Right across from my veranda are four little stalls, kinda like a mini bazaar, where I can buy any basic item including eggs, fruits, flour, sugar, soap, candles, bread and of course vodka! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As hard as it will be to say goodbye to my thirteen year old host sister, I think this apartment will have a huge impact on my peace of mind and comfort levels.  Plus I’ll be able to distract myself from the cold by  decorating my new home during the winter!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-5338115239647518113?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/5338115239647518113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=5338115239647518113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/5338115239647518113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/5338115239647518113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2008/12/new-apartment.html' title='New Apartment'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-981893181588635377</id><published>2008-12-11T02:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:52:49.845-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Research Project</title><content type='html'>Over the last three months I have spent a lot of time working on my language, settling in, getting to know people and working with the English clubs. But now that I am more comfortable at work, I am looking for some more sustainable and long term projects. For the last month I have been playing with the idea of doing a research project where I would conduct a survey, analyze the data and then based on what I concluded I will create workshops addressing the chosen theme. Until recently I wasn’t sure what area I wanted to focus on but when I was approached by a young woman who asked me to help her translate a letter which she had received from a British family, I was finally inspired.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The letter that this young woman wanted help with was a response from a man in the United Kingdom.  Apparently she had been applying for nanny jobs in America and Europe over the internet and this man had found her resume and responded by offering her a job.  According to this letter she would be flown to London where she would be in charge of watching over his two children in his “big house with a lovely garden.” The letter painted a charming picture and stated that this was a well off British family who needed a little help around the house. The only problem was that the person who wrote that letter was not a native English speaker.  Each sentence had numerous grammatical and spelling errors, the wording didn’t make sense and in my opinion the whole thing seemed really shady. Prior to joining the Peace Corps I had helped plan a conference about human trafficking and so I have been exposed to what human trafficking is and some of the basic methods that traffickers use in order to recruit men and women for a life of slavery. The perfect nanny job found over the internet with no legal documentation seems like a text book example of how a person gets sucked into human trafficking.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I shared my concerns with the young woman, she brushed it off and said she didn’t think that was the case.  She thought that this man seemed very nice and it would all be fine.  I started asking her questions like ‘what would you do if he had lied to you and actually wanted you to work somewhere else? What would you do if he didn’t pay you? What would happen do if you became sick?  What if your mother became sick, would he pay for a ticket back to Kyrgyzstan? Who would you call if there was a problem? Where would you go?’  For every question I asked, I received nothing but a blank stare.  She didn’t know anyone in the UK, she didn’t know how the legal system worked or even how to fill out a visa form.   There had been no planning or forethought when she started applying for these jobs around the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after over an hour of explaining what human trafficking is, why I thought her letter was a scam, and how dangerous it could be, this young woman was still blinded with the hope of finding a job in the UK.  I walked away really discouraged and frustrated. All that evening the only thing I could think about was this young woman’s vulnerability.  Her vulnerability didn’t come from her lack of physical strength, or her inability to understand English. Her vulnerability stemmed from her desperation and lack of planning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This interaction is what lead me to my research and workshop idea. Over the next 2 years I want to conduct a survey where I will evaluate the long term planning skills of local university women. Based on the results of the survey I want to conduct monthly workshops for women about topics such as goal setting,  long term planning, having a plan b, how to use available resources and subjects along those lines. It’s going to be a lot of work but I think that it would be really interesting and rewarding.  Currently I am researching how to research.  It would only make sense if my research project on effective long term planning was planned out well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But honestly, I can only hope that through this project I will plant the seed of long term planning in the minds of young women. So that people, like the young lady that I spoke with, will start looking at these opportunities with open eyes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-981893181588635377?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/981893181588635377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=981893181588635377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/981893181588635377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/981893181588635377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2008/12/research-project.html' title='Research Project'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-4444940859415196301</id><published>2008-11-18T03:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T04:02:39.