Bishkek - Day 3

Okay... I'm sorry for slacking on getting a new post ready after replacing my computer... things have been incredibly rough for me since that happened, for various reasons... when it rains it pours, right? Anyway, there was a lot more data on my stolen computer that hadn't been backed up than I thought... including Bishkek Day 4, a lot of my edited photos, and all of my audio files which contained so many important and nostalgic sounds I wanted to share with you, to help you really get a glimpse of this crazy life I've been living. Regrets. I have them. But, that leads to more lessons I can pass on to you so you hopefully won't suffer through the same losses and frustration that I have had to deal with on these adventures. Always lock your shit up. Always. So, here's my last stream of consciousness post for my time in Bishkek...

Bishkek Day 3: June 23, 2015

Here goes showing y’all how much of an emotional roller coaster something like this is. Today wasn’t bad at all. Today was, dare I say, comfortable-ish? Now I just have to keep from crying myself to sleep tonight, and I’ll be progressing a lot faster than I thought I would have a few days ago. At least y’all are benefiting from my lack of internet at home, because I’ve been spending a good hour or two at the end of the night to recap the day for you. Or maybe you don’t like the longer posts and wish I’d just cut to the interesting stuff, well tuff. That’s another thing about living so far away from the city, I can’t stay out with my friends until 11pm every night, get distracted by a certain someone and then pass out before taking the time to write. The longer I go without internet and have limited opportunity to connect with anyone, the more I start thinking that maybe what I really need is to persevere and grow on my own, like I do with everything else. I just wish I had remembered to download new music before I left… there are way too many songs on my computer that stir up stupid emotions in my tiny broken Slavic heart. Yea, I know last year I was writing about a broken heart too, and just like that one, there are a lot of factors contributing to it. I don’t know how you people do this crap. I’ll adjust to Bishkek and eventually start liking it here a whole lot faster than I can get over being so stupid as to open this tiny Slavic heart to someone who never deserved it. In Russian – моё сердце разбыто – quite literally, shattered. Yeah, we don’t do subtle in this language. Он разбыл моё сердце и я ненавижу его из-за этого...

So… back to the comfortable-ish… well… thank God my neighbor has taken me on like a niece, because I didn’t pay attention to what today’s schedule was supposed to be, and I was prepared to get to school at 9am… classes start at 8:30am this year… oops… good thing Racha, the girl placed next door, pays attention and told her host family the proper time, so needless to say, I hauled ass out of the house without eating breakfast, putting on makeup, or even brushing my hair. My neighbor drove us to school this morning, which was really nice of him to do. I was placed in the 4^th year course, as expected, and I really like my classmates so far. We’re having a good time in class, and getting to know each other too. We’ve got two 50min grammar classes followed by a 65min reading class (really thinking that teacher doesn’t like me & Masha though), and then finally a 50min speaking portion, which was surprisingly fun. At 1pm we were free to go for the day.

Delicious eggplant salad... I can hardly believe I used to hate it!

Masha and I clarified what our schedule would be for Wednesday, and asked about the password to the website for our homework, then headed down the street to the Vefa center for lunch (It’s a small mall). The password wasn’t sent out yet as of 8pm, not that it would matter for me, since I still don’t have wifi at home… this will be my number 1 complaint about the program this year. If you’re going to have online homework, you need to make sure that host families are equipped with wifi, especially when we live so far away from the city. I can’t stay at school or at a local café until 8pm just to do homework if there’s a lot. I actually don’t have to be at school until 2pm tomorrow, but I’m gonna get there at 9:30am so I can do the homework that’s due Thursday, or at least get it started. I also plan to buy a wifi router tomorrow as well. Yep… that’s about a $100 expense that I wasn’t expecting. I know my host family is fine with me using their computer, but I don’t want to hog it, when that’s the primary source of entertainment for the kids in the evening and when it’s raining, like it was today.

We drink beer from crazy straws, because we're ladies.

