It's true, it really does alter all kinds of things, generally for the better. After a day of moping, of crying, at cursing at innocent people who really didn't deserve it and probably had no idea of how thoughtlessly rude they were being, I managed a respectacle 10 hours of sleep. I certainly don't feel good, or anything even close, but I do feel much more able to laugh at anything that might come my way.
I considered turning some of this energy and good will into work, and I do have a book I need to read out and everything, but really I'm just messing around the house and doing the kinds of errands that could wait indefinitely but let me waste time singing along to my iPod while still feeling purposeful. I'm about to head out to hunt down a cake for tonight (3 women with a cake, some fruit, some champagne, and an ability to talk about nothing forever, possibly watching a movie, and hopefully falling asleep around 12:23), and I think I'll see if I can find a place open to clean up my brows. I've also been trying on clothes, as numerous people have mentioned that I look thinner in the pictures they just saw.
This is a fraught area for me (well, I guess it's fraugh for everyone, as everyone has a truly disturbing weight obsession)--for almost the past two years I felt more and more hopeless as I seemed to lose total control over my body. The most obvious sign of this was the complete disconnect between with what (and how much) I nourished my body and my ever expanding girth. I decided to obsess over this rather than whatever was going on in my brain, kidneys, heart, whatever, because while upsetting, it was also far less scary. So, yeah, I'm unhappy with my weight, but hope is unkillable. When packing for this trip, not only am I the world's worst and least practical packer, I also packed my thin (for me) clothes, my normal clothes, my fat clothes, and then the few items of clothing that I could actually get around me. I was hoping that having cut out the drug that was making my heart go crazy, which we also suspected to be the drug making my fat cells go crazy, at least the gain would stop.
And it appears to have done so. Which is indredibly good news for me, as it implies some sort of cause and effect--take this drug, get fat. If I could, I'd still take the drug and keep getting fatter, because it was good for other things; it's the knowing that it's the (or at least part of the) cause that's important. When your body doesn't work and you don't know why, for me, I think the feeling that there is nothing you can do, nothing you can control, that's the worst.
So, yay for me--I just pulled out a whole bunch more clothes (the fat ones, if you're keeping score), and I suddenly have nice pants to wear and so on. They don't look great, I don't look great, but I look better, and I feel better, and that's good enough for me.
So in that spirit, I'm telling you all my New Year Resolution, becaues it's one that's important to me, and it's the kind that's hard for me. And no, it is absolutely not to lose weight, despite people commenting on how fat I am on a regular basis (if you noted the friends in the pics, you know why--they're competely average sized for here). Here, people make wishes for the New Year, but I like our way better. A wish means something you want, but not enough to work for. Plus, wishes have their own way of coming true. Even the Pussycat Dolls know this, as they sing "Careful what you wish for 'cuz you just might get it." Ah, the Pussycat Dolls, truly the stripping bards of our day. I believe the moral is, if you make wishes irresponsibly, you might end up a Pussycat Doll, and that really would just be the end for me. I can handle a lot, but not that. I am also very wary of any universal wish granting power, as I do not trust its sense of humor.
So, yes, my resolution! Kyrgyz are great toasters, and at Christmas, Elina gave a toast to all of us individually (we all know each other through E). When she got to me, she spoke about my achievement in even getting to Kyrgyzstan given recent history, and then she got a little choked up and (fine, alright, so did I) said that her wish for me is that I would just see what I've done and be a little proud of myself sometimes. So her wish is my resolution--to take better care of myself, which means mentally and not just physically (although being away from the department does make it so much easier to realize when I just need to rest), and to occasionally remember the things that I do get done, even when I'm in the midst of failing at a million other things.
It's a nice thought, anyway. I give myself about 3 days into January before I've referred to myself as a stupid cow (oh, and I already have my minimum 2 falls for the winter down, so I may need to raise my upper cap), but who knows, I could stick to it. And then I'll turn into one of those hideously annoying people who urge others to just love themselves a little more, and it will be what I wished for, but in the worst possible way for all of you.
Anyone else? Are are resolutions so laughably ridiculous they're going the way of the economy? Oh, and all the drug offers--YES! Of course you should be sending me meds! But, as per PD's valuable Norway experience, you might want to stuff them in some socks. Or, actually, due to a freak washing machine accident that left everything else perfectly fine but ruined all my bras by melting the colors somehow, you can stuff them in a 36D with underwires, lined, no padding, full sized cups no demis, please). I mean, you know, uh, if you've got all that stuff lying around or something.
HAPPY NEW YEAR, MY LOVES!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Laugh, Don't Cry
A few hours ago, I wrote a very angry and distraught post about my lack of drugs and the corresponding lack of drugs in Kyrgyzstan, and how it was making me very unhappy and tired because it actually hurts too much to lie down. I can now tell you from personal experience that leaning against a wall face first is not really conducive to sleeping. In case you were wondering.
Anway. Then I went out to try to meet a lady from the embassy on a street corner to get my papers and give the money for my visa, which involved standing on the side of the street in the freezing cold for half an hour only to realize that I had somehow messed up the meeting place/time. Then I stopped in 3 pharmacies on the way home to try to find something, anything, that might actually work for me (people here take ibuprofen after, like, open heart surgery, so decadent Westerner that I am, I'm out of luck). I've been taking a local NSAID, but that's a class of drugs that has never been of much use to me for whatever reason. By the rudeness of the lady in the 3rd pharmacy, who was much more interested in continuing her conversation with her friend than being of any help to me, I had pretty much lost all traces of humor, and I'll admit, may have let loose a few English expletives rather loudly on the way out. I have a serious issue with the random rudeness that one meets with all the time here, even though I should be used to it by now (especially given it's much worse in Russia, etc.).
