research frustration, other things

What should I be for Halloween? Right now I am considering being Bayterek, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bayterek) which is a funny monument in Astana (the capital of Kazakhstan). This is mostly an excuse to paint my face gold.

My elbow made a miraculous recovery! When I wrote that last entry, I could move my elbow joint about ten degrees. Now I’m up to about 85. I’m hoping the other 5 will come back soon. I didn’t get the CT scan I was supposed to, because the doctor was so impressed at my improvement.

I’ve hit a rough patch with my research.  It’s really time I start writing a lot, but I can’t discipline myself to do it. I’m reading a ton, but I could read for years about my topic and everything it relates to. Reading is turning into a  cocoon for me, and I fall back on it because I have trouble trusting that I am a good enough researcher and writer to do my project. There are so many days that I don’t spend even an hour fooling around, but, regardless, at the end of the day I feel as if I have nothing to show for my work. I’m still very focused on building my Russian vocabulary, which on one hand is great and will help my research a lot, but on the other hand takes up a lot of my time. I have a lot of resources now, but I don’t force myself to focus on what matters. I would really appreciate any advice from you all on how to get around these road blocks.

I wish I had somewhere to write about my observations, about this culture, country, my research. Right now they are overflowing my notebooks, and this blog doesnt necessarily seem like the right place to put them. Seeing as how I manage one blog horribly, I have trouble imagining two.

This weekend was enjoyable. Margaret and I returned to the banya, with the two Megs I go to yoga with. This weekend was Margaret’s birthday. Had Chinese food, danced some. On Sunday, I went to a craft fair.

Next week I am going to Kyrgyzstan. It is the closest Stan, and to Bishkek (the capital) it is about 4 hours by car. In the visa queue, I met a nice fellow named Robert, who has just finished his Peace Corps term in Kazakhstan. We decided to be travel buddies in Kyrgyzstan, and he might be able to find us some volunteers to stay with along the way. A friend I met in Almaty (David) lives in Bishkek and another friend (Eitan) from the State Dep summer program I did last year is in Osh, so I’ll have some familiar faces along the way. I am also trying to volunteer with Habitat when I am down there.

I seem to have some weird connection to people waiting at the Kyrgyz consulate. It turned out that Robert and I were about to attend the same lunch, and I ran into two others separately at coffee shops. Mir tyesen! (Small world)

Sorry for no photos. The love-of-my-life camera is officially broken, and I’m waiting for the one my mom sent to arrive.

Oh and if think you are going crazy because it seems like a bunch of posts show up all at once, it’s because I do actually post them all at once, and backdate them.

Big Almaty Lake

Yesterday, Kulyash and I continued our biweekly excursion tradition with a hike to Big Almaty Lake (Большое Алматынское Озеро). After the last adventure, Kulyash was apprehensive about driving, and I am probably even more apprehensive about her driving. The lake is much closer than other trips, so we took a city bus to the end of the line, and then walked from there.  I misunderstood the directions Jimmy gave me, and was under the impression it would take only one hour from where the bus let us off, but it was a much longer hike. It took us five hours on a very steep incline to reach the lake, and especially towards the end the two medical students we befriended on the way had to wait for us as we took breaks every few minutes.

I had heard “Just 2 kilometers more!” so many times that at some point I forgot that we had a goal. But finally Ruslan stopped at the top of a hill, and announced our arrival.

There is something so nice about enjoying a simple meal in the middle of nature in this part of the world. I remember it from Russia too. The food brought along is always simple—hard boiled eggs, chicken, tea, boiled potatoes or simple cheese sandwiches— but there’s something about the feeling of eating a deserved meal in the grass without wrappers or utensils after a long hike.

On the way back down, after we had finished the steepest part of the hike, I slipped on a piece of concrete and hurt my left arm pretty badly. I think I am cursed. It is still very stiff, but my arm isn’t broken. This experience is certainly making me appreciate my left arm and all the things it does. For example, now I know that brushing my hair, preparing any meal, and putting on absolutely any clothing item is far easier with both hands available.

I’m a bit bummed about my arm, because I was hoping to go to Kyrgyzstan next week. I am getting a CT scan tomorrow to see if I broke my elbow bone.

library, banya

Lots to update about. As much as I love having a record of what I’ve done and hearing from friends and family who read this, I still don’t actually enjoy writing it.

I’ve been getting into more of a routine, yoga twice a week, reading in the kafedra for a few hours each day, and then reading somewhere else the other half of the day. Walking around the city as much as I can. Yoga is less and less confusing, especially after reviewing parts of the body.

I joined the national library. Expecting it to be a mess of red tape to join, all it took was an id photo and 150 tenge (1$). The red tape waits inside. An ex-pat friend joked “maybe you overpaid”, considering how much of a hassle both obtaining and reading the book you want is. The stacks here aren’t open like they are in the US, which means no browsing in your area of interest. It’s even more frustrating, because there is only a few word description of each book.  Though you should feel free to browse through their… card catalog. I am thankful that I paid attention in 4th grade library class. After finding the code of the book you desire, you have to find a librarian to order it for you, but only after hassling a few of the wrong librarians can you figure out which part of the library you should be asking for your book in. There are no signs to help you get to the right place. One entire afternoon was spent being sent from one floor of the library (“Your book is Russian. You need to be at the Moscow desk”) to another (“Your book is an art book. Why would you come to my desk for that?”) After visiting close to every desk, I finally found the appropriate librarian, who was inexplicably the one in the Turkish cultural room. The library has a bunch of cultural rooms, with Iran’s being the most happening. They’ve always got food and a gathering of sorts. Anyways I finally have some really useful sources, and now it’s time to buckle down and start trudging through. Of course allowing you to take books out would be too convenient, and their copier is “broken”, so I had to pay to get all the books scanned.

