This week has been a struggle for myself and the team and there is no doubt about it. I have seen how improper preparation for outreach leads to extreme frustration and slow take off, but we are off, we are here and although movement has been slow things are moving. What has been difficult to adjust to is the movement of life down here which reflects the temperature. The highs during the day barely reach above 0 Fahrenheit and drop to -20 at night and with that come new experiences like having my larynx freeze and feeling frozen nose hairs, something I never thought could happen. The Kyrgyz culture is not a task oriented culture and there has been a learning curve to realize this. For example: I planned having a 30 minute meeting with a man today that turned into 2 hours (I should have known better). But at least the meeting was productive: the man is an English teacher at a remote village and asked if I could visit for the week and critique him as well as assist his students; I eagerly agreed. This will be a new adventure as the village is a little more than 200km away and because of the roads a fine 5-6hr drive, which of course I don’t mind. The man constantly made sure that I was okay with poor 3rd world conditions during our conversation (obviously he doesn’t know me well and has been watching too much MTV) and was not convince by me telling him that it wasn’t going to be a problem for me. Hand shakes here are seals for contracts and broken contracts are seen as dishonor (sounds like “the good ol” days doesn’t it?), so at the end of our conversation I agreed to join him and his companion teacher for a 6 day stay. Afterward they invited me and some friends over for dinner.
Hospitality here is amazing since they treat all guests with the highest honor (you never know when you might be entertaining angels ). They have a saying here that goes,” two mountains will never meet, but two people can” which is reflective of their willingness to make friends. The hospitality has an interesting tradition where they only fill you tea cup up half way so you can finish soon and they gladly fill your cup again. Chai (tea), naan (bread) and meat (and vodka, though technically not food) make up the basics of the Kyrgyz diet so there are plentiful and can be expected at every meal. Naan is traditional cut and set on the table and to refuse it when offered is disrespectful. We were blessed on this night to have a traditional dish called ‘kurdoc’ which usually includes potatoes and seasoned meat. Although this time kurdoc had no potatoes I did have the privilege of watching him carve the sheep right in front of me and about 15 minutes later a plate of hot salted sheep meat was placed in front of my friends and I; no plates, just forks and a community plate. Before we left our new friends promised us more traditional food in the upcoming days and confirmed once again (by handshake) that we will meet them in the morning to depart on the week’s new adventure.
What else is going on? Well the week has been very fruitful after all. Some of the team members have been able to connect with the locals over conversations on the street, in the bazaar and over meals. Most of the members of the team have been pulled in off the street for a feast and one was even invited to spend the night. We have been able to give support to a missionary family that is here on a long term basis as well as visit one of the local pastors twice a week to spend time with him and his mini orphanage. We were able to connect with a couple from the Peace Corps that has been here for almost two years and were given some insight and prospects for us to engage while we’re here. The snowboard ministry is still booming (and so satisfying as you can imagine). I was able to speak with the man who operates the tow ropes just outside of town and he willing accepted my offer to have our team give free lessons to the locals. Today was our first opportunity to that just after a local ski competition finished. Everyone wants to get at least one try on a board and is so grateful after; in fact, we have regulars: a group of guys 15-17 that turn and stop with control!
Sadly, as of the last couple days I’ve suddenly realized I’m out of my comfort zone and am seeing the stark contrast between my way of life and life here (it’s like delayed culture shock), but small things keep me grounded and in perspective like listening to my ipod and drinking some of the coffee that I brought. Last night I was able to watch a UFC dvd that a friend purchased at the bazaar for 40com (a little more than a buck) and some how watching guys beat the snot out of each other made me feel like I was at home for a bit (that’s for you Trav). [and ya, I know, that’s kind of demented] and somehow simply writing this blog keeps me grounded and I remember once again to embrace The Process.
Thanks for reading the blab!

