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Published: March 2nd 2008
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I spent this weekend at the village. While I was there, Rahat’s mother was busy sewing felt shoes for her relatives. All Kyrgyz women in the villages know how to sew very well. They make their own blankets, hats, rugs, purses, felt toys for their kids, and seat cushins. While she was working, we were sitting in the living room watching Kyrgyz TV. As usual, the tv show featured Kyrgyz singers who were dressed in traditional outfits. While they sung, pictures of Kyrgyzstan’s mountains, streams, and lakes were on the screen. The Kyrgyz are very proud of Kyrgyzstan’s natural beauty, so you see it all the time on TV.
While Rahat’s mom was sewing, the power went out. Since it was 9pm, the room became pitch black. I had never experienced being in such a dark place before. It was like I was blind. In America, even when our power goes out, it is never absolutely pitch black. But there, it was so dark that you couldn’t even see the outlines of anything. Somehow, Rahat’s mother managed to go to the kitchen, find a candle and cup, and return to the living room. There, she lit the candle and allowed the
wax to drip down into the cup. Once there was enough wax, she stuck the candle in it to hold it there. Everything was visible once more.
In the morning, I woke up to find Rahat’s father preparing for the local bazaar. He carried one of the sheep to the car, bound her feet, put her in the trunk, and drove off to sell the sheep at the bazaar. I was surprised that the sheep didn’t rebel much. For the most part, she calmly lay on the ground while he bound her feet.
Later on, I went for a walk in the village. As I went off of Rahat’s family’s property, I saw a horse drawn carriage and donkey cart passing by. In the village, it is just as common to see people riding in carts pulled by donkeys or horses as it is to see cars.
Along the street, everyone was out walking. An old Kyrgyz man with his kalpack (traditional Kyrgyz felt hat), long white beard, and cane walked slowly past me. As I walked farther down the road, I saw some boys having fun digging in the dirt with their hands while some small boys with
handmade bows across their shoulders were trying to climb trees. Their older sister watched over them. As I approached, they immediately knew I was a foreigner. Peace Corps volunteers often work in the village, and the locals are good at figuring out who they are. It’s not too difficult because just about no Russians ever go to the village. My skin color makes me stand out. The kids all said hello, pleased that they could use their English with me. When they saw that I had a camera, they became really excited and wanted me to take their pictures.
After spending some time talking with them and taking their pictures, I continued my walk with their sister. She was anxious to use her English with me and to learn about America. As we walked and talked, we passed by many homes where the women had put their shyrdaks (traditional felt rugs) out on their fences to dry. Shyrdaks are the most beautiful rugs I have ever seen, with the most unique designs. I took pictures of some of the ones I saw on the way.
Eventually, we came to the village mosque. It was closed during the Soviet era, and
is now being renovated. It is a beautiful building, with white siding and silver domes with crescent moons. They say that the building will open in April after about 100 years of being closed.
As I spend more time in Kyrgyzstan, I learn more and more about the Kyrgyz culture. It is so different from American culture, so I am constantly learning about new traditions. I’m starting to become accustomed to acting Kyrgyz. For instance, when someone calls saying that they are passing by and want to stop by my house in ten minutes, I start the tea pot boiling and put out some snacks. In Kyrgyz culture, you should always offer guests tea to show respect. Also, everyone who comes to your house, even if they are just there to fix something, must eat something at your house. Even if you have nothing but salt, they must eat at least a grain of salt. It is considered to be highly improper for anyone to enter your house and eat nothing. For instance, last night, Rahat and I stopped by his uncle’s home to pick them up to bring them to a party at Rahat’s sisters house. We were only there for a little bit, and since we were going to be eating tons of food soon, they gave us a pinch of bread each (about the size of the bread you would eat at communion).
Last week, I was sending in an application for a job. On the application, it asked me to check whether I am African American, Asian, White, Native American, or Mixed Race. Without thinking, I checked mixed race. I guess I really am starting to feel part Kyrgyz. While I’m here, I’m acting within a totally different culture, and am starting to think like the Kyrgyz.
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Jen
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Genna, thanks so much for posting these entries; I really enjoy reading them! I hope you're doing well, although it sounds like you are!