Listen and Learn! Jennifer is here. Music is heard! I live, work and do more.

This does not represent the United States Peace Corps or the United States Government in any shape or fashion.

Let's talk about the weather because the rest is something entirely different.

-20 normally with a low of -35 so far. Also, there is snow.

My plant, Phosphorus, stoically stares out the window.

Had a productive meeting with a gym teacher and school director this past week, discussing plans for a basketball club and potential tournament between other schools in Pavlodar. This opportunity is really exciting, as I get to teach kids the fundamentals of basketball—there will be many practices on the Zen of boxing out—as well as get a little exercise in the process.

The school director mentioned that it would be a great chance to keep his students from sitting around, playing computer games and eventually turning to drinking or whathaveyou later on. I agree.

I must procure a photo of the school director, as his appearance conjures up thoughts of Humpty Dumpty, but with suspenders. Also he has a beard and wears flannel shirts, so perhaps he's more comparable to that of a rounded Al Borland. He is Legend.

Happy Old New Year.

ring a ding ding

The man seems too short and young to be the man. He’s also uninspired, but what can you say about agreeing to sing the same two songs in at least ten different cafes over the course one evening. It’s not the most fun way to spend your New Year’s, though very lucrative.

The man in question is Serik Musalinof. Supposedly. He is known across the great Republic of Kazakhstan for singing a little diddy that harmonizes all the main cities of this nation, and another song about Pavlodar. People all dance and sing along to his songs, but a fair amount also let out a groan whenever they hear it as well due to its unbridled pop nationalism. It is a relationship similar to New Jersey with its Bon Jovi.

We’re at a restaurant, BierXanna, to ring in the New Year. We, as per the end of 2007 definition, are Adam, Nick, Nick’s brother Chris (visiting from LA), Jeffrey (new cool volunteer) and me. The restaurant reservation is a lovely treat, compliments of Chris. It turned out to be the usual fanfare of greatness: food, conversation, dancing with Santa Claus, belly dancers, beverages and President Nursultan Nazarbayev giving a speech at the midnight hour. Follow up the mid-day wake-up with a banya steam session, and you have yourself a proper payment of respects to 2007 and a necessarily clean welcome to 2008.

2007 was spent, minus for three weeks in the US, twelve hours in Germany, six over Europe and ten or so over the Atlantic, completely in Kazakhstan. It brought me a fine amount of accomplishment (AIDS awareness project, summer camps, English and film clubs, tutoring, translations, children’s clubs, book donations, etc.), frustration (communication problems regardless of language barriers), sickness (lick those rubber suckers, put em’ on my nipples and strap me to a radiator to check my heart rate again, nurse), and health (running, swimming in the Irytish, basketball evenings, basketball club).

I started it living with my good friend, Baurzahn Ablyavich and I have ended it living in my own apartment, now going on seven months. I started with attempting to get a mouse out of my suitcase that stowed away in my bag from a train ride and ended with me having a pet rat that either has an unfortunately placed tumor or has extremely fertile carry-on luggage (it’s a male, and quite male at that).

Most importantly, it started with a growing sense of doubt over my decision to join Peace Corps and over exactly how I could be of assistance to people here, and ended with a growing sense of excitement for the opportunities available and the pressurizing time left to accomplish works of importance.

My main organization shows signs of regular professional improvement, from the implementation of project planning, weekly volunteer meetings, transparent financial oversight even for the smallest items, gaining confidence in working with international health groups and simply a confidence knowing that we have worked as a team.

My secondary projects show signs of progress in that I helped send sixteen students to the US last summer for work, tutored two that will pursue their undergraduate and graduate degrees overseas, assisted one with international business presentations for a conference in Afghanistan, aided students to finally ask me a question other than “how are you?” when they greet me and have a different response other than “fine.”, showed students a different side of America and the world through independent films, camps and concert performances (with the grand assistance of the perpetually active volcano that is fellow volunteer Adam Henricksen), and laying the groundwork for a youth basketball club.

Run-on sentences happen. A lot, in fact, happens.

I received an e-mail from a dear friend of mine this past week that covered the topic of young adulthood and the questions that linger within. What is the point of work? What comes next? Why is it is so hard to compartmentalize the graying aspects of life so they can actually be dealt with? Add a little side order of confusion over relationships and a longing for the joyful past, and you have a lost path that I think is all too frighteningly common.

Putting aside the fact that we are dear friends, and no one else can substitute for that kind of understanding, who am I to answer these questions? I’m a young adult with constant questions of what is the point of this work? and what’s next? except there lies a very obvious expiration date to find the answers here. But taken flatly in a context outside of friends’ understanding, the answers fail to materialize quickly. This past week, however, and the experiences of the past year that led up to it, made me confident in confronting these questions and others.

My old friend Baurzahn invited me over to his home before New Year’s and we reminisced about the silliness of last year; how we barely spoke any Russian, the awkward dinner visit in which he slyly fed me a complicated toast in ode to a particular woman’s beautiful eyes and figure (whom I had just met), and an assortment of other daily happenstances that hold a special place between us.

Nick’s brother provided a very fresh, very American perspective on Kazakhstan—particularly on the raw emotion that people show here so often. I found myself ashamed that I was taking these displays and people for granted, as if living here for sixteen months makes them less interesting. Routine can do that to many, but why was I already in a routine of hum-hum acceptance? Why at age 23 in Central Asia while speaking Russian while meeting kind, seed-selling street corner grandmas and politically pushy drunken uncles, and eager-minded students, and open-hearted social workers and squeeze-box playing musicians, and yoga-teaching sport enthusiasts with funny English, and working with a memorable-quote-per-minute boss, am I in a routine that makes me not notice how great it all is?

So I snap out of it. I take notice once again, and again and again.

There is no time to compartmentalize anymore. Block scheduling is over. The dewey decimal system is useless. I have stopped my search for the period. Life is a run-on sentence.

2008 is up and running.

Ice sculpture in city square.

Conversations shared, dishes prepared and languages butchered, much has occurred as of late. And its nearly the commencement of the Year of the Rat. I am quite proud to state that this is to be my year, one in which I will have the perspective of a completed year in Kazakhstan (2007) yet know that I will be spending the end of the next most likely in America (2008). Oh the places you'll go.

Myself and two presents: my new pet Rat (on shoulder) and a finely styled shirt most frequently worn by Russian sailors. What a Christmas bounty.

*My rat does not have a name yet, but it will most likely be something to recognize his Russian heritage. If you have any suggestions, they will be accepted and deliberated over with great consideration.


I've spent most of the holidays with some fellow volunteers, and for that much thanks can be had. Still, I do miss my family and friends, and I can only hope that everyone there and elsewhere could look at the ridiculous Christmas decorations and smile. At least I got to see a Soviet Lada driving around with a Manura on its roof.



I'll post a true retelling of events and ideas in the near future, so for now I will simply share a few insightful and/or comedic quotes accumulated over the course of the great existence of life in Kazakhstan.



"Sorry, but my cat pissed on my homework today."



"He's paying for it you say? Young man, do you know where people usually place free cheese?"



"Hopefully, this table of meat will last us five months."



"Why am I the stupid man? You're the one that is sitting here, paying me more money than you think you should. I'm getting paid either way."



"You should meet my daugther. She has a nice Chechan nose like you. Can you imagine the beautiful children?"



"If you eat this fat, you will have a beautiful wife. See my wife? Therefore, eat the fat."



и саммый главный...



"To the health of you and your family."

matt taibbi interview

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In Baseball Terms, Peace Corps is a Grounder to the Right Side to Advance the Runner.

BESEECH ME, AUTUMN!

A year ago to this day, Pavlodar city and I became friends for the first time. It was 0° C at that time—I did the John Mayer, sensitive and cool look (high-collared and zippered sweater with a tweed jacket on top) in order to stay warm. Today, I have a beard and Michelin man coat. I’m still here, and Darwin proves right again.

Furthermore, I have lapsed into the Siberian form of clean heroine addiction: thermals.

I’ve heard some people attempting to be clever say that they are, ‘naked under their clothes.’ This is not the most clever of remarks, but if we accept this statement, then I will not be naked for the next five months. The thermals, once put on, never want to be taken off. They become a part of you, giving you a warm feeling when all else seems so frozen on the outside. To go without them for even a day, the body ravages with the shakes, the mood becomes extremely aggravated and you just might die from withdrawal. They are my wintry drug. And its hold is just starting. I should come clean around March.

I ate that.
A few weeks back, I took a trip to the local village of Shareeshiganok once again, and photo captured some of the moments whilst riding a bicycle, eating lamb fat and galloping across the Virgin Lands steppe to wrangle sheep, horse and cow. There is now a new volunteer experiencing his first time at that village this week, of which will bring some victory and difficulty. Here’s to victory.