The blog following this is one that I just posted but was written days ago (so you should really read that first) and in re-reading my last blog I fear that I may have painted a bleak picture w/the last paragraph. Although times are frustrating here I have been able to some things. The first is my team job that I briefly mentioned which is cooking. Thank God that I do not cook everyday, but setting up a cooking schedule and making sure everything runs smoothly is something that I do constantly. It was a blessing and exhausting to be cooking for the team the first week and helped me to get to know town more, but I won’t need to be doing that for another week. Pictures of the bazaar, our dinning room and the fruits of some of my labor can be found in the slideshow to the right of the page. I wish I could post pics directly on here but bandwidth is so slow over here I had to do it this way.
Another of the things I get to do here is go to a village about half hour away and assist with English classes (pics on slideshow). This has been a great blessing. For the most part people in the village get around on horseback and tend to their flocks. Most recently we showed up to teach and found out that school was canceled due to the upcoming new year (communication is not great as you can imagine), but we were able to watch a new years school celebration and were welcomed with open arms.
And there have been some developments in the things I have set out to do. There are two families doing the work of the way here that we have been able to assist with. The first is the family that runs a small orphanage: here I have helped set up things to be done with the children as well as work around the house (I cannot imagine the work they do). In fact today I was able to help clear their yard of snow (which took 2hours) and have some soccer games; it was definitely the highlight of the day. With the second family we’ve also been able to establish assistance that will lighten their load to efficiently work with the nationals they’re building into as well as establish network that will be beneficial to both them and future teams that come to what we are attempting to.
Thanks for reading, more next week.

Or at least something like that was what I was told and I think it means “happy new year!” (I hope anyway, people could have been saying that I smelled like sheep urine, or worse.) This was an interesting new year, but only one to be expected around here. Let me begin a few days earlier. On the 30th I met one of the local pastors around here who does everything: church planting, spreading the news along with running a small orphanage and supporting the family with raising sheep and cattle; needless to say he is one of those few that you meet once in a lifetime and you know you’re in the presence of greatness; he is one for whom it is written “in those days there were giants in the land”. I caught a fever later that night nothing ravaging, but something that temporarily laid me out so I slept in until noon on the 31st. We then went for an earlier meal at a local restaurant that began to play techno 80’s/90’s music with Billy Joel (interesting). New Year is a big holiday here since for the most part they do not celebrate Christmas; everything shuts down even the restaurants and small family stores and everyone stays home to spend time with family and friends. Then at midnight the restaurants that double as a disco open and everyone parties till they drop, but the team and I had a different plan. Being the outdoors people we are, we took a hike into the local foothills (with a nice foot of snow) to watch the New Year roll in. it was beautiful! Fireworks everywhere lighting up the city below; serious Disneyland fireworks can be bought off the street for a few bucks (since china is so close), and of course we had our own with a little champagne. HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!
The next day I was awakened by a certain Finnish friend jumping on me and cajoling me into going to the bazaar to buy groceries for the night’s dinner with her; I gave in pretty easy. I’ve never seen the bazaar in the state that it was; it might as well have had some tumble weeds blowing through. There was hardly anyone there which is in quite contrast to the way it usually is jostling with life and color, walking shoulder to shoulder and having someone shove some random piece of sheep meat in my face (on one occasion the meat cart was being pushed by with the meat steaming in the cold Kyrgyz air meaning a fresh kill). There were in fact only a few people at the bazaar: one tried to sell us meat out of the trunk of her car (black market meat?) and the other was selling produce out of the back of their car; we figured black market produce was safer so we thought we’d go meatless for the night’s meal. After making prep for the meal we decided to go for a hike and some snowboarding. Yes, that’s right I did mention the 12-16” of fresh snow that we got and the fact that we brought 5 boards with us? Well, we did. Snowboarding is actually part of the outreach we do here and we were able to begin last week when the snow fall gave us enough coverage. Most of the time we begin walking to the mountains everyone knows what we’re doing and children start following and last week I found myself giving snowboarding lessons when I looked downhill and saw men leading a cow down the street (that’s really not something you see everyday snowboarding). They also have small graveyards in the hills that are really cool to ride past too (they would make a great photo shoot). However on this day (January 1st), as we walked into the hills a family was having a holiday gathering around a bonfire and invited into the circle when they saw us. Before I realized it vodka a forced into my hand followed by all the men saying “salaam gorum” and making drinking motions; I didn’t want to insult so I accepted the hospitality chased with a local delicacy being shoved in my face. So I ate that too, which if not for the rubbing alcohol taste left in my mouth would have otherwise made me gag. You see what I swallowed was gelatinized sheep fat with spices [can you say mmm?]; and if you’ve had menudo before and put the leftovers in the fridge, well it tastes like that disgusting looking layer of jello fat that floats on the top. Yuck!
Well, what else are we doing here? To be honest that’s a question that I often find myself asking on a daily basis. A great deal of the work is inviting nationals to dinner and meeting and building relationship from there, but often that just doesn’t seem like enough. One of the big things that we were going to do fell through and that was working with the orphanage; we were able to visit and work with the children a few times until I went there one day last week only to find dead silence and no children. The next day I went with a translator to discover that because of the local energy crisis the children had been sent to a warmer city and not to return until march, bummer. The highlight of today was taking a marshooka ride. A marshooka is an 8 passenger van that the city uses like a shuttle and during “rush hour” I counted 23 people in one ride that I took. Yes, that’s right: people sitting on laps and butts in the face, but its all normal for the locals. My friends and I had a blast laughing at each other; oh by the way, the marshooka’s have this permanent cigarette and vodka smell in them and there’s almost always one drunk riding that always finds his way next to my friend James. Funny thing that I’ve recently observed about intoxication: it’s a helpful translator for any language. Ya, I’ve had deep conversations with inebriated individuals that ranged from Russian occupation to free dentistry and gold teeth to my beard and marital status. Really, one of the best parts of my day. The second would be a drunken 55 year old woman that had me and Leena dance with her during dinner tonight. We were eating at one of those restaurants that turned into a disco with booming techno music halfway through our meal, but it was fun and man that drunk lady could move.
I know I joke a lot on this blog, but please don’t take me lightly. I take seriously what I’m doing here and struggling for purpose is something I do and will continue to do daily. My frustrations with the leadership on this team are at a boiling point: organization and communication are inadequate and poor. Ministry and work should have been pre-arranged and ready for us to jump into, but it hasn’t been and I’m finding that I have had to go out and set things up for myself to do so I don’t rot weeks of my life away here, which is fine but I was put under the impression that things were laid out for us. I mean, this place is nice and great to visit but the magic wears after ten days of going to the bazaar to buy food and then cooking for 15-17 people. So I’ve arranged to meet with people from the Peace Corps later this week along with some locals to see how myself and the team can get plugged in. please, pray for open doors and work!!! Salaam to everyone from Kyrgyzstan!
PS. Merry Christmas too! Ours was great I helped make a 4 course meal that included a huge leg of lamb. Peace.