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend in Arslenbob *more pics*</title><content type='html'>Even before I moved to Jalal Abad I had heard about a mountain village called Arslenbob where there were spectacular views, great hiking and, like a cherry on top, the world’s largest walnut forest! Unfortunately I had not made it up to Arslenbob since I had been to permanent site so when Fritz and Ginger, my neighboring volunteers, invited me to join them for a weekend I gladly accepted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That Saturday morning, before I left, I told my visiting host sister, who was on the verge of popping out a child, that if the baby came to call me and I would get back as soon as possible. Then Ian, who was visiting for the weekend, and I went to the center of town where we met Fritz and Ginger.  Luckily for me, just as we started haggling with the taxi drivers my parents called from the U.S. so I got out of bargaining for taxi prices- thanks guys! Between the three of them they managed to bargain a taxi driver into giving us a three hour ride to Arslenbob for just under 500 com which converts to about $13.  While we drove up into the mountains the sun was hidden behind the clouds so we weren’t able to enjoy the view that we had heard so much about. What we did see as we drove higher up was more and more snow on the ground! That was the first time I had seen snow in the country and it was a frosty reminder of how cold it will be over the next three months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we got to Arslenbob there was probably about 4 inches of snow on the ground.  We all piled out of the tiny car that we had squeezed ourselves into and immediately we were greeted by an employee of the CBT Organization. CBT stands for Community Based Tourism and is a group that helps the local community organizes home stays and activities for tourism. This functions to direct money coming into Arslenbob to the community rather than to big hotels and tourism companies.  We decided to stay with a local family for a couple of reasons; number one because it is cheaper and secondly it allows tourists to connect with the area that they are visiting. And that it did! As soon as our host picked us up, he informed us that as once we dropped off our bags and had a cup of tea we would be off to a celebration which was being hosted by his brother. When we arrived at the house we did just that, we each had our own cozy little room where we threw down our bags and then stepped into the main house where there was tea and snacks waiting for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still can’t tell you with certainty what the celebration was about but I do know that it was not a wedding and there was a Muslim tradition behind it. At the brother’s house there were probably about a hundred people there with music and food.  Arslenbob is 99% Uzbek so there were the same Uzbek horns that I had seen at the Uzbek wedding and tons of osh, their national dish. We sat there for an hour or two, made some toast, were introduced to our host’s family and friends. Eventually we snuck out so we could do some quick sightseeing before dinner. Our host drove us to a small waterfall which had a beautiful view and was a sight where many couples came to pray for fertility.  The cliff that the waterfall was flowing off of was covered with icicles and apparently the waterfall itself would freeze within the next month. Afterwards we went back to the house, had a quick nap and then sat down for dinner, because we had eaten so much at the celebration earlier we all just had a bowl of soup and some more tea.  Once dinner was over we went back to our room where there was a log stove that was heating the room up nicely and all four of us sat over a bottle of Moldavian red wine and chatted until the power finally went out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That next morning we woke up to blue skies, a true blessing as we had not had a blue sky since the wedding a week and a half ago.  After breakfast we went for a long hike that took us to a cliff where we could see the whole village of Arslenbob.  The entire walk was through snow, but with the sun shining it started to warm up and eventually we all took off our coats and enjoyed the beautiful weather. From the mountain cliff the view was absolutely stunning! Gazing down on Arslenbob from that mountain reminded me very much of the small town in Switzerland that my mother grew up in.  That thought was interrupted quite quickly when some traditional Uzbek music began blasting from somewhere below us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took an alternative route home which led us through a section of the famous walnut forest, an apple orchard and a currant farm.  Eventually we swung back around to the small waterfall that we had seen the day before and made our way home.  Once we got back, we sat down again for tea and snacks, packed up our things and headed back to Jalal Abad.  I guess between the hike and keeping warm I had really worn myself out because we had hardly left Arslenbob before I was asleep in the back of the car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire time that we were up there I did not have phone service, so when I arrived at my house that evening I found out that my host sister had given birth the night before to a little girl. The birth took four hour, but the baby was as healthy as could be and weight a whole 3 kg (6.6 lbs).  The new born and her mother were still at the hospital recuperating from the birth and after a few shots of vodka to celebrate we were off to go see the new mother and child.  