Madrid

I arrived in Madrid almost gitty to see John, Mollie, and Alex. I took a bus to their arrival terminal expecting them to be waiting on their bags outside of customs. Turned out I had to wait a few hours more, during which time it was clear to me that my Spanish comprehension was fine, but speaking back was quite the opposite.

With the assistance of a pedestrian’s GPS phone, we found our apartment and crashed for a much needed nap. Took me about 70 hours or so to get from Karakol to Madrid.

Nightlife, tapas, jamon, good cheese, Europeans, relative warmth and the company of my good friends—vacation is a wonderful thing. I had been to Madrid once before with an older host sister when I was 16, but we mainly went to Warner Bros. Madrid and the movies. This time I was able to appreciate the beautiful architecture of the city with more freedom to explore.

Some highlights of Madrid:

-Rembrandt and the Prado
-The Bank of Spain
-Dancing at a “mixed” night club/bar
-Churros and chocolate, mostly the chocolate
-Dunkin’ Donuts
-El Corte Ingles

Karakol, Kyrgyzstan—Almaty, Kazakhstan

I left my house shortly after Christmas celebrations with a few other volunteers in the Issyk-Kul area. I left a note for myself with the heading: “Back,” it has a list of the months remaining in Kyrgyzstan. Jan-2wks, Feb/March-projects, April: Devin’s visit, May: Mom’s visit, close of service conference, June/July/August-summer. Beside the months, I listed: GMAT, Russian, website projects, camp resources/development, and Talas/Naryn trips. I left the list on the living room table for my return, hoping it would ease coming back and remind me what I can do here and things to look forward to.

I walked the few blocks to the bus station and took one to Bishkek; 6 hours later I transferred to another mini-bus bound for Almaty. After a blizzardy walk across the Kyrgyz-Kazakh border, and a 3-hour drive I was freezing in the financial center of Kazakhstan and its previous capital city. I clearly packed more for Morocco than the trip to the airport…

I spent some time at a marketing firm waiting for a friend to finish work. He then gave me a tour of Almaty by car. Beautiful parks, wide streets, tall buildings, a dozen western hotels, clear foreign investment, and plowed, well-paved roads—I was shocked I had only traveled several hours across the border, and that all this exists in Central Asia. We went to a glitzy American style mall complete with Baskin Robins, Espirit, Sbarro, and tons of other international brands. There was a huge supermarket with everything. Oil wealth goes a long, long way…

In the middle of the night, I was driven to the airport. From the outside it was hilariously characteristic of style in Central Asia: bedazzled and sparkling. The building had thousands of flashing white lights and a special space for “VIP” travelers. I was convinced I was being taken to a Vegas casino. My 4 AM Lufthansa flight (Frankfurt bound) awaited—final destination: Madrid.

Back

I have arrived safely back in Karakol from a fabulous vacation to Europe and Northern Africa. The return is a bit harder than expected. I’m quite sure one cannot experience a greater disparity of wealth between rural Kyrgyzstan and the extravagance of Monaco. Over the last three weeks I traveled via Almaty in Kazakhstan to Spain, through Morocco and finally to the south of France and Monaco. The following series of blog posts will discuss these travels and the inevitable comparisons I have made throughout.

Although the drive from Bishkek back to my frigid apartment in Karakol—where I was met with no electricity—was one of the hardest yet, I am grateful for the privilege of mobility. I value the opportunity to further understand the global disparity of wealth and its role in peoples’ outlooks, and in political affairs.

International Volunteer Day

December 5th, a UN declared International Volunteer Day. A big celebration for local and international volunteers in Karakol… The day started with a press conference with all the organizations that have local and/or international volunteers. All regional volunteers gathered in the main square in Karakol after canvassing around town about what volunteerism is and how it helps the community. Over 200 Karakolians returned their badge of support in the form of a sticker on a large banner explaining “We’re helping, we’re millions strong, are you with us?”

A party and a showing of Madagascar 3 in Russian closed up the day’s events.

Иссык-кулские Гребешки

I just climbed a mountain. We summited the second day, what a feeling—such a tangible sense of accomplishment. Иссык-кулские Гребешки, Issyk-Kul Mushroom, 3360 meters. It's pretty amazing what the body can do, and how far it can go in a day. Nature and high elevation have such an effect of reflection and contemplation. It will always baffle me where I find such enthusiasm for excursions that induce such discomfort and stretch the limits of my physical ability, but it's all in the challenge—and without fail, in the end I only remember the joys.

Thanksgiving Departures

Winter has set in. My feet are propped up on my space heater trying to thaw out from the unheated workday… I think a few seasons have gone by without an update from my life here—the changing weather and the coming holidays have inspired me to write.

Today was a swing of emotions, which is not uncommon for me here—but this time was a little different. The joy of checking my email to find my brother’s flight itinerary for an April visit was clouded about an hour later by the director of my NGO announcing her departure to Bishkek (the capital) for work. Leila, one of my best local friends must move to the big city to provide for herself and her parents with a better paying job. It’s the reality that most offspring must support their parents first and take what little is left for themselves. Dreams are often trumped by the necessity for a decent, immediate paycheck—whether it takes them to the international organizations in Bishkek or to manual labor jobs on the racist streets of Moscow, there’s a constant exodus from the regions. I had a good cry.

In a few hours it will be Thanksgiving, I’m headed to Bishkek to spend the holiday with some American development worker friends and to say farewell to another good friend who’s calling it quits in terms of Peace Corps. We’re down to about half of the volunteers we came with in the summer of 2007. The short trip will be a needed escape from the cold apartment and office in Karakol, it will be a beautiful drive to think about what my situation will be like without Leila.

On this holiday, I’m thankful to have worked and developed a friendship with such a progressive woman and leader in Kyrgyzstan.

Happy Thanksgiving…