Aaaanyway… For lunch we tried eggplant salad because it reminded me of one of my favorite Georgian dishes when I looked at the picture, and Lagmancun because that looked good too. We split those and ordered 2 beers… guess how much it cost? Go on, guess… I’ll wait…

About $7.40… our fancy coffees afterwards cost about the same too.

So, around 4:30ish, I headed back to the school to see if Racha was ready to head home, because she said her host dad would pick us up from school. Minor miscommunication, and my host mom (or well I feel like I should start calling her my hostess, because she’s actually closer in age to me than any of my actual sisters are) came to get us. She took us to look into the whole router situation and help us decide what we need, but turns out they need the original of my passport for it. She put our address in my phone in case I ever need to take a taxi, and tried to teach me what stop is ours on the Marshrutka. (It’s the name of the school that’s nearby, or apparently I can just say остановите в школу and that should work too. Guess I’ll find out tomorrow!) Then I just tried to study some of the new vocab before dinner.

Lagmancun... yes it's Turkish and not Kyrgyz... who cares?

Tonight dinner was reminiscent of some of the food I had in Georgia, simple pan fried potatoes with meat, sliced tomatoes, bread and of course tea (like 3 bowls). I’ve been a bit intimidated by the bread, because we were told that it’s pretty much sacred around here, so if you start eating a piece, you should really finish it, and if you waste it, it’s an insult. Also, it turns out that Mash also has a traditional Kyrgyz family, they just haven’t started cooking and eating in the outdoor area yet. She called me today to tell me that they tried to get her to drink some mare’s milk, but she couldn’t do it because of the smell lol… I’m sure y’all can’t wait until I start writing about that! It’s already getting easier for me to hold conversations in Russian, and my hostess and I are doing some more bonding too. We’ve made plans to take a walk around the neighborhood tomorrow after dinner.

The cultural aspect of the importance of family around here has already been brought up. That was important in Georgia too. Week 1, my host mom exclaimed that I was so old to not be married, which made me feel kinda terrible, but by the end of the program, she was offering to take me on walks down the Boulevard to find me a man, because OBVIOUSLY American men are idiots. Little by little my family and neighbors have pried into what my family life is like. 1^st night was asking how many siblings I have etc, last night they got to asking me if I was married or had a boyfriend, and tonight asking if it was normal to get married so late in America. I thought about making up a boyfriend, or trying to explain part of my broken heart to her, but instead chose to portray everything as normal, because it is normal for me. I don’t know why I don’t have a boyfriend, and I never thought I’d be my age and still be single, but that’s the hand I’ve been dealt, and in America it’s not completely terrible to have that hand either.

An array of Kyrgyz Som... believe me, it's not that much...

When it started to rain after dinner, we went inside and continued to chat and she asked me to teach her daughter a little English. I know I’m not supposed to, but I guess I really did enjoy teaching Russian… teaching English to some 8-9 year old Kyrgyz girls was quite a change for me… and maybe some good preparation/experience for the near future. I need to work on my vocabulary though if I want to explain things better. At least they just about had the alphabet down after an hour. I don’t like the book we were using though. I’ve noticed around here that people want to practice their English on you more than in Batumi. My host mom there rarely ever spoke in English, my sister who was fluent in English never spoke to me in it, my host brother tried to teach me Georgian (because I don’t think he spoke Russian) and my poor wee little sister rarely talked to me because she didn’t know a lot of English and even less Russian. Only once did I have someone who could speak Russian refuse to speak to me in Russian, and I am completely sympathetic as to why. He spoke to me in English, I spoke to him in Russian. Georgia has undergone its own cultural renaissance. I guess most former Soviet Republics have, but of the 2 I’ve spent an extended period of time in, Georgian patriotism/nationalism seems much stronger. They want to move towards the west, but are determined to keep their traditions and language, and that to an extent means keeping Russian around too. School children there learn English whether they go to Georgian school or Russian school. Maybe because you still have to go out of your way to learn English around here that people want to practice it more? I don’t mind all that much. I’m at a level where I don’t think it will make such a drastic difference to only be exposed to Russian. What I need is to work on including more Russian in conversations with my friends so I can have a good conversation about things that are more substantial than what I am used to talking about.