My host family, grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins all went to the hospital, which was actually not a hospital but rather a birthing building where women went to have their babies. We were all standing outside waving to my host sister who was standing at her window when I turned to my host brother and asked if we would be able to see her. He shrugged and said maybe, he then took me to the front entrance, called over one of the midwives, handed her a 50 com note (despite my protests) and we were hurried in. Gulmeria, my host sister, looked tired but happy. It was so good to see her well but I couldn’t help but notice how small she looked without her swollen belly!  I didn’t get a chance to see the baby but apparently they will be coming home this evening and there will be more celebration!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-4444940859415196301?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/4444940859415196301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=4444940859415196301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/4444940859415196301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/4444940859415196301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2008/11/weekend-in-arslenbob-more-pics.html' title='Weekend in Arslenbob *more pics*'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-153038205509589062</id><published>2008-11-11T23:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T00:14:02.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Fine Tuesday *New pics added*</title><content type='html'>Well it’s still raining on a daily basis here with only a one-day break of sunlight over the last two and a half weeks. Sure enough that day of clear skies happened to be the wedding day of Ian’s host sister. I was lucky enough to be invited to the wedding, which I was really excited about because I have gotten to know the bride and her family, plus this would be the first Uzbek wedding that I had seen.  In addition to the wedding that fine Tuesday, America’s presidential election was taking place and a local university was hosting a watch party and a discussion session about American politics. Now I will be the first to admit that I know nothing about politics but I saw a trip down to Osh as an opportunity to help out other volunteers and have an exciting cultural experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morning of the wedding I arrived at the bride’s house to find the whole compound transformed. They had remodeled the interior of the house, painted the outside and had set up hundreds of chairs and tables for the guests. The house was flooded with family and friends who were all feasting and celebrating the new marriage and in the foreground was a group of musicians playing traditional Uzbek music just about as loud as they could. I am quite sure that everyone in the center of Osh that morning knew that Nilafar was getting married. Eventually the groom and his party arrived and the toasts began. It was quite a process giving a toast, after each guest gave their congratulations to the groom they would have to dance in front of everyone while other guests and the groom would give them money which would eventually go into the hands of the wedding musicians.  About half an hour into the toasting Ian and I were sitting admiring the festivities when I heard our names called out and immediately everyone turn to look at us. It doesn’t matter how many times it happens, every time I get called up to give a toast my heart freezes with fear. At that point there is only one thing to do, so we got up and gave our toast and did our best to mimic Uzbek dancing…it was not pretty! But to our surprise we survived and the next person was called up to give their toast.  After about an hour of toasts the groom went down stairs with his party to retrieve the bride and much like in Kyrgyz weddings everyone piled into cars and went to a local monument to take pictures with the bride and groom.  The chosen monument of Osh was a memorial site right next to the largest statue of Lenin in all of Central Asia- yeah, it’s a big deal! Followed by the photo fest the whole party moved on the a restaurant where the celebration would continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once there we were greeted with music and food yet again. The band picked up immediately and the toasts continued. Ian and I were called up once again but this time we had a five minute warning and had a moment to prepare ourselves.  At the last minute Ian had the brilliant idea of doing some very basic swing dance steps rather than butchering the traditional Uzbek dances. So we both gave toasts wishing happiness and love for the new couple and then twirled and swung around the dance floor for a while.  When we got back to our seats we were both shaking with the adrenalin from dancing in front of hundreds of people but despite my horrible coordination will still received complements for the rest of the evening on our dancing! Around eleven o’clock the party started to wind down and we all jumped onto a rented marshuka and made our way back home. As I had been told, Uzbek weddings and Kyrgyz weddings are very similar with one major difference; at Uzbek weddings there not a drop of alcohol to be found!  As a result there were no drunks trying to pull us out onto the dance floor or forcing vodka down our throats, so to be honest I didn’t mind at all!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was the election party.  The American Corner, where the election party was taking place, received CNN so we watched the polls come in live. It was around 11 am when the west coast was finally called, congratulations Obama! The whole afternoon went really well; there were three embassy employees that came down from Bishkek with pamphlets which explained the election process and who the candidates were.  The volunteers gave great presentations on the Electoral College, the importance of voting and any other questions that the students had about America’s election process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then it has rained and then rained some more.  Yesterday I received a package from my parents which was full of books, cooking supplies and other things that I could not find here! I never thought I would get so excited about measuring spoons and a yoga magazine--but I did! Thanks you guys- you made my month!