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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

So that’s slowed me down some. Last week I presented my research ideas to my advisor and a few other professors from the kafedra. I prepared a powerpoint with photo examples, and an outline of the areas that I am interested in. Anyways, I was fairly proud of myself for putting together a presentation with 2 days notice all in Russian. It was very negatively received, unfortunately. It was explained to me that my objectives were not rigid enough and that it wasn’t clear why my project was important. It was suggested that I make a clearer thesis and make my project “of the soviet method”. This got me very frustrated, because 1. I made it clear that I am still exploring my topic, and that I will not be ready to make a definite thesis for another month. 2. most of my presentation had explained the usefulness of my project and my explanation that it would probably benefit western academia far more than here.

So it’s been a rough week, and I’ve been really slipping on my research reading and Russian studying. I am having a one month crisis already, thinking about how much more I have to accomplish in just 9 more months.

On Sunday, Kulyash and her daughter Janna, who is visiting from Turkey, went to Panfilov Park, and then Kok-Tobe. It means “Green Hill” in Kazakh. It’s a 20-30 minute walk to the top (alternatively, you can take a gondola back and forth in 5 or so minutes), and there’s a pleasant view of the whole city and a recreational area. There is also a Beatles statue. Obviously. We also stumbled across a rather funny mural painted by a child, of a what appears to be a fish riding what appears to be a bicycle. I explained Janna and Kulyash the expression “a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle” and after a few minutes of clarifying that no, I really didn’t actually mean to say water, I earned a chuckle. I find that laughs are hard to earn when speaking in another language.

This weekend, I discovered ebooks, and read “Half the Sky” by NYTimes journalist Nicholas Kristof and his wife (also a journalist) Sheryl Wudunn. It’s about the oppression of women in the developing world, and a must read.

I’m typing up a post about my research…. really this time.

We spent 6 hours in the “Valley of Castles”, named so for the rock formations that have emerged over time. Just like watching for images in clouds, it’s impossible not to see rabbits, bears, forts, ships, faces in the rocks. The main path for the Valley terminates at a small river, where we ate our lunches. On the way back to the bus, our guide showed us an alternative, very steep route. The view from the top was worth it, but I was very glad we didn’t have to go back down the same way. Tamerlane had convinced me earlier to climb up a steep cliff, and I had not given much thought to the trip back down until I was crawling/falling like a spider.

This week Tamerlane, my 15 year old “host” brother came back from Astana, where he was getting therapy for his back. He is suspiciously polite for his age.

Kulyash and I have been getting along very well these last couple days. We’ve been having very long conversations, and she’s had more patience with explaining words and phrases I don’t understand. I’ve definently had more difficulty with her than with previous host families figuring out what kind of relationship she expects us to have (renter or guest). In any case, I think that she is finally warming up to me.

Tomorrow we are going to Charyn Canyon, which is about 3.5 hours by bus. It is marketed as the ”miniature Grand Canyon”. I’d be dreading the drive, but I haven’t had a chance to see the landscape outside of Almaty, and it ought to be really beautiful.

I had my first ex-pat dinner this week. Jimmy (another one of the current Fulbrighters here) invited me out to dinner with his roommates – all of whom are Fulbrighters still here from last year. At the table were people who came to kstan for fulbright, peace corps, study abroad, NGOs. A very interesting crowd to talk to.

Last night, I went to yoga with two of the girls (both named Meg) from the group. I found it very hard to completely relax when I had to translate for myself the whole time. My yoga vocabulary isn’t that great in Russian, and they use the Sanskrit names for all the positions, rather than the cute animal names. I’m planning to go regularly, so I will pick up more each time. Makes me wish we had played Simon Says in Russian class.

After yoga, I went out with the two girls, and a bunch of their friends in Almaty to a restaurant and then a bar. There were some of the same people from the other night plus a few journalists. Again, I had several very useful conversations with people at the table. Between everyone I met those two nights, I feel really good about the contacts I have here, in terms of my research, travel, and life advice. Just talking to a few of them informally about my potential research gave me a collection of new leads and observations.

A few people have suggested that I do some of my travelling now before it gets cold, my top priorities being Bukhara, Samarkand (both in Uzbekistan), Turkestan (southern Kazakhstan)and Astana (the capital of Kazakhstan). At the same time, I am still getting used to Almaty, and could really use these weeks to flesh out my topic a little more. That way, I would be able to use my travel experiences more wisely and integrate them into my project.

I know a lot of you aren’t very familiar with Kazakhstan, and even fewer of you understand why on earth I wanted to move here. Soon I will try to type a quick introduction to the country, Almaty, and more about what I’ll be doing.

Tonight I am having dinner with a woman who studied architecture at KazNTU, Madina, and her husband who live nearby. It’s nice that my social life is picking up. Definently feeling less lonely.

After two days (asleep) in a hotel in the center, I moved into my apartment in the Orbita district. My neighborhood is a few miles south of Almaty’s core, but much quieter and with much less smog. It’s hard to imagine after being in downtown Almaty that there could be fresh air to breathe within city limits. It’s one of the greenest cites I’ve ever seen, with fully grown trees –not the usual dinky urban trees– in every direction, but the city can’t handle the number of cars, and there aren’t strict regulations for emissions yet. I’ve heard the joke that “Almaty is a city of 2 million people and 4 million cars.”

