Men in Hats

Brief and full of media, a new post is thrown hastily onto the inter-web!

Kazakhstan offers an awful lot to enjoy—it’s truly a destination that not many think of visiting, but most definitely should—and this week proved that point effectively. It’s not always the buildings or the museums that drive a person to visit a different country, and its not always the sunny beaches or great local cuisine either. Sometimes, it’s the people that are worth getting to know. The overwhelming goodness of the Kazakh people comes out in their celebrations and importance they place on their families. I was fortunate enough to be invited to two separate celebrations this week; one graduation party and one wedding party. Both showcased great toasts (“May your love be as vast as the ocean”, while eating at a restaurant called, “The Ocean.”) and family members from all generations (Soviet ornament-adorned grandfathers and kids that were so young and oblivious that they wrestled during the wedding prayer). With all the dancing and food, it was hard not to have fun, and I did my family proud by showcasing my amazing ability to do the Charleston when the music proved appropriate. The rug was cut mightily with the dance moves. There was also an old-fashioned Russian style dance-off with leg kicks and all. The American did not come out victorious, unfortunately.

To savior the recreational times like this that show a country’s and people’s true magnetism—it makes this life a pleasure.

And now for the media!

Photo(s) of the Week

A tie between my definition of Kazakhstan—the kindness of its people and horsemeat sausage.

Taken a few weeks back, this is the scene from our final day at summer camp were the kids bequeathed me and another volunteer with homemade gifts. Fellow Kaz-18, though EDU volunteer Adam Henricksen and I enjoying our scrapbooks. Note the wise Kazakh-man hats.

I awoke from a beautiful dream to find this on my kitchen table.

There is the hope that this is only the intestine stuffed with meat.

Godspeed everyone, I'm off to Almaty.

Summer camp!

Salutations.




This past week, me and fellow volunteer Adam Henricksen enjoyed the task of heading a summer language camp for some Pavlodarian youth at the local university, иНеу. With campers ages ranging from 12-24, there were a multitude of approaches we could take with teaching them about American life and having a good time.

We went with the "teach what we think is cool" approach and ended up having the following schedule for the week:

Monday: Lesson on American Idioms
Lesson on American Colonialization
Lesson on Benjamin Franklin
Singing "Ooo, Baby I Love Your Way" by Frampton and "Together" by the Youngbloods
Jeopardy!
Drawing and Artwork

Tuesday: Lesson on American Slang
Lesson on Handshakes/Greetings
Lesson on Rock & Roll
Lesson on Joan Baez
Singing "Hold Your Hand" and "Eight Days a Week" by the Beatles
Jeopardy!
Bracelet making

Wednesday: Lesson on American Idioms
Lesson on the History of Pirates
Lesson on Making Chili
Lesson on Edward "Black Beard" Teach/Thatch
Singing "A Pirate's Life for Me"
Jeopardy!
Baseball and Frisbee!

Thursday: Lesson on American Idioms
Lesson on Hershey's Chocolate
Lesson on American Movies
Lesson on Sydney Poitier
Jeopardy!
Tie-dye t-shirts

Friday: Lesson on American Idioms
Lesson on The Simpsons
Guest speaker from America (Volunteer Nicholas Garrett Pappas' mother, Lelia)
Jeopardy!
Boat ride on the Irytish river

Saturday: Lesson on American Idioms
Lesson on American Slang
Movie: Chicken Little
Talent Show
Food party
Presentation of gifts and slideshow of week

Basically, it was amazing. The difficulty of planning and executing such activities was strenuous at times and easy at others, but the campers made it amazing. For the final day, Adam and me were seated in the middle of our classroom and every student presented us with a personally-made gift. The gifts ranged from watercolor paintings of flowers and fruits to teaching us Russian songs to begifting us a scrapbook with everyone's history and interests.

In short, it was awesome.

Guitar progress is occuring.
Summer is hot.
Apartment is clean.
NGO is up in the air due to health reasons of co-workers--worrisome.
Pappas' birthday today and his mom is visiting--more than enjoyable. Кайф, baby.

This installment's Photo of the Week!

Yeah well, your mom lives in Kazakhstan.

3:30 AM whilst camping near the Irytish.

With a renewed vigor for purpose, friendship, peace and love, a blog post is gurgled onto the inter-web once more from this glorious nation…


To recap the happenings:

From May 16th-June 12th, I enjoyed the most splendid of vacations in the United States of America. “But Andrew”, you kindly inquire, “how can one have such a wonderful time away from their work when all they really did was go to their home?” Great question, inter-web browser. It was so marvelous when consideration is given to the enormity and grandeur of my friends, family and most beloved one. The three-week vacation was an amalgamation of seeing old friends and learning about their new jobs or lack thereof, an ignorance of technological advances (I-Phone? Headache. Nintendo Wii? Ruptured spleen.), family visits around the eastern seaboard, lifestyle changes, beer and one hell of a girlfriend. Recipe for perfection. Try it for yourself one day if you can— you’ll see its rewarding and impossible to complete—to at least force yourself to fit in as many people that are important in your life within a small time period to catch up and say, “hey, we’re friends and that’s all right.”

