The hardest part about writing a blog is finding something thing witty and entertaining to share. The second hardest part is finding internet often enough.

I left the United States of America almost two weeks ago but so much has happened it feels like two months have past. I spent my first few days as a Peace Corps Trainee (PCT) in Philadelphia new faces and being overwhelmed with information. It was a crash course on making new life friends for the journey ahead of us. Exhausted we pressed on to Kyrgyzstan where we spent three more days learning about the people and the culture of our new home.

Being in Kyrgyzstan was a surreal feeling. The new faces signal a new land but we were trapped inside the hotel with our fellow country men. The application process was finally over and the realization that we had become PCT was setting in. We had said good-bye to loved ones and were carefully handed new friends and family. Our third day in here we were finally given a few hours of freedom. With our Language and Culture Facilitators (LCF), we went to the supermarket, the flower shop and an internet café. I felt like such a child being marched through the city with my babysitter helping me find what I needed. I was introduced to Kyrgyz mass transportation… the marshuka. The marshuka is approximately the size of a 15 passenger van only tall enough for people to stand up. On either side there are a few seats but most people stand pressed so closely to another person you could feel their heart beat. It is a rather exhilarating way travel.

Our first day in country, the U.S. ambassador to Kyrgyzstan took a break to come welcome us to Kyrgyzstan. No worries Mom, I was dressed appropriately. She talked to us for a while about our role in Kyrgyzstan. According to the director, she is a strong supporter of the Peace Corps in Kyrgyzstan.

The culture lessons were by far the most entertaining part of our stay. Kyrgyzstan is made up of two main people groups--Russians and Kyrgyz-- but lacks not in variety of immigrants. Our sessions focused mainly on life in a Kyrgyz family since the majority of PCT would be living with one. The first topic of discussion… drinking. As an ex-soviet country, vodka is prevalent. Our trainers gave us a host of excuses to use in order to politely abstain from vodka. “I don’t drink.” “I am on medication.” “I am sick.” “I am allergic.” “The Peace Corps director told me I couldn’t.” “I am a recovering alcoholic.” And my personal favorite--“I’m Baptist.” The second topic of discussion… using an outhouse. I think this one is pretty self-explanatory so I will spare you the enthralling details. Moving on, I learned about the Krygyz banya. Once a week, families enter the banya to bathe. Basically, it is a two room building (one for clothes, one for bath) that transforms into a sauna to sit in anywhere from 1-3 hours. You have buckets of cold water to bathe with and to dip your towel in. You use the wet towel to beat the sweat off yourself. I have not had a chance to banya yet but I have taken full advantage of the summer shower--an outdoor shower. If I continue to mention every little detail this blog will become ten pages long.

Now, onto the most important stuff… my host family. After all of the hoo-ray in Bishkek, we were all anxious to meet our new family. We were hustled into a giant ceremony where each town was called up onto stage individually and PCT had to find the person with the matching slip of paper. Each paper had our name and the name of our host mother on it. It was quite literally a MATCHING ceremony. My host brother and host mother speak a little English which helped make the first night a hundred times easier. All the members of my host family--mother, father and brother-- are very lively, entertaining people. They have welcomed me with open arms and are egar to help me learn to speak Russian properly. They have had good practice since I am not their first volunteer. I really enjoy spending time with them. In three days, I have gone from knowing one word of Russian to being able to speak a few three word sentences. My host father’s niece lives next door. She also is hosting a PCT and has three little boys (ages 6,8,10). I spend a lot of time trying to play games with her boys when I am not studying.

Both houses are small farms. From what I can tell we grow pears, raspberries, apples, cucumbers, and other vegetables. We also have a roster that laughs instead of crowing, chickens, sheep and cows. Next door they have ducks. Needless to say, I run around the lawn saying “Goosey Goosey” (phonetic Russian for ducks) much to the chagrin of my neighbor. We have a dog named Kiki and an unnamed cat that are the family pets. The cat thinks Kiki is its mother which is hilarious to watch. Apparently, one of the last volunteers spoiled Kiki so now Kiki LOVES foreigners. The instant I come outside, the little thing will run over and within inches of my feet, roll onto its back for me to rub its belly. If I do not do a good enough job, she then follows me around outside jumping at my leg until I pet her some more.

Ten other volunteers live in the same city. So, I am not completely cut off from English as originally imagined. Despite our curfew, we still manage to hang out some. We are all in the same program which means that we do training together ever afternoon. In the morning, we are split into groups of five for our language classes.

I fear this blog has gone on too long and I am beginning to monopolize the internet. Thus, I bit you farewell and hope that I have given you enough stories to keep you entertained until next time. Sorry this was so long!

Cheers.