Then I walked into the 4th pharmacy (pharmacies are everywhere, but they don't ever seem to carry much of anything. I'm very unsure of the business principles), and the man behind the counter was far more helpful. We had a total breakdown of communcation, though, not due to language but due to totally different ways of treating things in our respective countries. But imagine my delight when he told me that painkillers are just a temporary fix, that I need a course of treatment, and then produced a box of ampules and 5 individually packaged syringes so I can inject myself with strange substances at my leisure. Sadly, I tried looking up the drug and it does not appear to be heroin, but one can only hope.
I do realize that there are plenty of Americans who need to inject medications. If I were diabetic, or a MTF transsexual taking hormones, or plenty of other cases, I would be used to sticking needles in myself at home. But as it is, I find it pretty hysterically funny that I just waltzed into a drug store and waltzed right out with some random drugs I'm supposed to shoot up with. Good times.
ETA: This is me, a few hours later. After a not very good day (I can handle either pain or sleeplessness with relative equanimity, the two together and I suddenly cry at toilet paper commericals and try to remove my nail polish with my toothbrush instead of the bottle of remover next to the toothbrush holder--true story. Anyway, so I headed back out into the cold to finally get my ID card, and this time I managed that task successfully, and then when I stopped into a pharmacy to pick up the local sleeping drug, which is Benadryl without anything for allergies and is the next best thing to useless, I coincidentally saw that they had a version of the drug that is marketed in the US as Lunesta--not my drug of choice, but relatively effective and a sign of grace after the past week or so. I had seen it in Almaty and had asked in many, many pharmacies here for it, without any luck, so it felt like a little gift from the universe just waiting for me to find it until I really needed it. So it's not all moaning and groaning, or at least it won't be after I sleep for 15 hours tonight--tomorrow's a holiday! Um, and the syringes are still staring at me ominously. I have no intention of actually injecting strange liquids into myself, but at least I'm prepared for any syringe requiring emergencies, even if I can't quite imagine what they might be at the moment.
Anway. Then I went out to try to meet a lady from the embassy on a street corner to get my papers and give the money for my visa, which involved standing on the side of the street in the freezing cold for half an hour only to realize that I had somehow messed up the meeting place/time. Then I stopped in 3 pharmacies on the way home to try to find something, anything, that might actually work for me (people here take ibuprofen after, like, open heart surgery, so decadent Westerner that I am, I'm out of luck). I've been taking a local NSAID, but that's a class of drugs that has never been of much use to me for whatever reason. By the rudeness of the lady in the 3rd pharmacy, who was much more interested in continuing her conversation with her friend than being of any help to me, I had pretty much lost all traces of humor, and I'll admit, may have let loose a few English expletives rather loudly on the way out. I have a serious issue with the random rudeness that one meets with all the time here, even though I should be used to it by now (especially given it's much worse in Russia, etc.).
Then I walked into the 4th pharmacy (pharmacies are everywhere, but they don't ever seem to carry much of anything. I'm very unsure of the business principles), and the man behind the counter was far more helpful. We had a total breakdown of communcation, though, not due to language but due to totally different ways of treating things in our respective countries. But imagine my delight when he told me that painkillers are just a temporary fix, that I need a course of treatment, and then produced a box of ampules and 5 individually packaged syringes so I can inject myself with strange substances at my leisure. Sadly, I tried looking up the drug and it does not appear to be heroin, but one can only hope.
I do realize that there are plenty of Americans who need to inject medications. If I were diabetic, or a MTF transsexual taking hormones, or plenty of other cases, I would be used to sticking needles in myself at home. But as it is, I find it pretty hysterically funny that I just waltzed into a drug store and waltzed right out with some random drugs I'm supposed to shoot up with. Good times.
ETA: This is me, a few hours later. After a not very good day (I can handle either pain or sleeplessness with relative equanimity, the two together and I suddenly cry at toilet paper commericals and try to remove my nail polish with my toothbrush instead of the bottle of remover next to the toothbrush holder--true story. Anyway, so I headed back out into the cold to finally get my ID card, and this time I managed that task successfully, and then when I stopped into a pharmacy to pick up the local sleeping drug, which is Benadryl without anything for allergies and is the next best thing to useless, I coincidentally saw that they had a version of the drug that is marketed in the US as Lunesta--not my drug of choice, but relatively effective and a sign of grace after the past week or so. I had seen it in Almaty and had asked in many, many pharmacies here for it, without any luck, so it felt like a little gift from the universe just waiting for me to find it until I really needed it. So it's not all moaning and groaning, or at least it won't be after I sleep for 15 hours tonight--tomorrow's a holiday! Um, and the syringes are still staring at me ominously. I have no intention of actually injecting strange liquids into myself, but at least I'm prepared for any syringe requiring emergencies, even if I can't quite imagine what they might be at the moment.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Kyrgyz Christmas Pics
ETA: I was chided on Facebook for not providing context, so since you all are not, actually just extensions of my consciousness, I've added some informative captions. Also, there are more pics, if anyone cares to see them.
Here are some of the many pictures taken at my house on Christmas. Sadly, we didn't bring our cameras to the club. Or maybe not so sadly, depending on one's perspective. This was definitely the booziest and most lingerie filled of my Christmases to date (everyone asked everyone else for "something sexy" for the holidays--apparently here women buy each other underwear all the time, because men are too embarrassed to do so). I didn't get any underwear, though I did recently have the not to be mised experience of trying on bras (to figure out what size I am in this system) in an open air bazaar in 20 degree weather. Anyway, enough about underwear, and on to the pictures.
It's hard to tell, but this gorgeous table is set on the floor. Not because I don't own tables, but because here you party on the floor. I had decorations all over the apartment, too, but they don't really come out in the pictures. The tiny little tea cups were for booze, although after Elina, Asel and I had split our bottle of wine and Anara had made a bit of the dent in the cogna I bought for her, somehow the champagne was swigged out of the full sized glasses.
E actually made me stand back up and pose for this picture when I was already down on the floor getting ready to serve. Apparently it was a very important pic to take. I like it, I think I look a little Mad Men retro chic, housewife style. But in Kyrgyzstan.
