Home!
Well, I’m finally getting around to writing the promised final thoughts about my service in Kyrgyzstan. I’ve been back at home for a couple of weeks now (after wandering around Turkey and Eastern Europe for about six weeks) doing such wonderfully ordinary things as shopping for clothes, going to the public library, watching football, mowing the lawn, and others that I never thought I would miss as much as I have. Adjusting has been a bit overwhelming at times, but my lack of work or other responsibilities means I can ease into it. Two days after arriving in the States I went to the liquor store, thinking I would buy myself a six-pack of delicious microbrew, but after ten or fifteen minutes of staring at the stacks of choices, I left bewildered and empty-handed. The clerk gave me a quizzical look and asked if I needed any help, so I must have I looked as dazed as I felt. I think this initial shock has worn off pretty quickly, though, as I have been able to buy a cell phone, clothes, and other items since.
So, what about Kyrgyzstan? One question I have heard often already is ‘would you do it again?’ I guess that depends what ‘it’ is. Would I return to my village for another two years? No. But, do I regret joining the Peace Corps and spending two years in Kyrgyzstan? Not one bit. I’m not sure I made much of a difference in my village, although I hope all my interaction with my students made some impression on them, but I learned enough about myself and the world to compensate for any doubts about the effectiveness of my actual work. I learned that I can persevere and even thrive in less-than desirable conditions, far from home, immersed in an alien culture, speaking a completely foreign language. Less than half of the people I left the States with in July 2006 completed their service. Others left for a variety of reasons, good and bad, but I’m proud to have finished the commitment I made to Peace Corps and to my village.
I think my relationship with my village, and especially with my host family, was the highlight and the most successful aspect of my service. My family not only opened their home to a foreigner for two years, but treated me like a son, helped me learn the Kyrgyz language (which I tested as ‘fluent’ in after the two years, thanks Apa!) and adapt to Kyrgyz culture, introduced me to the community, and always kept a watchful eye over me. I miss them terribly already; chatting for hours with my host mother over tea after dinner, my host father’s garrulous laugh and infectious sense of humor, and my host brothers’ mischievous antics. Hopefully it will be possible to keep in touch with them, although I think my language skills are already fading (although I called them the other day without too many problems, and they say ‘Salam!’ (Hello!) to all my friends and family). It was similar, if not as intimate, with the rest of my village. Some days it would be difficult to go to the store because I would be stopped to chat with students, their parents, neighbors, and friends on the street (sometimes even getting snagged to share a toast with some guys…never my favorite activity). My colleagues at school were always very friendly and helpful, and even my impression of my director improved over time (although this could be because her impression of me improved relative to the number of projects I completed at her school). This past summer I would spend most of my days down at the lakeshore, playing Frisbee or volleyball and hanging out with my host brothers and groups of my students. So, although I won’t be longing to teach another lesson at my school, I will miss my village, my family, and my friends. Maybe I will visit one day.
I’m afraid my opinions of Kyrgyzstan as a whole are not nearly as positive as those toward my own village (but isn’t that usually the case?). During my two years there, the government transformed a pluralistic, relatively effective democratic state into a one-party system dominated by a strongman of a president. Corruption and nepotism are rife while the country’s infrastructure crumbles. To me, most of the country’s ills can be traced to the culture of corruption and thuggery (I think I made that word up), which is not only tacitly allowed by the government, but seems to be expected from the citizenry. A couple points illustrate this: I had sixth grade students tell me not to provide anything nice for my school because it would only be taken by my director for personal use after I left; even they knew. My host mother, who is a physics teacher, was told by the regional government (which controls the schools) to vote for the ruling party or not bother returning to work (and the polling place was in the school). My village is afraid to dismiss the director at my school, despite the fact that she regularly takes school funds and supplies and everyone knows, because she has a relative in the Ministry of Education who is a prominent member of the ruling party. At times there aren’t even efforts to conceal obvious graft. Public-works projects remain under-funded or unfinished while government officials drive new flashy new Mercedes.
What is the solution, then? I believe it begins with education. The schools are the only semblance of civil society left in many villages, and they obviously play a huge role in shaping the ideas and opinions of the new generation of Kyrgyz children. Unfortunately, as I have mentioned in regards to my own school, corruption is undermining the education system. Teachers, who make a dismal salary, are often bribed for grades while university professors often won’t submit any grade, good or bad, without some sort of kickback. Students are leaving school unprepared and untrained for any sort of career, let alone with an adequate understanding of the government and economics that rule their country and affect their lives.
Now, obviously there are many intelligent, motivated students; those students that make teaching feel worthwhile with their curiosity and ambition. I had many like this, but they were overwhelmingly female. Girls would complete their homework, participate in class, and attend clubs and office hours while their male counterparts were uninterested at best. Unfortunately, in a society that still practices bride-kidnapping, half of the talent-pool (the more ambitious half) is seen as inherently inferior and many girls will never fulfill their potential. Many boys, in the meantime, embrace macho-ism and ignorance. When volunteers were asked what they would miss least about Kyrgyzstan, the answer was overwhelmingly young Kyrgyz men, due to the numerous incidents of violence and harassment at their hands. Near the end of my service, one of my goals was to complete my time without being punched, which was a valid concern. I wouldn’t go outside after dark to avoid the groups of drunken men looking for trouble. The prevalence of cheap alcohol and the seemingly inherent belligerence of Kyrgyz men made for a dangerous combination.