I’m thinking it’s time for me to pass out. I meant to be ready for bed by midnight so waking up at 7 wouldn’t suck… its almost 1, whoops… at least this means less time to be reminded of things before I fall asleep, and hopefully that will mean no crying tonight… that’ll be nice… 

End Day 3.

There was a much longer rant on language acquisition, but I decided to omit most of it to avoid boring the crap out of you, but there you go... the last of my stream of consciousness posts, because I'm an idiot... but here are some spoilers:

I didn't cry again my whole time in Bishkek. I persevered and grew on my own, as I always do, as I always will. I did adjust, and got comfortable in Bishkek before that broken heart healed. I have my closure now, and I can't believe I ever acted the way I did. I can't believe I ever let myself feel so hurt over something so stupid. Classes, and my classmates started to drive me crazy by the end of the 1st week, so much that I was ready to go home if something didn't change. Another thing about growing up - I learned to tell someone in charge that I wasn't satisfied with things, those things were changed, and I started enjoying class again, well except for the classmates driving me crazy part... the only thing that could remedy that would have been less time around them, which I could not get. I gave up trying to teach those adorable little girls because the book/English language just frustrated the crap out of me. Also, reading through this again, I realize I still haven't learned my lesson about opening my heart up to people who don't deserve it. I'm not so sure that's a bad thing either. Is it better to suffer the pain of heartbreak from putting yourself out on the line, or to keep yourself reserved and possibly miss out on something wonderful? Only time will tell.

Even If It Breaks Your Heart

I lied about not being able to break chronological order for my posts. Friday was too big to wait until I'm caught up. I've been working on it since then too, so be prepared, this is a long one...

Пятница была тяжёлый день, но также с радостью. Она была день победы, и почти каждый русский человек гуляли с тяжелым но счастливым сердце. Я тоже гуляла с тяжёлым сердце, но моё сердце разбито из-за немного веш.

Alright, I'll translate that for you. Friday was a heavy day, but also with joy. It was victory day and almost every Russian walked with a heavy, but joyful heart. I also walked with a heavy heart, but my heart is broken because of a few things.

Vibrant tulips provide a happy contrast to such a grim monument.

Victory Day is huge here. Bigger than any patriotic celebration I've seen in the states. The day started out at Victory Park for me, because our teachers wanted us to be as safe as possible, yet still experience festivities by avoiding the crowds at Red Square. There apparently was a screen up for people to watch the parade, but my group took our time to enjoy the monuments and missed it.

The monuments. Holy crap. Monolithic and moving are the only words I can think of to describe them. Maybe it was the environment, maybe it was because I've been focusing on WWII so much in my studies, or maybe it's because I had 2 grandfathers fight in the "Great Patriotic War" (as it's called here), but I couldn't help but feel so small, insignificant,  humbled, solemn, and grateful. I was physically moved by them, had I not been with a group, I may have actually shed some tears from the way my heart sank to my stomach as I walked through the park. The weather was absolutely perfect for a day like this at least - sunny and 70. (Yeah, it snowed a few days ago, remember?)

The number of carnations I saw about the city could keep a flower shop in business year round, just to supply for Victory Day. Old traditions remain alive, and could easily bring you to tears. Children are dressed up as little soldiers, girls young and old wear period soldiers' caps and everyone, I mean EVERYONE wears an orange and black stripped ribbon, even we did (since someone was passing them out at the park). Children give flowers to veterans of the war, and veterans also receive complimentary services and discounts through out the city. All military personnel receive thanks and gratitude, and not a single sweet old man looks any less manly for carrying around arms full of flowers as they stroll through the city in their uniform. Every monument related to the war has flowers placed in front of it, and the graves of those who made the ultimate sacrifice do as well.