Yeah, somehow we ended up with tons of pictures of the chicken and not a single one of my not quite traditional apple pie. Next time. At least now I know that they are possible despite locally imposed limitations. And I was told that it tasted just like America, because of all the cinnamon. That's right, y'all, America tastes like cinnamon. Be grateful, it could be so much worse.
I cropped this picture of me with E because I had yet to put on my stockings, and the sheer expanse of blinding white that is my legs can be a little disturbing, especially when compared to all the golden skinned beauties surrounding me. But you should know that E has been my salvation here in KG--she has introduced me to my other (local friends), and she is constantly proving herself a true friend in a really non-flashy way. She's good people.
OK, so this series of pictures quickly devolved. Here we're showing our Kinder Chocolate (have I written about my obsession with delicous/totally gross Kinder Chocolate before? The stuff is a wonder, and it's all over not-America, so the next time you go to not-America, be sure to get some), but there are lots of pictures of the gift opening. Some of them involve lingerie over clothes, and then there are the ones of Asel and I licking the eggs, which, just don't even bother asking.
So, yeah, my Kyrgyz Christmas: non-traditional but lovely. New Year's Eve is going to involve a whole lot less of the dressing up and eating and drinking and so on, and more of the hanging around with friends, which is more like a normal day and the only kind of celebrating I'm still in the mood for.
Here are some of the many pictures taken at my house on Christmas. Sadly, we didn't bring our cameras to the club. Or maybe not so sadly, depending on one's perspective. This was definitely the booziest and most lingerie filled of my Christmases to date (everyone asked everyone else for "something sexy" for the holidays--apparently here women buy each other underwear all the time, because men are too embarrassed to do so). I didn't get any underwear, though I did recently have the not to be mised experience of trying on bras (to figure out what size I am in this system) in an open air bazaar in 20 degree weather. Anyway, enough about underwear, and on to the pictures.
It's hard to tell, but this gorgeous table is set on the floor. Not because I don't own tables, but because here you party on the floor. I had decorations all over the apartment, too, but they don't really come out in the pictures. The tiny little tea cups were for booze, although after Elina, Asel and I had split our bottle of wine and Anara had made a bit of the dent in the cogna I bought for her, somehow the champagne was swigged out of the full sized glasses.
E actually made me stand back up and pose for this picture when I was already down on the floor getting ready to serve. Apparently it was a very important pic to take. I like it, I think I look a little Mad Men retro chic, housewife style. But in Kyrgyzstan.
Yeah, somehow we ended up with tons of pictures of the chicken and not a single one of my not quite traditional apple pie. Next time. At least now I know that they are possible despite locally imposed limitations. And I was told that it tasted just like America, because of all the cinnamon. That's right, y'all, America tastes like cinnamon. Be grateful, it could be so much worse.
I cropped this picture of me with E because I had yet to put on my stockings, and the sheer expanse of blinding white that is my legs can be a little disturbing, especially when compared to all the golden skinned beauties surrounding me. But you should know that E has been my salvation here in KG--she has introduced me to my other (local friends), and she is constantly proving herself a true friend in a really non-flashy way. She's good people.
OK, so this series of pictures quickly devolved. Here we're showing our Kinder Chocolate (have I written about my obsession with delicous/totally gross Kinder Chocolate before? The stuff is a wonder, and it's all over not-America, so the next time you go to not-America, be sure to get some), but there are lots of pictures of the gift opening. Some of them involve lingerie over clothes, and then there are the ones of Asel and I licking the eggs, which, just don't even bother asking.
So, yeah, my Kyrgyz Christmas: non-traditional but lovely. New Year's Eve is going to involve a whole lot less of the dressing up and eating and drinking and so on, and more of the hanging around with friends, which is more like a normal day and the only kind of celebrating I'm still in the mood for.
Holiday Update
Sorry for the silence, y'all. I am once again online, though still without a cell phone.
My Christmas drastically improved after I wrote the last post. I'll post pics at some point, but basically I spent the whole day either sleeping or cooking, two of my favorite things, and then my friends came over and we ate, drank, and exchanged gifts.
We then headed out to a local club, because what is Christmas without a few vodka and Red Bulls, anyway? I came home to a house without electricity, as they've been turning it off between midnight and 6 lately. KS called slightly before 8 on the morning after, which normally would be a reasonable time, but given that I had crawled to bed only a few hours before after dancing all night and meeting a bunch of Kyrgyz rappers and producers (um, yeah), etc., so I did little more than croak confusedly at her.
So maybe not a traditional Christmas, but a merry one nonetheless. We'll see what the New Year brings--it's usually a holiday spent with family, but for various reasons all of the members of my normal group will be in Bishkek, so we'll be hanging out together. I don't think it's a get all done up and go out holiday the way it is at home, though.
I hope you all had a Merry Christmas, too!
My Christmas drastically improved after I wrote the last post. I'll post pics at some point, but basically I spent the whole day either sleeping or cooking, two of my favorite things, and then my friends came over and we ate, drank, and exchanged gifts.
We then headed out to a local club, because what is Christmas without a few vodka and Red Bulls, anyway? I came home to a house without electricity, as they've been turning it off between midnight and 6 lately. KS called slightly before 8 on the morning after, which normally would be a reasonable time, but given that I had crawled to bed only a few hours before after dancing all night and meeting a bunch of Kyrgyz rappers and producers (um, yeah), etc., so I did little more than croak confusedly at her.
So maybe not a traditional Christmas, but a merry one nonetheless. We'll see what the New Year brings--it's usually a holiday spent with family, but for various reasons all of the members of my normal group will be in Bishkek, so we'll be hanging out together. I don't think it's a get all done up and go out holiday the way it is at home, though.
I hope you all had a Merry Christmas, too!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Merry Christmas . . . ?