I wish I had adequate words to share the experience I had on Friday; pictures, today would be worth so much more. The sun wasn’t shining so most things looked gray and the air evened carried the same color; and that’s how Emily and I left as we made the 45 minute travel to a village to help with English teaching. Here, as in many countries, English is their 3rd language if they choose to learn it; everyone speaks their native tongue and Russian due to the country’s proximity and previous occupation. The roadside landscape is barren, for the most part; I wish I could see this place during spring/summer, it must be beautiful. Everything now though is dirt, even the mountains appear the same in contrast to the granite sierra nevedas. Men ride on horseback sheparding their flocks, some cattle, some sheep or horses. The livestock here are smaller and less majestic than the ones at home, but probably more hardy as their stature and thick coats show.
Graveyards adorn the hills at a close distance with their crescent pointed spires reaching toward the sky. They don’t make the land sacred, rather they are a monument of remembrance that ignite our memory that the land is sacred and the richness of this people’s culture is symbolic of the wealth of heritage in all humankind.
The school in the ‘local’ village is made from mud bricks and plaster like many of the houses. The school is heated by coal furnaces that they have in every classroom.
Once again, the children’s faces are bright with curiosity at seeing foreigners, some for the first time. I never thought I could have had such a great time helping with the English class. People here are so resourceful. The teacher we assisted began law school but when the soviet occupation left she could no longer afford it and became a teacher. She described to my how difficult it is to teach due to lack of resources; most classes only have one text book that the teacher copies onto chalk board and the class then copies for themselves.
After class, the teacher took us to her family’s house. As we arrived a coal truck was in the front measuring off a pile of fuel to be delivered to her house. Her family’s home was something out of a book. We took our shoes off in the entry way and were lead past the kitchen to the eating room where woven rugs decorated the floor and walls. We were then stuffed with steaming food which included a local noodle soup dish called Lagman often made with horse meat. When our meal was almost finished the teacher’s mother asked if it was possible for Americans to marry and stay in Kyrgyzstan (obviously setting her eyes on my friend Emily for her son). Emily turned red and we all left before we graciously thanked the family for their hospitality.