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-153038205509589062?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/153038205509589062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=153038205509589062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/153038205509589062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/153038205509589062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2008/11/fine-tuesday.html' title='A Fine Tuesday *New pics added*'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263087186390850039.post-8555538714751110292</id><published>2008-11-02T21:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T22:08:04.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Omar, The Kyrgyz Star!!!</title><content type='html'>For the last week it has been overcast with light rains and dropping temperatures, for me it has been a nasty foreshadow of the long, cold winter to come. The winter has all of Kyrgyzstan in knots; at work we talk about how cold the office will be without electricity, many Kyrgyz schools are planning on extending winter holiday for a month because the classrooms get so cold, and at the American Corner, where I lead four of my English clubs, they talk about the promises that President Bakiv has made on public television which “guarantees” the elimination of power cuts during the winter. As a volunteer I have been praying for electricity and bundling up really well! I haven’t pulled out my thermal underwear yet, but I would say give it less than a month before those little butt-warmers become a crucial accessory to my outfit every day and every night.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the approach of winter, life has gone on.  I have started some outreach programs with American schools in attempts to exchange culture between students. The first one is World Wise Schools, where I have been matched up with a middle school teacher in Houston, TX and we have classroom exchanges. I have also started investigating a program called One World where I could collect 30 pieces of art that has been made by Kyrgyz school kids with national themes in it, mail it off to the states, and in return I would receive 30 different pieces of art that American students made with an American theme to it. I think that is a really fun and expressive way to exchange cultures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even with the establishment of routines and habits here, I still have to just sit back and laugh at some of the situations I find myself in. The most recent shenanigan I muddled into was last Thursday. After a long, cold walk home through the rain I received a phone call from one of the students from my English club.  Confused, I picked up the phone and was informed by them that they had bought me a ticket to Omar’s (a Kyrgyz pop star) concert that was taking place in less than an hour. The water for my tea had just started to boil and as flattered as I was there was a significant part of me that just wanted to stay home and enjoy my tea rather than trek back through the gloomy day to go meet my students again.  But I turned the gas off and left to go see Omar perform at the local theatre. &lt;br /&gt;It turned out to be quite the event! Compliments to the lights swirling around and the disco balling reflecting little squares of color through out the theater I started having flash backs to my 8th grade dances as I walked in. But that stopped real fast when the performance opened with two Russian dancers jumping around on stage to 50 cent in Lakers’ jerseys.  They were followed by a lip-synching Kyrgyz singer and an MC who was up on stage apparently telling joke after joke which I couldn’t understand for the life of me! Eventually Omar, the main guy, came on stage with a big pair of sunglasses on and sang three or four songs. He sang about half in Kyrgyz and then a couple in Russian and even one in English!  I’m not going to lie; he even had me swooning with his English song!  As he finished his last song the MC jumped back up on stage and continued with his antics, he had the whole crowd in stitches! Over the course of the next couple of hours several more Kyrgyz singers got up on stage and Omar returned to the stage for a couple more songs.  While he was on stage, young women would walk up to him and hand him a bouquet of flowers or a little note on which they had confessed their undying love for him.  He graciously took each bouquet of flowers and each note and gave each young woman a hug and peck on the cheek and then went right back to singing.   It was quite a show and I was glad I attended. My students had been great and had walked me through the concert explaining what was going on and which song they loved the most!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only imagine what this week has in store for me! Tomorrow I am attending an Uzbek wedding, I’m really looking forward to the food, Uzbeks are said to be the best cooks in the country!  Also this is election week so a bunch of the volunteers are going to the American Center in Osh and spending the night so we can watch the elections live!  We’ll see if there is power to do that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5263087186390850039-8555538714751110292?l=marthapcadventure.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/feeds/8555538714751110292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5263087186390850039&amp;postID=8555538714751110292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/8555538714751110292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5263087186390850039/posts/default/8555538714751110292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marthapcadventure.blogspot.com/2008/11/omar-kyrgyz-star.html' title='Omar, The Kyrgyz Star!!!'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00033469598687179913</uri><email>MarthaGeneva@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07838714156784322048'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>