I must say, my holiday is not off to a roaring start. While unsuccessfully trying to meet people for bowling last night, I lost my cell phone. My new home internet isn't working, so I'm currently in an internet cafe alerting people to my home number so no one freaks out when a strange guy named Kuba answers my phone. I do not have to go to Almaty tomorrow, but I also can't go anywhere else, as I am currently entirely without a passport while the embassy works its magic or whatever it does. So, yeah. I think I'm going to go home, where at least the power is back on (they turned it off last night for the first time since early November, which means winter has REALLY started), have some tea and breakfast, and then go back to bed before I get up and try to tackle a pie in a Central Asian oven with Central Asian ingredients.
I hope everyone else's Christmas (yeah, that's right, I'm ignoring all the non-Christians) is off to a great start and continues along those lines. And tomorrow I should have pictures to post of my celebration--friends come at 7, and we head out to some random night club after dinner--it's pretty interesting to watch what people who don't really have any concept of Christmas as a holiday turn it into when made to celebrate it.
I hope everyone else's Christmas (yeah, that's right, I'm ignoring all the non-Christians) is off to a great start and continues along those lines. And tomorrow I should have pictures to post of my celebration--friends come at 7, and we head out to some random night club after dinner--it's pretty interesting to watch what people who don't really have any concept of Christmas as a holiday turn it into when made to celebrate it.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Forest, Trees
I've been a little caught up in the near impossibility of getting medications to me here, and other concerns were temporarily forgotten. A month ago, I traveled to Almaty to get another temporary visa that the embassy here could then extend for the rest of the year. I was then told that the first thing was to apply for an ID card, and then after that was done and in the last week of this visa, they could then extend it.
I then forgot all about it, thinking I would hear about my ID card and then could deal with the visa thing. It's a good think I remembered an hour or so ago and checked out my visa, as it turns out it expires on Friday. Ooops. Needless to say, I hadn't heard anything about my ID card or anything else of the sort, so I just sent another "urgent" message to the embassy, asking what I'm supposed to do. I'm horribly afraid that the answer is "go to Almaty and get another temporary visa" which means I need to get a Kazakh visa and cross the border by midnight on Friday. Of course, my friends are not currently in Almaty, so then I will have to get a hotel for the weekend, get my return visa on Monday, and come back Monday night. I'm THRILLED, let me tell you. Although at least I could do a drug run at the same time.
Sigh.
I then forgot all about it, thinking I would hear about my ID card and then could deal with the visa thing. It's a good think I remembered an hour or so ago and checked out my visa, as it turns out it expires on Friday. Ooops. Needless to say, I hadn't heard anything about my ID card or anything else of the sort, so I just sent another "urgent" message to the embassy, asking what I'm supposed to do. I'm horribly afraid that the answer is "go to Almaty and get another temporary visa" which means I need to get a Kazakh visa and cross the border by midnight on Friday. Of course, my friends are not currently in Almaty, so then I will have to get a hotel for the weekend, get my return visa on Monday, and come back Monday night. I'm THRILLED, let me tell you. Although at least I could do a drug run at the same time.
Sigh.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
DJ Smash and Creepy Cat Heads
UPDATE: Edited to add in some links to the disturbing videos in question. The first is pretty NSFW.
I am pretty obsessed with my 3 Russian music channels, plus the English language Asian music channel that we have half the time (the rest of the time it's a movie channel). The ridiculously bad music and pornographic images form the background noise of most of my day as I fuss around the apartment and work in my "office space" which is actually just my couch with a table in front of it.
But there is one video that I quickly learned to dread, and it has since been joined by another of its ilk. Possibly the most popular video currently is "Volna" by DJ Smash. I could deal with the really graphic food/porn imagery, but then there's this part where everyone is singing all seriously and heartfelt-like while the camera pans out to reveal additional singers and then one of them has this HUGE, SCARY, SUPER CREEPY CAT HEAD and then the next one is some guy in some military uniform. It obviously doesn't look real or anything, but it looks like it might if for some reason you were building a giant animatronic cat, and it freaks me out beyond words. Like, everytime I hear the opening chord to this song, I now turn it off, because the damn cat head makes me so uncomfortable.
And now, there's another DJ Smash video getting lots of air time (Moscow Never Sleeps or something like that), and there is another, different, giant creepy cat head. The first one is a tabby, and this one is black and white. Also, the damn thing plays piano, so you get a really good look at it, and while it is on a human body, the hands are all furry, too. This one isn't quite as awful as the first, as the head is slightly more in proportion to the body, but seriously, I was near tears. I just cannot deal with giant creepy cat heads, it appears, a fear I might have lived all my life without ever discovering if it were not for DJ Smash and his sick video visions.
I am pretty obsessed with my 3 Russian music channels, plus the English language Asian music channel that we have half the time (the rest of the time it's a movie channel). The ridiculously bad music and pornographic images form the background noise of most of my day as I fuss around the apartment and work in my "office space" which is actually just my couch with a table in front of it.
But there is one video that I quickly learned to dread, and it has since been joined by another of its ilk. Possibly the most popular video currently is "Volna" by DJ Smash. I could deal with the really graphic food/porn imagery, but then there's this part where everyone is singing all seriously and heartfelt-like while the camera pans out to reveal additional singers and then one of them has this HUGE, SCARY, SUPER CREEPY CAT HEAD and then the next one is some guy in some military uniform. It obviously doesn't look real or anything, but it looks like it might if for some reason you were building a giant animatronic cat, and it freaks me out beyond words. Like, everytime I hear the opening chord to this song, I now turn it off, because the damn cat head makes me so uncomfortable.
And now, there's another DJ Smash video getting lots of air time (Moscow Never Sleeps or something like that), and there is another, different, giant creepy cat head. The first one is a tabby, and this one is black and white. Also, the damn thing plays piano, so you get a really good look at it, and while it is on a human body, the hands are all furry, too. This one isn't quite as awful as the first, as the head is slightly more in proportion to the body, but seriously, I was near tears. I just cannot deal with giant creepy cat heads, it appears, a fear I might have lived all my life without ever discovering if it were not for DJ Smash and his sick video visions.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Geek, Proof
There have been moments in my life during which I have managed to fool gullible individuals, for a short time, into believing that I am totally cool and fun and possibly even sophisticated (at least somewhat well-traveled) and intelligent. Then, of course, they always learn eventually that actually I am just a big lame geek. Some of them in turn are also revealed to be big, lame geeks, and these are those I like to call "friends for life" (you know who you are!!!).