So America was cool.

Additionally, it’s really fat. Pennsylvania should have cellulosed with cottage cheese ripples by now.

I YAmerica!

N your calorie intake, America.

A return to Kazakhstan:

One of my fellow volunteers and good friends has moved into my city of Pavlodar to act as a teacher of the English language at a local university. This increases Pavlodar’s coolness level by 50 percent.

A change of scenery was needed, though not due to roommate problems whatsoever, and a new apartment has been procured. The aforementioned roommate, the awesome Baurzahn Ablyavich is still in the top five coolest people in the world’s history. The bird needs to fly from the nest sometimes, even if it is one consistently filled with deliciously prepared egg and cabbage breakfasts.

Additionally, my first SPA (Small Project Assistance) grant was approved recently. The funds will be used to purchase technological equipment for computer skills training sessions and for a HIV/AIDS support hotline. Hooray for community development.


And so we start a new segment for this, promising as best I can, weekly posting: Photo of the Week. The winner this week goes to the empty chili pot of achievement in cultural exchange. Yes, when people of various backgrounds get together in a 95° F room and eat spicy chili, you have a recipe for greatness. Throw in a few toasty rips of the ‘little water’ and you really have a good time. And thanks for stopping by, Pavlodar.

This week's winner: An empty chili pot, housed.

Writing Contest: Write one sentence that depicts a birthday better than this one.

My 23rd birthday was spent in its entirety in a coupee on a train racing from Pavlodar to Almaty that was filled with four people; one Andrew, one man that drank two bottles of vodka by himself, pulled his pants down, resoundly pulled them back up, pissed himself and of course two prostitutes with very gentle eyes.

I ate that.

When it comes to new experiences, I'm generally all for it. I was ready and willing when I was asked to ride my bike off that ramp in the backyard when I was 9, I was ready when I was dared to eat dirt to get a girl's attention and affection, I was ready to eat the broccoli when my mom told me to, and I was ready to see how cool it would be to see my brother's karate kick up close, but I was not ready to eat this after my roommate (The amazing psychology professor Baurzahn Ablyavich) took roughly three minutes of description to tell me where this meat came from:


The kasha-type side dish wasn't really up to my tastes either. Am I picky?

In general, let it be known, that I love the food here, especially since Baurzahn is the one that prepares it. It's all natural, all the time, baby.


It was some kind of meat from a breast of some kind of animal.

Of note: I was 19 when I ate the dirt for the girl, and I'd do it again.

Springtime is near

What, me worry?

Springtime is coming on strong here in lovely Pavlodar. The temperatures are already running around 10-19 degrees Celcius. I don't know what I'm going to do, as my clothes are prepared for winter weather more so than this good stuff. Item A on the to-do-list when I visit the States.

I thought that I'd share some photos that are a little old, but bespeak to the beauty that is this country:

The rolling river Irytish in my home of Pavlodar. It froze over during the winter, but I plan on enjoying some shashleek (kabobs) and swimming in the near future along its mighty banks.

Here is a man playing an accordion, wearing a traditional Kazakh hat. I'm going to have a complex with how much I love this music here.

This was taken back in September, but there are the mountains in southern Kazakhstan, taking from a hike with my host grandfather while in Talgar. There aren't mountains near Pavlodar, but there are some forests around here that I'm excited to check out.

There is a lot more beauty to this country, my city of Pavlodar and its people, and I'll do my best to showcase it as best I can.

"The contents of this Web site are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. Government or the Peace Corps."

Ticket and Kids' Birthdays

I've been a traveling Wilderbury the past few weeks, as I've been in Almaty for nearly 2/3 of the month of March and the first part of April. I had the opportunity to meet with UNAIDS, UNIFEM, UNICEF, USAID, the International Red Cross and the European Union offices in Almaty. Not sure what will come of it, but I sure did give out a lot of business cards.

But because of being away with more English speakers and something like laziness, my Russian has suffered drastically. I don't even know if I can attach any form of possession to the language itself anymore. It hit a low point when I told my roommate that I had bought a guitar but "didn't know how to speak guitar yet." Jesus.

Yesterday, after a day of filling out extremely interesting budgets and grant applications with stamps and signatures galore, my professor roomate kidnapped me to head to a birthday party for his 5 year-old nephew. We enjoyed the customary Kazakh dish, bizparmak which is a huge dish of noodles, potatoes, onions and horse meat. The fun/meat never stops.

By the end, after countless toasts and handshakes and laughs and questions and such, we headed back home. One of the brothers asked me to head to the disco tech with him and his girlfriend, but I felt it was time to head out. With that, the whole family gave me a big hug and said that I was now part their family. Nice little moment there--take note Disney.

Additionally, my plan is to take a vacation to America's United States in mid-May. The ticket is already purchased. Hoping I don't get freaked out by all of America's strange, strange customs (see actually waiting in line in a civil manner). We'll see how it goes.

I also bought a wonderful conversation piece, I mean, guitar. I have time and a guitar, so the equation should solve itself.

Godspeed to the rest.