Margaret’s apartment is right by the baths, so last Friday we finally braved the banya.  I had only gone to a private banya before, so this was quite an experience, especially as a foreigner. There were very few clear directions, so we managed to do most things incorrectly until we were instructed otherwise.  By the last trip in and out of the hellish steam room, I had lost quite a few layers of skin. I felt reborn. And very dizzy.

On Saturday I went to Gorky Park with a new journalist friend David, where we tried out the ferris wheels. The rides in the park are charming in that questionable safety way. Then we went to a barbeque at the house he’s staying at, where two other journalists live. The house is enormous and on the edge of the city. These houses are the new style for the very rich in Almaty. They’ve popped up in recent years, close to one another and hiding behind tall gates.

I’m really enjoying the days I spend reading in the Kafedra. Sometimes it’s a bit loud and busy, but it’s nice to be able to take breaks for tea and cookies with the professors, and joke around with the younger people who work in the department, Bagdat, Rustem, and Ascar. They are teaching me bits of Kazakh, and laugh at how I butcher every word. In my defense, the sounds of the language are very challenging.

Weather here is EXCELLENT. Couldn’t ask for anything more. It’s been around 60 degrees and sunny every day. The leaves are turning orangey and falling.

Itunes is positive I live in Germany. I do not know enough (any) German to fix this.

We are almost out of apples! I can’t believe it. I made a few batches of apple cookies, all of which were gobbled up.  This may in part be due to the fact that I live with a 15 year old male.  However, at the university, I was told very matter-of-factly that I cook well enough that I will be able to find a husband, as though I should have been very worried if it were otherwise. I have indeed gotten a few proposals, mostly from Ascar, who seems less and less like he’s joking.

Singing dunes

Yesterday we went to the Singing Dunes (Поющие Барханы). An adventurous day it was.

In total we were in the car from about 8 hours. For every minute of those eight hours, I was gripping handles on both sides, quite certain that it was the last day of my life. Kulyash admitted to me today that it was the first time she had driven outside of Almaty. However, for being inexperienced, she is also extremely aggressive and inattentive, which was made only more frightening on a drive consisting of many tight corners close to cliffs.

Driving here is the craziest I’ve ever seen. Kulyash tells me that there is no exam, just a fee to get your license. In addition, Kazakhstan’s economy recently grew very rapidly, and one of the results is that suddenly many people could afford to buy nice new cars. Many of these people picked big ones. Most drivers are new (less that 5 years). Last week,  I got quite a laugh watching a middle aged business man attempt and fail numerous times to parallel park his shiny new SUV in central Almaty. I am sure I will rant later about the driving here and related issues, so I should move on.

The Singing Dunes are deep within the Altyn-Emel National Park, also near the border with China. We passed Lake Kapchagai on the drive, which is a large artificial lake formed in the late 1960s for hydroelectric power. Now it’s a popular summer destination.

When Kulyash found out that admission for me would be 5500 tenge ($35) as a foreigner, she was determined to get me in for local/CIS price (1000 tenge), which is around $6.50. I protested that lying about my citizenship was probably not a good idea. She told me to pretend to be asleep and if the guard spoke to me, to speak without an accent.  For a further discount, she told the guard that I was 15, and the daughter of the other woman we were travelling with, Gulmira from the office. Neither of these things are at all believable, and the day grew awkward when they informed us that we had a guide to join us, who would help us get to and from the dunes.  Luckily my weird answers to her basic small-talk questions were enough to get her avoid conversation with me.

After entering the park we stopped at a pond with a bunch of fish. I did not understand the importance of these fish, but the most important one looked very dead to me. Then we stopped at a small spring, located in a very beautiful clearing of tall reed-like plants. It felt like a little room on a tropical island, and we returned later to eat lunch there.  Our last stop was a set of three big rocks. My understanding is that they believe that there was once a very important kazan (big pot) on these rocks.

Finally we reached the dunes. They were magnificent!!  Here I am at the base:

We were the only ones there! The dunes don’t exactly sing, but they do sort of vibrate, especially when moving rapidly and towards the top.

The dunes were very hard to climb, but eventually we made it to the very top. For a long time the peak seemed to be getting only further and further away.

And here’s the last photo my camera took before sand was lodged in some very important part of it and it died. Here is Guilmira sliding down the dune.

On the way back we stopped at the guide’s friend’s house in Basshi (the village where the office is located). We picked aport apples in their garden, so now we have two more bags! Only a few adventures later, including both a speeding ticket and running out of gas just outside of Kapchagai, we made it home.

apples, dacha

Kazakhstan considers itself home of the apple. The name Almaty is even derived from the Kazakh word for apple, “alma”.  A few weeks ago, I asked Alexei, my adviser, if they had the autumn tradition here of apple picking.  He looked confused and suggested that I come to his dacha and pick up all the apples, because there are so many that they are falling down and rotting on the ground. So today we went to his dacha in the mountains. Oh the apples. And oh the pears. And grapes. And more apples.

Here’s Alexei picking apples:

His dacha is very charming, and appropriately modest.  Some of the dachas being built now are really ostentatious. He designed and built parts of it himself. One day I am going to design and build a simple house for myself like this.

My favorite part was this outhouse he built, complete with a view.

And here’s the view:

Now we are swimming in fruits. Our refrigerator is quite a sight. All the drawers are bursting, and each non-apple item has an apple on top of it. If anyone has any good apple recipes, please send. The more apples they require, the better.

Kulyash had been given property for a dacha from her job around 15 years ago, but she never built on it or saw it. It’s right down the street from Alexei’s dacha, so we visited it on the trip. We thought it was pretty comical that she already has a pear tree, running water, and a dog. Here she is with her invisible dacha.