But just in case any of you are ever caught off guard by a funny or relevant or somehow non-totally geeky comment or action, remember my tale of this day:
I just lost half an hour of my day. I was sitting on my couch in my very (actually, too warm, I have to leave windows open) warm apartment, which contrasts nicely with the inch thick layer of ice on all the sidewalks and drifts of snow elsewhere (more to come tomorrow!) and studying my Kyrgyz greeting and parting phrases (Kandaisan? Ortochon--How are you? So-so.). Then I started thinking about the insanely dangerous road conditions, my general clumsiness, and the length of the winter here. Of course, just thinking about it aimlessly wasn't enough, so I actually started working out the range of falls I can expect given different assumptions about parameters.
It went like this: If we assume a probability of falling of x falls for every 50 (0r 25 or 100 or whatever base number you like), and I walk an average of y km per day, and we expect wintry conditions to abate by z date, leaving us with t days left in the season of ice and snow, how many times will I fall this year?
As the probability of falling is independent of whether I have ever fallen before, you add all the probabilites contained in the date range and use this to predict the actual falls. So, for example, if you assume that I have a 1 in 50 chance of falling (which basically works out to assuming that, on average, I fall once every 50 km, at least this time), and I walk an average of 2 km per day, and the winter lasts until early March, then I will fall a minimum of twice this winter.
And then I worked this out for other values. And then I realized what I was doing, stopped, and yet immediately told you about it. So, yeah, I'm going to fall at least twice but probably no more than ten times this winter (and even 10 times would be pretty unlikely), which sounds about right. The moral of the story is twofold, 1: don't be a pedestrian in Kyrgyzstan in the winter time, especially not one with a peculiarly structured back, and 2: a little bit of pretend math is a dangerous thing.
But just in case any of you are ever caught off guard by a funny or relevant or somehow non-totally geeky comment or action, remember my tale of this day:
I just lost half an hour of my day. I was sitting on my couch in my very (actually, too warm, I have to leave windows open) warm apartment, which contrasts nicely with the inch thick layer of ice on all the sidewalks and drifts of snow elsewhere (more to come tomorrow!) and studying my Kyrgyz greeting and parting phrases (Kandaisan? Ortochon--How are you? So-so.). Then I started thinking about the insanely dangerous road conditions, my general clumsiness, and the length of the winter here. Of course, just thinking about it aimlessly wasn't enough, so I actually started working out the range of falls I can expect given different assumptions about parameters.
It went like this: If we assume a probability of falling of x falls for every 50 (0r 25 or 100 or whatever base number you like), and I walk an average of y km per day, and we expect wintry conditions to abate by z date, leaving us with t days left in the season of ice and snow, how many times will I fall this year?
As the probability of falling is independent of whether I have ever fallen before, you add all the probabilites contained in the date range and use this to predict the actual falls. So, for example, if you assume that I have a 1 in 50 chance of falling (which basically works out to assuming that, on average, I fall once every 50 km, at least this time), and I walk an average of 2 km per day, and the winter lasts until early March, then I will fall a minimum of twice this winter.
And then I worked this out for other values. And then I realized what I was doing, stopped, and yet immediately told you about it. So, yeah, I'm going to fall at least twice but probably no more than ten times this winter (and even 10 times would be pretty unlikely), which sounds about right. The moral of the story is twofold, 1: don't be a pedestrian in Kyrgyzstan in the winter time, especially not one with a peculiarly structured back, and 2: a little bit of pretend math is a dangerous thing.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Ramblings of a Reluctant Insomniac
I think I may need to retitle this blog "Ramblings from a Reluctant Insomniac" or something similar. The sleeping meds have run out, with no official replacements imminent. Luckily, a friend is going to Almaty in January, and while I know they don't carry my particular brand of poison, they do stock a substitute that is close enough for me. Prescriptions are not so much required here, so buying a bunch of pills for a friend is not a big deal in any legal sense, the way it probably would be at home. But for the next 3 weeks at least, I can count on some variations on the 2 days up, 1/2 day down, rinse, repeat cycle, unless I get lucky. Of course, it's not like al of this not sleeping I do makes time free for other things--no, mostly I get to get stressed about how I'm not sleeping, and then I stay awake but my brain goes pretty completely dead and I'm good for nothing but lying around and moaning. I do think some pretty interesting thoughts, though, so that's an upside, I suppose.
Anyway, tonight was the fancy Fulbright dinner that none of us knew was happening because no one at the embassy likes to inform people of anything. The 6 people here involved in any of the FB-affiliated programs were invited to dinner at the Deputy Chief of Mission (we don't have an ambassador here) residence. We met the DCM, his wife, and a few other embassy people. It was nice, but I do have a tendency to always say the wrong thing in gatherings like this. Mostly because most of my brain is occupied by wishing that I were elsewhere, like pantsless on my couch watching Flight of the Conchords. I realize there is no profession ever, anywhere, that lets one completely forego the arcane ritual of "networking," but I sure wish there were. I'm pretty sure I don't get paid enough to have to make nice over dinner, although, all in all, everyone was very nice and it was far less excruciating than events of this nature tend to be. I always do have to remember that I'm supposed to be super grateful for the opportunity of something like FB. I mean, I am grateful, but I had other options. I just took this one for the name recognition, and bc it was for a longer period of time than any one of the others, and one organization wasn't super keen on me combining. So I guess I don't feel the overpowering sense of gratitude I'm supposed to, and instead I grouse about how miserably we are paid considering all the things that need to come out of that pay. I guess if you're in a field where you don't have to talk to anyone, you don't really need to worry about transcription, etc., and that takes out a lot of money, and if your work is concentrated in Bishkek where pretty much everyone speaks Russian, then that's a way to save money, too. So maybe I should just find a more cost effective research topic and methods, and then my stipend will start to feel pretty luxurious.
