the past week...

Wednesday, 9 September 2008, 8pm in TARAZ:

I just finished my first evening of teaching, and I feel maybe like I was made for this… It was incredible! My students are mostly 14-17 years old, and preparing either to enter University or to take the TOEFL exam in order to study in Western Europe or the US. They’re precious and eager to learn, and I already find myself thinking about them and lifting them before the throne. Truly, TRULY, He is so good.

Thursday, 10 September 2009, 3am in TARAZ:

Yes, I realize it’s 3am. BUT, I just got back from a CRAZY night out in Taraz, so I thought I’d share…

One of my students, Nastya, invited me to her mom’s restaurant. Her Mom owns a Korean Karaoke Restaurant. I invited Carolina and another teacher from Interlingua, Leila. Nastya met us in front of our apartment at 8pm. Her Grandfather was with her, and he drove the 4 of us to the restaurant. It was a beautiful place, and we ate wonderful Korean and Kazakh food. THEN. Karaoke.

Alright, so it’s not like we don’t get stared at enough already, but when everyone in this place is singing Russian songs, and then, suddenly, it’s my turn, and I sing “Kokomo”, well, let’s just say, ALL EYES ON ME. Can I sing? No. Do I enjoy performing? No. Did this push me so far beyond my comfort zone that I didn’t really know what to do? Yes. Luckly, the Beach Boys are not long winded, and my turn ended quickly. As I finished, the people in the restaurant began yelling things like, “I love you, American!” and “I take you to Kokomo, American!” The next song I sang with my roommate, Carolina. She is Mexican, and I speak Spanish, so we sang “Besa Me.” If singing the Beach Boys didn’t grab all of the attention in the room, singing in Spanish did the trick! If only I had known how prophetic that song was going to be for me on that night, I would have chosen another.

Leila and Nastya sang a few more in Russian (which is CRAZY cool, by the way!) and then this singer who is well known in Taraz showed up—I gladly resigned the mic. He began singing, and he was incredible. Unfortunately, he chose all slow songs, all beautiful songs, all songs about love. And halfway through that first song, a hand comes down in my face, and a young and handsome Kazakh gentleman asks me to dance. Uh, seriously? There’s not a single other person in this restaurant dancing, and you really want me to stand up and dance with you? At the encouragement of my national friends, I stood and took his hand. The first thing he said to me while we danced was, “I love you, American.” Oh boy, this is going to be a LONG dance. Next he said, “I am Ramen, I live in Taraz.” I then tried to explain in my limited Russian that I, too, live in Taraz. The dance ended, he walked me to my seat, kissed my hand, told me he loved me, and walked away. Then, the drinks started arriving. Normally, at these places, people are drinking alcohol. We, however, were not. So, the waitress brought over 2 pitchers of orange juice, 2 unopened containers of apple juice, and 2 liters of Pepsi. “From the gentleman at the next table,” she told me. The next song began, and while the drinks sat unopened on our table, Ramen’s hand dropped in front of me again. Really, Ramen? We just danced. Nevertheless, I accepted and danced again. Again, he told me he loved me. The dance finished, he walked me to my seat, kissed me on the hand, and walked away. Then, the vodka arrived. We turned the waitress away, saying that we would absolutely not do shots. Ramen looked disappointed, however, his disappointment did not last long enough. Next song starts. Hand in front of my face. Jeez, Ramen, do you ever stop? Third dance. Third “I love you, American.” Third walk me back to my table. But this is where Ramen changed things up, and caught me by surprise. I was expecting a third kiss on the hand. Instead, he grabbed me hand, leaned in, and kissed me smack on the mouth! Oh no you DIDN’T! Not only was that completely inappropriate, Ramen, but in English, your name means a pack of dried noodles that I can buy for 10 cents at Meijer. The drinks were never poured. The vodka was never accepted. And that was Ramen’s last dance.

Friday, 11 September 2009, 9pm in TARAZ:

Happy 7^th Birthday to my sweet cousin, Wyatt Timothy, who instead of celebrating with presents and cake, celebrates in the presence of his Father, with a party that stretches down streets of gold and a smile that can never be erased. You are missed and loved, little one.

Monday, 14 September 2009, 8:40pm in TARAZ:

I LOVE MY JOB. Today, I did placement testing interviews on some of my new students. Some are more advanced than others. Here are a few of the answers they gave to my questions:

Al’ Farabi, why are you taking my class? “Because, wiz English better for me, I will hope and to find a good and precious job.”

Karlegash, tell me about your family. “My family consist of Mozer, Fazer, and miniature brozer.” (the “TH” is very difficult for native Russian and Kazakh speakers to pronounce, so they pronounce it with either a “z” or an “s”…)

Zhanna, tell me about your family. “My family consist of grandfazer, grandmozer, and seven humans.”

Me: If you could be famous doing one thing, what would it be?

Rauan: Oh, I am famous already in Taraz. I am a sinner.

Me: You’re a sinner?

Rauan: Oh, yes. I been sinner all my life. I am going to be sinning at a night club on Friday night. You will come watch?

Me: What exactly will you be doing there?

Rauan: I will be sinning with my band. I am famous here for my sinning.

Me: OH. You’re a singer?

Me: Hello! What is your name?

Nastia: I am fine, thank you.

Me: Oh. My name is Jillann. What is your name?

Nastia: I am Nastia.

Me: It’s nice to meet you, Nastia. How old are you?

Nastia: I am fine, thank you.

Me: I am 24 years old. How old are you?

Nastia: Why you are not married?

…and it only went downhill from there…

Tuesday, 15 September 2009, 7:50pm in TARAZ:

Based on the events of today, you’d think I stole Montezuma’s pesos and maracas and took them with me to Kazakhstan…his revenge is FIERCE.

Thursday, 17 September 2009, 5:50pm in TARAZ:

Today was a good day. I taught (loving it!), and then left school and talked to a few of my students who were still hanging around. I then walked to the supermarket, stopping to talk to a few people I recognized. Living here is like being the new kid in school…it’s like everyone knows who you are because you’re the new kid, and you look nothing like them. However, it takes an awfully long time for you to even recognize the faces of the people you walk past everyday. It’s been almost 3 weeks that I’ve lived here, and I’m starting to recognize some people! Now, I need to learn Russian.

At the supermarket, I get followed. Sometimes by security, making sure I’m not stealing, but mostly by random people who are interested in what Americans buy. You’d maybe think I was famous. I was standing in front of the milk, examining them all, trying to figure out which was from a cow, which had to be refrigerated, which was cream, which was yogurt, etc. I felt as if I was being watched…so I glanced over my shoulder, and at least 5 people were watching me. As I walked with my cart, everyone I passed looked in my cart. I really just makes me laugh.

I purchased my mayonnaise, milk, tomatoes, plums, and toilet paper, and checked out. I understood what the cashier said to me, and I paid in exact change. I feel like a local! This city is finally feeling like home. And I’m loving it.