Happy Turkey Day!

I just wanted to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving. We just got back from a delicious dinner at my co-worker's house. We actually found a frozen Turkey, straight from the US. The markets seem to stock a couple of them just in case any Americans want to buy one. The meal was fabulous! It tasted just like home. Although this will be my first Thanksgiving without football or a parade in as long as I can remember, it was just as fabulous as any other. Karl was actually able to take a few hours off of work to celebrate with us. He's back at work now, and since T-day is a true American holiday, I have work tomorrow as well. The tryptophan is kicking in so I better get to bed. The closest "true" family we have may be 10,000 miles away, but my school family makes us feel right at home.

Turkish Delight

How do you change perception? As an American living outside the US, you become acutely aware of foreigners opinions of Americans. Other than being taken advantage of every day by vendors that know you have money because you are a westerner, I haven't personally experienced any ill feelings towards us for being American. Actually, it's the opposite. Most people are interested by us or at least indifferent. When we pass kids in the street or on the bus and they notice us speaking English, they smile, whisper
among themselves, then start speaking any English words they know. A little girl in my building knows I speak English, and every time she see's me she says, "Hello." I think that's the only word she knows because I get a blank stare when I say, "Hello! How are you?" I've often heard that when traveling abroad Americans find it easier to lie and say they are Canadian rather than take the chance of upsetting people by admitting they are American. I'm not one to walk on eggshells and lie about where I'm from. I'm proud to be from the U.S. and I don't think I'm helping anyone by concealing by nationality. Generally speaking, the world has a less than favorable opinion of Americans. But how do we change that? I think the only way to change someone's perception of Americans is for that person to meet Americans and talk with them and draw the conclusion that we aren't, as a rule, rude, rich, and righteous.

Hopefully, Karl and I changed some perceptions on our recent vacation in Antalya, Turkey. Last month we took our first, much needed vacation. Neither of us knew what to expect, vacationing in a country that borders both Iraq and Iran. We never once felt unwelcome or disliked for being American. It was quite the opposite. I'd never felt so welcome in an unfamiliar place as I did in Antalya, Turkey.

The Turkish people are so warm and friendly and open to people from all over the world. Antalya is a city on the Mediterranean Sea that hosts mostly vacationing Europeans. We went at the start of the low season, but the weather was as warm as the people. I have to admit, our first dinner in Turkey was at McDonald's. But every other detail of our trip was truly Turkish. The landscape was breath-taking; mountains covered with pine and pomegranates reaching to the sky, the salty sea with water as clear as glass. We swam in water and walked down roads that people walked on in 200 B.C. Any shop we walked into, the shopkeepers would share apple, pomegranate, or black tea with us and would invite us to sit and talk. This was not done as a sales tactic. The people honestly just enjoy speaking with you and they want to be hospitable. They would share their favorite places with us and give us directions to find them. Then we'd be invited back the next day to share what we thought of their advice. When we were driving around lost (which was pretty much every day) we'd stop and ask other drivers for directions. Several people just motioned us to follow them and they'd lead us to our destination. Antalya doesn't get many American tourists. It's obviously far from home and not even on the radar as far as typical vacation destinations. But it should be. I don't feel that I have adequate words to describe the beauty of the people or the location. But I do have pictures and video! And lots of it. I hope you enjoy it.

Click here to see more pictures of our Turkey trip!

Chinese Cake Fights

It all started out innocent enough, but what transpired over dinner on Wednesday night was anything but typical...
Karl had one of his 9 days a month off last Wednesday and we decided to go out to dinner at The General, our favorite Chinese restaurant here in Bishkek. We've been several times but never had we experienced the utter chaos that ensued. After a 10 minute Soviet era electric trolley bus ride we walked up to the restaurant and found it packed. But, being preferred customers (Americans who tip more than the standard 10% they tack on bills here) a table was set up for us on the platforms along the wall. There were four huge tables in the main dining area where approximately 50 loud, raucous, drunk Chinese people were having dinner. They were shouting in some Chinese dialect, similar to Mandarin, and standing up to toast and drink every 2 minutes. Karl and I ordered our dinner and tried to figure out what they were speaking. After about 15 minutes they decided it was time to turn the restaurant into a disco. The music of choice (brain-thumping techno) was blasted while colored lights flashed and drunk ass Chinese men undulated to the beat.
The techno was pounding so loud I couldn't hear Karl across the table. However, the dancing was so entertaining I didn't mind so much. Apparently, these vendors from Dordoi Bazaar (the largest bazaar in central Asia) were celebrating several birthdays. The first birthday boy was a stick thin guy with crazy hair who looked more like an anime character than flesh and blood. While they were bringing out his cake, he was busy on the dance floor shaking his head incessantly at the speaker (he had been at it for about 5 minutes). When he finally turned to see his cake, he smacked the bottom of the tray sending birthday cake sailing through the air!
Something snapped in these vendors and the other 6 cakes that were brought out were each smashed is someone's face or flung through the air, candles burning and all. A massive cake fight broke out- girls hiding under tablecloths, people running into our little room thinking they wouldn't dare get the Americans, dishes breaking, chairs being overturned. Within seconds, Andy the manager came to the rescue and shooed the fleeing girls out of our booth and stood guard trying to keep the crazy cake flinging Asians out of our hair. Karl and I stood stunned against the back wall, dodging frosting and birthday candles. After 10 minutes of complete cake soaring chaos, the participants had fled and all that was left was a frosting filled restaurant. Cake was smeared on the walls, the ceiling, splattered on the floor amongst beer bottles and broccoli beef. I don't know how we escaped unscathed. The best part...I had just received a new video camera and took it along to see how it worked...

Honeymoon's Over...Or is it???

So it's been 53 days since I've driven a car, seen a McDonalds, or drank anything but instant coffee (coffeepots and ground coffee are quite difficult to find here). At first everything was interesting and endearing: the rooster crowing incessantly at dawn, waking up to the rhythmic scratch of the old woman's witch-broom on the sidewalks, being surrounded by apple, orange, and eggplant pyramids in the outdoor markets. But then I started work, teaching kids at an American school where embassies pay near $20K per child to educate the diplomat's offspring. Now I leave my flat and prepare myself to make like a sardine on the "marshutka" before the rooster even begins to crow. I realize that the ancient women have to sweep the sidewalks daily because people here have no concept of waste management. If there were no besom broom carrying women, the streets would be filled with candy wrappers, cigarettes, and other unmentionables. Now I realize that every time I go to the markets to buy produce, the vendors figure I'm a westerner and proceed to insist I pay double or triple what the locals pay. Honestly, with $1 being equivalent to 37 com, I feel like I'm spending monopoly money. Yet with all of its flaws, Bishkek is still intriguing and I am still thrilled to be here.
I have finally gotten through the adjustment period. I can use the public transportation to get around. I have bravely bought and cooked "fresh killed meat" (as one local friend likes to call it) from the outdoor bazaars. At home I wouldn't use the same fork to put the meat on the grill as I would to take it off, and now I'm eating unrefrigerated meat that has probably been touched by several flies. And, I finally got internet in my flat. It's a bit expensive, but reliable and pretty fast. With my impetuous decision to accept a teaching job in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan and start work 3 weeks later, there are many people I did not get to speak to prior to moving. I am hoping that I will keep up this blog so I can stay in touch with those people living half a day before me drinking a cup of joe from McDonalds while driving themselves to work.