So, yeah, that's the news from here: no sleep, still anti-social, and now it is finally getting for real cold, so I'm sure to have something else to complain about the next time I write.
Also, all you people who share my boot woe: how do you deal with this? It is now the time of year when I pretty much have to wear boots all the time, and while some of my drug weight does appear to be wearing off under the benign influences of fewer drugs and Central Asian diet and exercise regimes, they still do not zip all the way up. Suggestions?
Anyway, tonight was the fancy Fulbright dinner that none of us knew was happening because no one at the embassy likes to inform people of anything. The 6 people here involved in any of the FB-affiliated programs were invited to dinner at the Deputy Chief of Mission (we don't have an ambassador here) residence. We met the DCM, his wife, and a few other embassy people. It was nice, but I do have a tendency to always say the wrong thing in gatherings like this. Mostly because most of my brain is occupied by wishing that I were elsewhere, like pantsless on my couch watching Flight of the Conchords. I realize there is no profession ever, anywhere, that lets one completely forego the arcane ritual of "networking," but I sure wish there were. I'm pretty sure I don't get paid enough to have to make nice over dinner, although, all in all, everyone was very nice and it was far less excruciating than events of this nature tend to be. I always do have to remember that I'm supposed to be super grateful for the opportunity of something like FB. I mean, I am grateful, but I had other options. I just took this one for the name recognition, and bc it was for a longer period of time than any one of the others, and one organization wasn't super keen on me combining. So I guess I don't feel the overpowering sense of gratitude I'm supposed to, and instead I grouse about how miserably we are paid considering all the things that need to come out of that pay. I guess if you're in a field where you don't have to talk to anyone, you don't really need to worry about transcription, etc., and that takes out a lot of money, and if your work is concentrated in Bishkek where pretty much everyone speaks Russian, then that's a way to save money, too. So maybe I should just find a more cost effective research topic and methods, and then my stipend will start to feel pretty luxurious.
So, yeah, that's the news from here: no sleep, still anti-social, and now it is finally getting for real cold, so I'm sure to have something else to complain about the next time I write.
Also, all you people who share my boot woe: how do you deal with this? It is now the time of year when I pretty much have to wear boots all the time, and while some of my drug weight does appear to be wearing off under the benign influences of fewer drugs and Central Asian diet and exercise regimes, they still do not zip all the way up. Suggestions?
Monday, December 15, 2008
Wedding Memories
OK, for those of you who don't read the comments on here, I have to move these to a regular post:
It's still warm, which is nice, as the later it gets without going below freezing, the less time there is for winter to devolve to the 20 below horror stories of last year I keep hearing. Of course, then I remember that everyone is speaking in Celsius, so when you translate to Farenheit, it's really not that bad.
My Kyrgyz lessons seem doomed. It's a little frustrating. I need to just start learning it myself. My friends will generally make an effort to speak Russian in front of me, but often wander in and out of Kyrgyz without even noticing that they're doing it, and then I'm expected to respond to a conversation that I did not at all understand. It's also weird to me how easily people who grow up speaking multiple languages just switch back and forth with no apparent cognitive effort. I always end up stranded in this weird middle ground between English and Russian where I can't actually speak either one. I like to blame it on my late start learning Russian, not the fact that I'm a moron who is also too lazy to learn a foreign language. At least I'm just living up to the stereotype of Americans here (too dumb to learn another language).
Um, that's it. Among my talents is the ability to take any situation, no matter how adventurous (like living in Kyrgyzstan) and turn it into something incredibly dull. It's just like how I can turn any situation awkward with just one mistimed comment.
I get to pick up my 3rd box at the embassy in the morning, which has me kind of worried, because my second box still has yet to arrive and may be a sacrifice to the Kyrgyz mail gods. I hope that they'll be able to tell me something about my drugs, but not all that hopeful. It's like Kyrgyzstan exerts a powerful time-altering force that acts on everyone and everything within its borders, making it actually for real impossible for anything to get done in a standard amount of time. Including any work on my dissertation. I need to remember that the rest of the world is still working on standard time and so might consider the six weeks I've already been here to be sufficient to have accomplished something. At least I'm not traveling much for the holidays, so I won't have that big vacation time out and resettling.
So, yeah, wedding memories anyone? I was pretty wasted from the margarita machine when I realized that "Joey" wouldn't work so well, so the whole thing has gone a little hazy for me.
It's still warm, which is nice, as the later it gets without going below freezing, the less time there is for winter to devolve to the 20 below horror stories of last year I keep hearing. Of course, then I remember that everyone is speaking in Celsius, so when you translate to Farenheit, it's really not that bad.
My Kyrgyz lessons seem doomed. It's a little frustrating. I need to just start learning it myself. My friends will generally make an effort to speak Russian in front of me, but often wander in and out of Kyrgyz without even noticing that they're doing it, and then I'm expected to respond to a conversation that I did not at all understand. It's also weird to me how easily people who grow up speaking multiple languages just switch back and forth with no apparent cognitive effort. I always end up stranded in this weird middle ground between English and Russian where I can't actually speak either one. I like to blame it on my late start learning Russian, not the fact that I'm a moron who is also too lazy to learn a foreign language. At least I'm just living up to the stereotype of Americans here (too dumb to learn another language).
Um, that's it. Among my talents is the ability to take any situation, no matter how adventurous (like living in Kyrgyzstan) and turn it into something incredibly dull. It's just like how I can turn any situation awkward with just one mistimed comment.
I get to pick up my 3rd box at the embassy in the morning, which has me kind of worried, because my second box still has yet to arrive and may be a sacrifice to the Kyrgyz mail gods. I hope that they'll be able to tell me something about my drugs, but not all that hopeful. It's like Kyrgyzstan exerts a powerful time-altering force that acts on everyone and everything within its borders, making it actually for real impossible for anything to get done in a standard amount of time. Including any work on my dissertation. I need to remember that the rest of the world is still working on standard time and so might consider the six weeks I've already been here to be sufficient to have accomplished something. At least I'm not traveling much for the holidays, so I won't have that big vacation time out and resettling.