We are very close to the Tien Shan mountains, and the view when walking down the street on a clear day is absolutely unbelievable. The snow-capped mountains seem like they are within walking distance, and that they might topple on top of you any moment. Much of the last week has been spent orienting myself, wandering, adjusting to the time difference (10hrs ahead of East Coast). I did have time to go to the art museum, which was amazing, though completely desolate. I definently plan to return. They have an excellent collection of Kazakh Soviet and contemporary art, but the applied arts section is lacking, and I probably saw more going to the big craft fair (not touristy yet! I think was the first craft fair I’ve been to that felt that way). Just like at the Novaya Tretyakovskaya gallery in Moscow, I stopped in front of nearly every art piece and had to even pull myself away from a few of them.

For the next couple months I am living with a Kazakh woman, Kulyash. She is an art professor at the university I am affiliated with. She has a 15 year old son, Tamerlane, who will be returning from Astana (the capital) on the 15th. She also has 25 year old daughter who married a Turk and now lives in Turkey. Each of the family members has such impressive artistic talent!

My Russian is slowly coming back up to speed. My vocabulary is largely restored, but my grammar is a mess. I never would have imagined 4 years ago when I took my first Russian class that I’d still be reviewing irregular case endings today. This is one of my main focuses for now. People here speak much faster than in Samara and even than in Moscow. I’m feeling impatient with myself to rapidly improve my Russian and dive into my research.

I am having trouble deciding if ten months is a long time or a short time. At this point, looking forward, it seems long, but when I think of the current scope of my topic, ten months already seems too short.

Especially the first few days, I found myself missing home a lot. I had a great last couple weeks saying goodbye to everyone: leaving Habitat and Delaware, seeing Phish at SPAC, Jersey shore with the Lowdermilks.  Adam and I had too fantastic of a last week together in New york and Baltimore, which made leaving even harder. He got his first — though brief– trip to New York. We walked on the Highline, and ate great thai food, but did not find delicious fresh bagels. In Baltimore, we finally made to the aquarium, took multiple trips to the Annabel Lee, and I ate my last slices of Ledo’s pizza, before we had to put on our sad faces and head to Dulles, still the worst airport ever.

So I’m here on a Fulbright grant, which has given me the opportunity to live here for a year and work on a academic project in my discipline. My topic is still fairly general, because there are many different aspects of Kazakhstan’s architectural history and present which I find fascinating. These first few months I will spend doing general research in my areas of interest, before deciding on a more defined topic to spend the rest of my time here on. The Kazakh National Technical University is hosting me here. I use its library and computers, and I even have my own desk in the kafedra (faculty lounge), where I can read, write, and talk with the professors in the architecture department. The facilities are very nice. Professor Abilov is serving as my adviser on the project, though it is not completely clear what his role will become. He had a Fulbright to come to the US in 2000, so he is familiar with the program. However, it was much later in life when he did his Fulbright, so his area of interest and topic were much more specific before he arrived. I think he is a bit disappointed that I will be flailing around for the first few months.

Prices are lower than I had expected. From information conveyed at orientation and from several guidebooks I was expecting London-like prices, but it is certainly not the case. Food is especially inexpensive, of course not at the restaurants. Hard as it is to believe, Almaty is a city known for its restaurants and nightlife. Yes, this is Kazakhstan.

This Wednesday, at the last minute, I was invited to go to a night of entertainment, provided by Isover, a French company that designs and produces building materials. It was held at a very upscale hotel restaurant, and Kulyash and I were both very undressed for the occasion, since we came right from the university. The first two hours were spent listening to seminars about new techology and Isover’s role in Central Asia. My brain checked out after about an hour of listening to construction jargon in Russian. The prize for surviving was an elaborate dinner, including my first taste of horse meat. Yes, this is how I at last broke my vegetarianism. The house band played an interesting array of English songs, from Louis Armstrong to “I’m too sexy”. The host of the night was a very well known Kazakh television host, who Kulyash explained to me has been publically cynical of Nazerbayev in the past. He had a very quick wit. And despite all hopes that I could keep a low profile, I managed to win a raffle that I was not even aware that I entered. I went up to accept my prize and my accent tipped off the host to ask where I was from. After explaining that I was from America and that I was only there because the head of the architecture department was too busy to attend, there was a cricket-chirp response from the crowd. So, feeling rather embarassed, I sat back down at my seat with my new industrial strength thermos.  But, from then on I became American Girl and everyone warmed up to me, asking me to dance and toasting to my arrival. The regional head of the company seemed very relieved that he had someone he could talk to in English. He was French, so in his honor they had French trivia.  Nightlife in Russian culture has much more of a live entertainment focus than in the US. They love dancing, singing, activities. Well anyways, one of the questions was “Name one work by Jean Paul Sartre”. I hate attention in these sorts of situations, but after 10 seconds of awkward silence, I pointed to the exit sign and said rather unconfidently ”Byez Vihoda?” (“Without an Exit”?). I was lucky enough that people understood that I meant No Exit (Nyet Vihoda). For my correct answer I was awarded a very nice bottle of cognac.

I’m thinking about all the places I’d like to visit before my time is up. Right now it’s really an overwheming list, and I know I won’t be able to see all of them before time is up.

Detail of the main building on my campus:

Building with my apartment:

My desk in the kafedra: