Things I Learned in College

College life…sigh. Oh the fun and careless bliss of being a student. Looking back it is hard to remember the constant stress and worries associated with the midterm that I forgot to studied for or what major I was going to choose, and near the end what I was going to do after graduation. Life threw in some curve balls when it came to what I wanted to do and what I had to do in college, but when all was said and done, my college experiences have in many ways prepared me for life in Turkmenistan.

            Fall of my junior year I was busy at work checking off all the perquisite classes for my major. Anatomy and Physiology topped the list. My heart goes out to anyone who has every taken a college level A and P class, not because it was a horrible experience but because for 11 weeks you breath, eat, and sleep A and P. During this time there is no such thing as a social life that does not revolve around drunken discussions of how the body utilizes ATP. This class consisted of many hours spent in lecture, lab and study groups, which is equal to many hours spent sitting and listening for words to start making sense. Hey that’s what I do now! I sit, study, and listen. On good days things make sense and on bad days I look forward to when they will. Unfortunately this is not an 11 week class but all the same thank you Janice Lapanski for helping me to realize the endurance of my booty, mind, and social life.

            College was not all about work and studying. I learned a lot outside the classroom as well. I didn’t know it at the time but between rock concerts with my cousin and The Up and Up at Halloween, I gained all the knowledge I would ever need to successfully master the public transit system in Turkmenistan. Buses here are packed tighter than sardine cans and at times do not smell much better. I have found two strategies that work best when traveling on the bus. #1 Be like Jell-O. It works well to mold to your surroundings. Giving some leeway but not to much. While this is the more polite of the two strategies it is also most likely to fail because why you are being Jell-O everyone else is solid iron molds. Which brings me to #2 Be the mold. Hold your ground and force others to mold around you. At first this didn’t make much logical sense to me because if everyone where to work together I am sure we could all ride relatively comfortable. That was until I found myself as Jell-O, practically straddling the elderly women sitting down facing me while desperately wrapping my limbs around the closest pole so that I wouldn’t be propelled into her lap every time the bus jerked to a stop. No, not good in my book. I try to stick to being the mold nowadays. Being young and nimble I fair better than many of the dayzas (dayza: an older women who is highly respected due to her age and place within the family) who must do the same acrobatic act as I on the bus but with a body 50 years older. What they lack in youth they make up for in determination. This last week as I waited for my bus in front of the Bazaar there was a little old lady who was last to step on the #11 bus which was busting at the seems. All seemed to be fine until the driver proceeded to close the doors. The woman’s body was repeatedly crunched between the doors before another woman of equal age came and trusted the first woman into the bus by throwing her weight towards her booty. If you can imagine stuffing your suitcase to the point that you need both you and a helper to sit upon it and zip it up, that was the equivalent of this experience but with a bus and a human.    

            When first arriving to Ashgabat it is easy to forget that Turkmenistan is essentially a giant desert. Fountains are as numerous as Starbucks in Seattle. Despite the appearance of abundant water resources, conservation is a concern for the country. Nearly all homes and businesses have squat toilets, are assigned water days, and rely on stored water kept in plastic water bottles for when the water is randomly shut off. Many health clinics don’t even have reliable running water. Lucky for me in my senior year of college I lived with 5 girls…wonderful girls. With one water heater and 6 people you learn the need for speed. The faster you are the more hot water is left over or in my current situation the more water in general. Showering as one of my most loved hobbies (if you can call it a hobby, I just absolutely love being in water), I like to limit the time I spend in each individual shower and take more showers instead. So far no complaints with this arrangement, none I can understand at least.    

            These are not the only similarities I have found. The effects of Turkmen food on the G.I. track is similar to that of camp food, it is bound to give you a stomach ache four out of seven days a week. Shopping at the bazaar is like shopping at Christmas, only Christmas is every Sunday. And the most important similarity…Life goes on, so smile more.

From Turkmenistan with lots of sÖýgi,

Steph

Cultural Mishap of the Week

While watching Russian television I found out my hairspray, which I have been using for the last two months for toy’s and such, is actually deodorant. Great. 

The honeymoon is over and the ring is still on the finger.

I was told “You must sit and learn Turkmen.” Great! As if I hadn’t just spent the last 11 weeks in a chair learning Turkmen for hours everyday. Let me not be to pessimistic here. I am now at my permanent site so I have had a change of scenery for when I sit but…now I have no chair.

-Written in a moment of frustration

My awe at being in a country most people have no knowledge about yet alone have any intention of going to has slowly turned into countless questions of “Why” or as the Turkmen say “Name Ucin”. Very few of these questions are actually answered and if they are it usually includes the phrase “cultural differences”. I have develop a Charlie Brown syndrome, where when I hear this phrase it takes the form of “wha wha wha” and invokes the same emotions as “because I said so” did when I was 12. This is what I wanted though…right? To experience a culture from the inside out, to get passed the marble facade concocted to coax money from pocked to register. While I am not a tourist here, I am not a host country national and as long as that is true I will have to be content with “cultural differences”.  

            Let me not get too far ahead of myself. The angst that is currently my most dominant emotion was not always at the forefront. Turkmenistan and I went through the honeymoon phase for the first 11 weeks before being abruptly brought to what will be my reality for the next two years. These weeks were filled with cultural field trips, toys (parties), and countless hours studying Turkmen language (the last of these was more like the dark clouds that continually threaten to ruin a perfectly good day).

The Turkmen language in general is not difficult to learn. It has no irregularities or exceptions to the rules. Of course for me, someone with absolutely no natural talent for learning a second language, it is nothing but difficult. Lucky for me there is plenty of comical relief within the language. For example…

1. Biz dusdik (Biz dush-dick): We showered.
2. Bitc (Bitch): Cut the fabric.
3. Hor (Hoar): Thin
4. Yoredik (Your-a-dick): Let’s go.

Got to love this language.

While I was busy filling my head with Turkmen words I was busy filling my belly with traditional Turkmen nahar. If you were to recreate the food pyramid Turkmen style the base would be cookies and chi followed closely by corek: the top consisting of vegetables, meat, and fruit. In fact it is not so much a pyramid. With all this sugar and fat how is it possible to maintain a healthy weight? Two words…digestive perseverance. Everything that goes in must come out. Those who have traveled abroad already understand. For those who have not I am going to let your imagination fill in the blanks.

The people that I have met here have made this experience worth the wait. The host country nationals are warm and inviting. They have a hospitality that few people in America possess. Theses relationships are great but it is the relationships forming with the other volunteers that have sustained me thus far. There are 34 total Peace Corps Volunteers (PCV) in Turkmenistan, only about a third of what most countries have, and guess what? They all speak English! I have found that even the little time I spend with them refreshes my spirit and helps me to put my experiences into perspective. So while the honeymoon died weeks ago for Turkmenistan and I, its holding strong when it comes to my 34 new friends which you will hear tons more about very soon.  

From a land far far away,

Steph

P.S. To all my friends and family at home I miss you and am thankful for all the support and words of encouragement I have received.