So, yeah, wedding memories anyone? I was pretty wasted from the margarita machine when I realized that "Joey" wouldn't work so well, so the whole thing has gone a little hazy for me.
Friday, December 12, 2008
This is NOT a State Department Sponsored Site
We just got a reminder email about responsible use of internet resources while on a U.S. government-sponsored sponsorship, so I would like to make clear to any of you who may be confused that the contents of this blog (and its existence) are not in any way endorsed by or known of by the US Department of State. I know, it's shocking, but this is not an official government mouthpiece.
So, say, when the comments talk turns to how I need to use more heroin, this does not mean the US State Department promotes heroin use. Uh, nor do I, of course.
Also, I think I am supposed to be responsible about what I post (that was kind of vague), and I'm not supposed to trash the host country.
I should also make clear that my insurance company is not so much being obstructionist about the drugs (although not responding to emails might be construed that way) as the mail situation in Kyrgyzstan makes sending hundreds of dollars worth of drugs, some narcotic-like, through the postal service somewhat problematic.
In a not-totally-unrelated turn of events, instead of a spa weekend with friends at Issyk-Kul, New Years plans now involve a flight to Osh and the traditional family celebrations (not with my family, obviously, I hope). N moved to Germany and A has to work, so E, An and I are heading to their hometown and doing the the whole Southern party thing. I say not-totally-unrelated because going to Osh gets me a whole bunch closer to Afghanistan and poppies, should my medical situation dictate a stop-off for some heroin/heroin-producing materials.
Remember, kids, the US government says DON'T DO DRUGS.
So, say, when the comments talk turns to how I need to use more heroin, this does not mean the US State Department promotes heroin use. Uh, nor do I, of course.
Also, I think I am supposed to be responsible about what I post (that was kind of vague), and I'm not supposed to trash the host country.
I should also make clear that my insurance company is not so much being obstructionist about the drugs (although not responding to emails might be construed that way) as the mail situation in Kyrgyzstan makes sending hundreds of dollars worth of drugs, some narcotic-like, through the postal service somewhat problematic.
In a not-totally-unrelated turn of events, instead of a spa weekend with friends at Issyk-Kul, New Years plans now involve a flight to Osh and the traditional family celebrations (not with my family, obviously, I hope). N moved to Germany and A has to work, so E, An and I are heading to their hometown and doing the the whole Southern party thing. I say not-totally-unrelated because going to Osh gets me a whole bunch closer to Afghanistan and poppies, should my medical situation dictate a stop-off for some heroin/heroin-producing materials.
Remember, kids, the US government says DON'T DO DRUGS.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Brilliant or Insane?
I now have photographic evidence for a whole life that Miki has created for me and my landlady (and am feeling well enough to post it). In it, we are total BFFs, as are our partners, Christopher Eccleston/Doctor Who and John Barrowman/Captain Jack*. John Barrowman's sexuality may not precisely align with Miki's, but the Captain isn't so picky so it all works out.
You've already seen me with my beloved at our own wedding, but here we are at the wedding of our friends (not Miki and John/Captain, they're not sure if they want to be so bourgeois).
Here are Miki and John/Captain, looking smoking hot as they always do.
Here's my imaginary husband after running a marathon, supported as always by his best friend.
And here are my favorites: last fall we all went to a pumpkin fest in Illinois and had a wonderful time--pumpkin picking, corn maze, hayride and all!
*The role of imaginary husband and M's BF were almost played by Nathan Fillion and Adam Baldwin, who also happen to be sexy spacemen, among other accomplishments. While I'm always happy to marry the man who plays Captain Hammer, I'm glad we went with this arrangement, as I got first dibs, whereas Miki called Baldwin before I could get to him.
You've already seen me with my beloved at our own wedding, but here we are at the wedding of our friends (not Miki and John/Captain, they're not sure if they want to be so bourgeois).
Here are Miki and John/Captain, looking smoking hot as they always do.
Here's my imaginary husband after running a marathon, supported as always by his best friend.
And here are my favorites: last fall we all went to a pumpkin fest in Illinois and had a wonderful time--pumpkin picking, corn maze, hayride and all!
*The role of imaginary husband and M's BF were almost played by Nathan Fillion and Adam Baldwin, who also happen to be sexy spacemen, among other accomplishments. While I'm always happy to marry the man who plays Captain Hammer, I'm glad we went with this arrangement, as I got first dibs, whereas Miki called Baldwin before I could get to him.
Welcome to the Family, Doctor Who
We have a winner, courtesy of Miki and her excess time. I'm sorry you all had to miss the wedding, but just look how pretty I was, even if the skin on my face is a totally different color than the rest of me. Spray tan tragedy or something.
The best part is is that there is a whole series of me and Christopher Eccleston/The Doctor and Miki and John Barrowman/Captain Jack. Like, I can get one of those collage frames and have a photo tribute to our love and friendship prominently displayed.
So, while my brother in law in an apron was a worther runner up, I really had to go with the ingenuity and flair that allowed me to marry a super hot time traveling alien.
It turns out that I wasn't up all night last night with just normal insomnia and stress, I was up all night with a steadily increasing fever! I've been pretty vilely ill all day and haven't moved much from my bed (which is my excuse for not posting the rest of the pics now. You really have to see them). So I didn't get to the dentist, but I'm slowly improving, and hope to be able to get to my first Kyrgyz lesson tomorrow. Or at least to stand up without moaning and keep down liquids.
The best part is is that there is a whole series of me and Christopher Eccleston/The Doctor and Miki and John Barrowman/Captain Jack. Like, I can get one of those collage frames and have a photo tribute to our love and friendship prominently displayed.