Kruschev wasn't kidding when he said Russians never forget. It's true, we never do. My professor spent the day with her mother because she still has a hard time on this day. Remembering such times hurts, and that's one myth I can debunk about the Russian people as a whole - we are not hard, cold and unfeeling, though it may seem so. In fact, I really believe that Russians feel emotions so intensely that they reserve the expression of them for those who deserve to see it. More on that topic will come in another post.

The sheer number of people we saw heading to Victory Park after the parade was astounding. I've been to some big concerts and sporting events, and those crowds were nothing compared to this.

The day started out pretty rough for me. I woke up to the news of Dr. Tommie Wright's passing, and my heart goes out to his family. I had the joy of meeting him on several occasions and working with one of his daughters in a musical a few years ago. The sweetest man you'd ever meet, he always made sure to compliment every actor, no matter how small their role was. A Seminole head sticker is hanging in my room between a drawing my god daughter gave me on the day I left and my Victory Day ribbon.

As we left, people as far as the eye can see exited the trains and funneled through the station to the park above.

Rather than go back to the dorm when we left Victory Park, I decided to rally and stay out in the city with some students I didn't know that well. It's just what I needed. I was able to distract myself from my own breaking heart, observe even more of the ways that people celebrated the day, and got to know new people as we walked down Arbat Street, and then to a beautiful glass bridge crossing the Moscow River.

All day people celebrated, tailgate style, in front of Moscow State U.

The mood among the city gradually changed as the day progressed. Rather than solemn remembrance, it turned into joyful celebration. It seemed like the whole city carried itself with pride and kindness.

  

At about 9:30 pm we went to the front entrance of the university to watch the fireworks show over the Moscow River. Again, the crowd was HUGE. There was music everywhere and everyone was in a good mood, though that may have been from the amount of alcohol people had consumed throughout the day. The show wasn't as good as Disney, but still impressive. Afterwards we went down to the river, where plenty of people were still taking walks, having picnics and just enjoying the weather and celebrating. 

Even the next day, people still wore ribbons, and some still had their cars decked out with Victory Day paraphernalia. The city still has all of the monuments and signs up, and government offices are still closed (most of the city completely shuts down on May 9th, you want groceries- good luck finding an open store), there are still flowers on all of the statues in the city, even in the metro. It's truly impressive and awe inspiring how deeply they remember the war and respect the sacrifices their homeland made for the war effort and especially for Victory. All over you can see signs that say "Мир отстояли. Помним. Гордимся. Живём." Which means, "They defended the world. We remember. We are proud. We live." Heavy words for a heavy day.

My lesson from this heavy day: find the beauty in pain. If I had given in to my breaking heart (and sore body) and gone back to the dorm I would have missed out on that beautiful day. I wouldn't have seen how people took that solemn mood and turned it into something happy. I would have missed out on some amazing sights and hilarious incidents. Adjusting to a new environment, new friends, and new dynamics in preexisting relationships is tough. Add to that even the slightest bit of homesickness or sad news from home, as well as any empathy for those in pain around you, and that tough adjustment is even harder. My advice - push through it by trying something different, hang out with a different group than you normally would, go against the popular flow a bit, and take some time for yourself, even if it's just thinking while walking along and sightseeing, or painting your nails, or writing, or just observing your environment. Find the beauty in pain, even if it breaks your heart.

Photos cannot capture the feelings invoked by this monument.

Passing through the monument, even the most cheerful people take a moment to solemnly reflect on it's meaning.

Standing at it's foot, you can't help but feel so small.

Saint George slays the Dragon

Dancers in period costume dance along Arbat Street, a beautiful, yet heart-wrenching sight.

We stumbled across another one of the "Wedding Cake" buildings of Moscow.

The 1st selfie for new roommates and fast friends.

Fireworks set off from barges in the Moscow River for Victory Day.

The party in front of the university kept going into the night.

Locals found secluded places to picnic, drink, and celebrate.

The lights of Moscow (albeit a poor quality photo) from Sparrow Hills, just in front of MSU.