This past week also brought a pleasant turn for English language literary lovers. With the help of a wonderful friend and former student of mine, I have partnered with the Oblast City Library of Pavlodar to form an English and American literature and material room in their central building. The section will feature classic literature from British and American writers, a plethora of contemporary magazines from the States and books with a wide range of subject matter (Geography, Modern Art, Biology, Business, etc.), all available to the public for free. The first part of this on-going partnership was made possible through the generosity of the Darien Book Aid, individual donations from family and friends, and some books from my personal collection. You too can send books for donation to the city library via my post office address. You may personally inscribe the books if you choose, or ask me to do so upon arrival.

The address for any donated books, and my personal address for any cookies you wish to send is (please use both English and Russian variants):

Mr. Andrew Holets
Public Foundation “Challenge”
83 Krivenko Street, Apartment 122
Pavlodar, Kazakhstan 140008

Эндрю Холетс
ОФ “Challenge”
Ул. Кривенко 83, Кв. 122
Павлодар, Казахстан 140008

Also, for the first time since being six years old, I got to register for a library card. I’m hoping to check out a book just as amazing as that first, “A Light in the Attic.” “Лампочка на чердаке” doesn’t seem to have the same whimsical ring though…

An Open Letter to the Philadelphia Phillies:

First off, congratulations on your National League Eastern Division Championship—through the grandeur of overwhelming media coverage of every game and the overblown focus on the Mets’ collapse, every stitch on every pitch was seen in my mind. Romero’s golden left arm, Myers’ goatee of death, Howard’s endless strikeouts and home runs, Burrell’s resurgence, Rowand’s every play a tug at our heart strings and the future, Utley’s prevail, Iguchi’s quotes and little league fundamentals, Hamels’ chiropractor, and that lousy shortstop that used to pop everything up since 2001 finally become the Jimmy Rollins we knew he could be: Gorgeous Season. There was a little, very loud devil sitting on my shoulder that kept telling me to go home to attend the World Series. Thankfully, the angel won out, though only in the result of your playoff death.

I wish to ask you this: Could you please play like that again next season and the next so I can actually attend a playoff game?

Sincerely,

Andrew Russell Holets
Fan since age 9

p.s. Jim Eisenreich is my favorite player of all-time. We used to count his twitches when they'd zoom in during his at-bats. Amazing guy. You should get him to throw out a first pitch when I come back. Eisey!


Finally, I just want to come clean about how selfish we Peace Corps volunteers can be when given the right circumstances. This past week, a fellow volunteer downloaded the new Radiohead album without paying anything, and I asked him to actually put it on his flash drive so I did not even have to spend time on the internet for it, despite it being offered free of charge.

“Человек становится равным тому, чей язык и тскусство он знает.”
-Абай кунанбаев

“A man attains an equal level with anyone whose language and art he understands.”
-Abai Kunanbayev, Kazakh Poet and Philosopher

In honor of Al Gore's Nobel Prize, here is a photo of my lovely director hugging a tree.

A Series of Reviews

The Endless Steppe--the view for 87 percent of any train ride.

Kids getting covered in spider webs--the perils of drug use! Listen, children!

A new month, a new set of ideas and the continuous attempt to find some sort of rational as to why I live in Kazakhstan.

1) To fulfill a mission of spreading friendship and understanding on behalf of the people of the United States of America, or “You’re A Good Man, Andrew Holets!”

Maybe during the summertime, but that sun is going down earlier and earlier and it’s high time I finally wash those thermals from last March. With the sunshine comes happier people, whether that be because of the life flowing from the earth and environment or it the increased opportunity for people to drink longer publicly on the streets, I don’t know. Either way, autumn will barely have time to check in before winter consumes all. Friendship proves more difficult when everyone is concerned with warming their extremities.

2) To increase the skills and capacities of my primary organization and co-workers.

Yes! I’ve been blessed with a potential-laden counterpart, and that’s a good enough target for anyone. This may be one of those overlooked aspects of Peace Corps service, but I believe that this experience has made me hone the ability to identify who you can cooperate with, who has talent, who has the drive and give you the mentality that you can help or change that person. And I thought that mentality was left only to teachers and fathers that sire sons with an early pension for the color pink. They all see the individual development and want to steer them in a desired direction, perceived to be the best. I think I’m getting there (“Is this merely good-intentioned imperialism, sir? Uh…I hope not.”). Yes, that’s a good reason to do this.

3) On a daily basis, Kazakhstan is a nation that delivers entertaining circumstances and people.

True. Whether it our office’s pet rat that scours our garbage can, Кристов Крыса, or the women in ludicrous high heels or the late-night descents into vodka and loud, blabbering, endearingly revealing toasts or the gold-toothed smiles or the grilled meat on a skewer or the hospitality of its people or the total lack of bullshit, Kazakhstan gives me one praiseworthy story a day, an hour.

Jam sessions with fellow Platzkart train travellers--bonus of train travel

4) I have one year, two months and ten days until my contract is up: why stop now?

The Phillies made the playoffs, an intelligent and beautiful girlfriend back home, a job that pays a salary, my family, basic living comforts, an ability to truly communicate with everybody, familiarity, friends, being a tangible part of peoples’ lives, the Phillies made the playoffs, good music, two-ply, Phillies games, family, family, friends, Phillies, concerts, conversations over coffee, girlfriend, hugs, driving a car, weekends, Christmas, sandwiches, ‘thank you for shopping at…’, oh God sandwiches.


Wait! The political process in America and the possibility of a Thompson/Romney/Clinton presidency! That deters me just enough!*

I’ll stay in Kazakhstan a bit longer with the hope that my girlfriend comes to Kazakhstan. And stay up until 4 AM and listen to mlb.com radio every playoff game. And contact friends and family through e-mail and skype (andrew.holets). And hope, with the hope of every word in the holy bible, that people I care about are always safe. Money is of no use. Oh, and I’ll try to make sandwiches with horse meat here.

5) There are not many other better options.

I live in a nice apartment on the top floor. I speak a second language almost every word of my day. My job, in its essence, is to help people. I sleep easy without an ounce of selfish toss and turn. Idealism is not dead. I can say one sentence the rest of my life to shut up people that doubt my cold-weather fortitude: “I wintered in Siberia…twice.” This is a test—sitting in an office is not. I have an increasingly real reason to have children and teach them of the world. I am growing a beard to raise money for an HIV/AIDS and Healthy Living Awareness event. That, by itself, is awesome. I owe this to everyone, for me, for others.

6) It is only two years.

Yes, it is only two years. Stop making it seem like the hardest thing in the world—it’s not. It will be over, and you better do your best. You’re not a good person because of it, you’re only good if you do good. Keep doing good. It’s only two years. Two years of Peace Corps, not Marine or anything else that taxes the body more so. It is only two years.

7) You’re actually doing something you said you wanted to do.

Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Cool.


That covers my short list of why I’m here. There are many more; more added and taken away each day. But the Phillies! Arrgggh!

Recent Events:

-My boss has finally returned to work.
-Our organization traveled to Shymkent and made some good contacts with USAID and others regarding the terrible HIV/AIDS situation in Southern Kazakhstan. The trip must be given credit to fellow PC volunteer, Mika Yasuo, a most industrious young woman.
-Most of my students have returned from their trips to the States. I’ve received two pens from Florida and Virginia, respectively, as gifts. The pride could not be higher for them.
-Film Club is booming, with over 25 attendees last week. I’m attempting to secure a local theatre for a real cinematic experience.
-Two packages received from Deborah Holets regarding supplies for the Shareeshiganok Children’s Club (see previous journal entry). She sent paper, crayons, glue, pencils, craft supplies and coloring books.
-Started teaching English at a furious rate.
-Stopped shaving for the next month in order to raise money from local sponsors for an HIV/AIDS and Healthy Living Awareness Day. If you would like to sponsor this project or simply receive daily photographic updates of the beard/fundraising event, please e-mail andrewholets@gmail.com.

If you would like to send something to the Shareeshiganok Children’s Club, you may send it to this address:

Andrew Holets
Public Foundation, “Challenge”
83 Krivenko Street, Apartment 122
Pavlodar, Kazakhstan 140008

Эндрю Холитс
ОФ “Challenge”
Ул. Кривенко 83, Кв. 122
Павлодар, Казахстан 140008

(Craft supplies, children’s activity books and anything fun for kids of all ages are greatly appreciated.)

If you wish to send stuff/letters specifically to me, that address works just the same (smile face!).

*An open letter to America,

If I have to return to America on November 13th, 2008 and find that the president-elect is Fred Thompson or Mitt Romney or Rudy Giuliani or Hilary Clinton, this man will live in either a different country or at least a remote area of America that is unaffected in as many aspects as possible by the executive branch.

And finally...

I listened to the Phillies game on mlb.com. My neighbhors will nary forget the crazy American shouting, "whooooohooooo's" at 3:34 AM for the rest of their lives. I gave out ten high-fives today to locals.

Also...

this web journal is the representation of my opinion solely and has no connection to the ideas, ideals or opinions to the United States Peace Corps organization.