Anyway, I rambled and ranted there for a bit, but I guess the conclusion I have reached after two weeks home is that I will miss my host family and my village, but little else in Kyrgyzstan. There are many good-hearted and hospitable people there, but they are often eclipsed by the ‘Wild West’ feeling of a seemingly lawless society prone to violence and destabilized by corruption. I really do wish I could be more optimistic, and I wish the best for Kyrgyzstan, but it seems to me that major shifts in the values and outlook of Kyrgyz society will have to occur before improvements will happen.
With that, it is great to be home. Hope to see you all soon, and check back as I may refine and expand my thoughts in time.
Zach
So, what about Kyrgyzstan? One question I have heard often already is ‘would you do it again?’ I guess that depends what ‘it’ is. Would I return to my village for another two years? No. But, do I regret joining the Peace Corps and spending two years in Kyrgyzstan? Not one bit. I’m not sure I made much of a difference in my village, although I hope all my interaction with my students made some impression on them, but I learned enough about myself and the world to compensate for any doubts about the effectiveness of my actual work. I learned that I can persevere and even thrive in less-than desirable conditions, far from home, immersed in an alien culture, speaking a completely foreign language. Less than half of the people I left the States with in July 2006 completed their service. Others left for a variety of reasons, good and bad, but I’m proud to have finished the commitment I made to Peace Corps and to my village.
I think my relationship with my village, and especially with my host family, was the highlight and the most successful aspect of my service. My family not only opened their home to a foreigner for two years, but treated me like a son, helped me learn the Kyrgyz language (which I tested as ‘fluent’ in after the two years, thanks Apa!) and adapt to Kyrgyz culture, introduced me to the community, and always kept a watchful eye over me. I miss them terribly already; chatting for hours with my host mother over tea after dinner, my host father’s garrulous laugh and infectious sense of humor, and my host brothers’ mischievous antics. Hopefully it will be possible to keep in touch with them, although I think my language skills are already fading (although I called them the other day without too many problems, and they say ‘Salam!’ (Hello!) to all my friends and family). It was similar, if not as intimate, with the rest of my village. Some days it would be difficult to go to the store because I would be stopped to chat with students, their parents, neighbors, and friends on the street (sometimes even getting snagged to share a toast with some guys…never my favorite activity). My colleagues at school were always very friendly and helpful, and even my impression of my director improved over time (although this could be because her impression of me improved relative to the number of projects I completed at her school). This past summer I would spend most of my days down at the lakeshore, playing Frisbee or volleyball and hanging out with my host brothers and groups of my students. So, although I won’t be longing to teach another lesson at my school, I will miss my village, my family, and my friends. Maybe I will visit one day.
I’m afraid my opinions of Kyrgyzstan as a whole are not nearly as positive as those toward my own village (but isn’t that usually the case?). During my two years there, the government transformed a pluralistic, relatively effective democratic state into a one-party system dominated by a strongman of a president. Corruption and nepotism are rife while the country’s infrastructure crumbles. To me, most of the country’s ills can be traced to the culture of corruption and thuggery (I think I made that word up), which is not only tacitly allowed by the government, but seems to be expected from the citizenry. A couple points illustrate this: I had sixth grade students tell me not to provide anything nice for my school because it would only be taken by my director for personal use after I left; even they knew. My host mother, who is a physics teacher, was told by the regional government (which controls the schools) to vote for the ruling party or not bother returning to work (and the polling place was in the school). My village is afraid to dismiss the director at my school, despite the fact that she regularly takes school funds and supplies and everyone knows, because she has a relative in the Ministry of Education who is a prominent member of the ruling party. At times there aren’t even efforts to conceal obvious graft. Public-works projects remain under-funded or unfinished while government officials drive new flashy new Mercedes.
What is the solution, then? I believe it begins with education. The schools are the only semblance of civil society left in many villages, and they obviously play a huge role in shaping the ideas and opinions of the new generation of Kyrgyz children. Unfortunately, as I have mentioned in regards to my own school, corruption is undermining the education system. Teachers, who make a dismal salary, are often bribed for grades while university professors often won’t submit any grade, good or bad, without some sort of kickback. Students are leaving school unprepared and untrained for any sort of career, let alone with an adequate understanding of the government and economics that rule their country and affect their lives.
Now, obviously there are many intelligent, motivated students; those students that make teaching feel worthwhile with their curiosity and ambition. I had many like this, but they were overwhelmingly female. Girls would complete their homework, participate in class, and attend clubs and office hours while their male counterparts were uninterested at best. Unfortunately, in a society that still practices bride-kidnapping, half of the talent-pool (the more ambitious half) is seen as inherently inferior and many girls will never fulfill their potential. Many boys, in the meantime, embrace macho-ism and ignorance. When volunteers were asked what they would miss least about Kyrgyzstan, the answer was overwhelmingly young Kyrgyz men, due to the numerous incidents of violence and harassment at their hands. Near the end of my service, one of my goals was to complete my time without being punched, which was a valid concern. I wouldn’t go outside after dark to avoid the groups of drunken men looking for trouble. The prevalence of cheap alcohol and the seemingly inherent belligerence of Kyrgyz men made for a dangerous combination.
Anyway, I rambled and ranted there for a bit, but I guess the conclusion I have reached after two weeks home is that I will miss my host family and my village, but little else in Kyrgyzstan. There are many good-hearted and hospitable people there, but they are often eclipsed by the ‘Wild West’ feeling of a seemingly lawless society prone to violence and destabilized by corruption. I really do wish I could be more optimistic, and I wish the best for Kyrgyzstan, but it seems to me that major shifts in the values and outlook of Kyrgyz society will have to occur before improvements will happen.
With that, it is great to be home. Hope to see you all soon, and check back as I may refine and expand my thoughts in time.
Zach
posted by Zach at 2:09 PM
0 comments