We arrived here in the Naryn region last Monday and it was driving down the road in a van when we stopped at a roadside café and I had one of those “Is this real moments?” The café was in the middle of no where, no where. Just a road [actually an old segment of the Silk Road] and dirt and dirt hills and dirt mountains and beyond those real mountains; or unreal as they first struck me. So unreal that they looked like the ones from the Matterhorn ride at Disneyland or something from the Himalayas that I have only dreamed of looking at National Geographic magazine, but they are real; I was looking at the Tien Shen mountain range that rolls through this region and all through China (which is about 140miles away but almost a 10hr drive straight over those mountains). This whole thing is real. I am here.
The children say Hello. Almost everywhere I go the children say hello and smile. Globalization is amazing and the influence of western culture undeniable. Really, how is that a small town tucked against the foothills of central Asia can say hello?
There is no hiding we are Americans so I don’t even try and there is no pressure to fit in or know the language in the next 8 weeks, just enough to know how much I’m buying and how much they’re trying to take advantage of me.
The spirit of some people are so bright which is such a contrast compared to the gloomy surroundings. But eyes and faces are full of light and the bright jackets of children shine like beacons of hope in a land of seeming destitution and desolation. Almost all children have hope and curiosity in their eyes, others carry darkness and suspicion and maybe rightfully so, but those that have contact with a team like ours in years past are so grateful we are here.
My birthday here was great. It was celebrated by a brisk and unfamiliar coldness in the air that I could not help but thank was grace given to me. I spent some time at the local culture center and had a wordless conversation with an old Kyrgyz man named Bull-ut; we stood admiring the snowcapped mountains and by hand gestures we agreed that the view is breathing (a view that he’s seen all his life). My night finished walking with a very special friend sharing conversation and appreciation of the night’s sky; I couldn’t have asked for more.

We've Landed!

We made it! Landed safely in kyrgyzstan, so let me tell you about the journey: we had a 9 hour flight from LAX to London, Heathrow on British Air. This airline was amazing, i've never flown in such luxury. If you've seen the movie Wall-E, it felt just like that. evey seat had a built in TV screen with a selection of music and movies to watch. did you catch that? a selection, seriously. then they gave us this gourmet airflight meal, amazing. so, things went smooth with our connection flight from London with another 9 hour flight in the Kyrgyz capitol of Biskek. But, (ya here it is) they misplaced all of our luggage. all of it. until, today that is; we finally got our bags, we able to shower and change clothes. not too bad, only 3 days without a shower in contrast to the 6 weeks that i did not have one at the beginning of this deal.

so, kyrgyzstan: man, this place is run down, which doesn't say a lot for the country considering its the capitol. everyone here speaks russian and when we leave for the Naryn region (tomorrow) hardly anyone there will speak russian and most will speak Kyrgyz. it's actually really cool hearing the differnce in language and no matter where we go everyone knows we're american and they stare (not too many tourists around here). most of my time spent the past few days has been walking around town shopping for food for the team and checking out the local bazaars. i love bazaars, they tell so much about a culture. they are always less clean and less selection, but they are also so authentic and because of the differnet standard that the US the beautiful colors of fruit stand out so much. they take pride in their stands whether they sell bread, meat or produce. it's beautiful, it's their life.

yesterday i spent some time in the Russian Orthodox church, which was really more like a shrine. this place was beautiful. it was decorated with paintings and iconography and it was dusty so the light that shined through the windows was caught and suspended in the air. i watched people pray and light candles in honor, but i think the best thing was watching the women clean the place. they cleaned old school with feet scrubbers and rags; something about that seems so much more sacred.

the weather here is not bad; the worst is at night when it gets down to about 20 degrees. but we're heading out tomorrow and to about 7,00 ft elevation and it'll be much colder (bout an avrg of -20), but that's not so bad considering i now have my warm clothes. thanks for all your thoughts toward us! keep it up.

Disclaimer

This is a disclaimer about the pictures you see on this site and the slideshow. so many have complimented on the quality of photos there, but i must confess: i borrowed most of them from my friend Leena Korppijakko (one of the girls on the team). so, if you're looking at a pic and thinking "that should be a postcard", then there is a 95% chance that it was taken by her. thanks for checking the site out!