So, while my brother in law in an apron was a worther runner up, I really had to go with the ingenuity and flair that allowed me to marry a super hot time traveling alien.
It turns out that I wasn't up all night last night with just normal insomnia and stress, I was up all night with a steadily increasing fever! I've been pretty vilely ill all day and haven't moved much from my bed (which is my excuse for not posting the rest of the pics now. You really have to see them). So I didn't get to the dentist, but I'm slowly improving, and hope to be able to get to my first Kyrgyz lesson tomorrow. Or at least to stand up without moaning and keep down liquids.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Husband Hunt Update
I think we may already have a winner, but if you are good with PhotoShop or have random pics of me with strange men, please send them in. Do I have permission to post all entries on this site? As usual, I will not identify by name anyone who does not want to be so identified (e.g., if you repeatedly refer to yourself as Tom, I will call you Tom instead of T O'D, but had you not done so, we would only know you by initials. And that would be sad for all of us, because knowing Tom makes everyone better).
Anyway, aside from my husband hunting ways, life is good. I got my first box of books through the diplomatic pouch today, and I assume the second will arrive shortly, since I mailed them on the same day. I start my Kyrgyz lessons on Friday with a teacher about whom I have a good feeling. I'm at the stage of language re-acquistion where I realize how horrible my Russian is and notice every mistake, so I speak worse now than I did two weeks ago, but I know it's just a stage, and in a month I'll be doing really, really well. But right now I'm not doing so hot in any language, English included, and adding Kyrgyz to the mix could be a challenge. But since my friends, despite their inherent good manners and efforts to stick to Russian in front of me out of politeness often swerve back and forth between Russian and Kyrgyz without even knowing it, I think overall it will help.
I'm having kind of a bad situation with my medication, for a number of reasons, including instrangience on the part of the insurance company. Given mail issues and the high resale value of some of the meds I need to receive, it's also not good idea to have them sent to my address through the normal post. I went to the embassy today to beg for ideas, and of course all the FB people (from everywhere, including DC) are at a FB conference in India. They are seeking permission to let me use the diplomatic pouch, but the nature of some of my medications may make that illegal. They are also trying to find local substitutes for me, which would honestly be the best situation, even though I'd be charged out of pocket. I'm up late, all sleepness (because I'm out of sleeping drugs, natch), working on this stuff, because with the insurance delays and a month being the earliest I could possibly expect anything through the dip pouch, this could turn into quite a problem.
But other than that all is well. The books on my shelves make me happy, and I'm looking forward to a weekend of lying around and enjoying them. That will be interrupted by a Saturday trip to a bazaar for my remaining home needs, and then I will make chili for some very skeptical friends. If I could make corn bread, I feel like I could win them over, but corn meal is not available here and I can't think of any other chili side dishes. I found cheddar cheese, but it is a Kirkland (so, from Sam's Club or somethng) block and runs about $35 for the package, which is kind of just nuts. So they may have to be content with sour cream as a toppping.
Look for the runners up and winners in the get Tricia a husband contest. Also send me, please, the absolutely most adorable pics of your kids or of me (with you, prefereably), as I plan to save these all to a disk and take to one of the local photo print shops to print out and decorate with.
Tomorrow I'm sure to sleep late due to being up at an ungodly hour, but I see a local dentist in the afternoon about the broken tooth. We shall see how that will go.
Anyway, aside from my husband hunting ways, life is good. I got my first box of books through the diplomatic pouch today, and I assume the second will arrive shortly, since I mailed them on the same day. I start my Kyrgyz lessons on Friday with a teacher about whom I have a good feeling. I'm at the stage of language re-acquistion where I realize how horrible my Russian is and notice every mistake, so I speak worse now than I did two weeks ago, but I know it's just a stage, and in a month I'll be doing really, really well. But right now I'm not doing so hot in any language, English included, and adding Kyrgyz to the mix could be a challenge. But since my friends, despite their inherent good manners and efforts to stick to Russian in front of me out of politeness often swerve back and forth between Russian and Kyrgyz without even knowing it, I think overall it will help.
I'm having kind of a bad situation with my medication, for a number of reasons, including instrangience on the part of the insurance company. Given mail issues and the high resale value of some of the meds I need to receive, it's also not good idea to have them sent to my address through the normal post. I went to the embassy today to beg for ideas, and of course all the FB people (from everywhere, including DC) are at a FB conference in India. They are seeking permission to let me use the diplomatic pouch, but the nature of some of my medications may make that illegal. They are also trying to find local substitutes for me, which would honestly be the best situation, even though I'd be charged out of pocket. I'm up late, all sleepness (because I'm out of sleeping drugs, natch), working on this stuff, because with the insurance delays and a month being the earliest I could possibly expect anything through the dip pouch, this could turn into quite a problem.
But other than that all is well. The books on my shelves make me happy, and I'm looking forward to a weekend of lying around and enjoying them. That will be interrupted by a Saturday trip to a bazaar for my remaining home needs, and then I will make chili for some very skeptical friends. If I could make corn bread, I feel like I could win them over, but corn meal is not available here and I can't think of any other chili side dishes. I found cheddar cheese, but it is a Kirkland (so, from Sam's Club or somethng) block and runs about $35 for the package, which is kind of just nuts. So they may have to be content with sour cream as a toppping.
Look for the runners up and winners in the get Tricia a husband contest. Also send me, please, the absolutely most adorable pics of your kids or of me (with you, prefereably), as I plan to save these all to a disk and take to one of the local photo print shops to print out and decorate with.
Tomorrow I'm sure to sleep late due to being up at an ungodly hour, but I see a local dentist in the afternoon about the broken tooth. We shall see how that will go.
Monday, December 08, 2008
Reader Contest
Tom, Miki, and Rie have thrown some interesting comments into the mix. Unable to decide for myself who would make the best imaginary husband, I invite all readers to look for pictures of me looking happy with random men, or create such images. The winner will have given a face to my imaginary husband, a face that will be printed and framed and displayed prominently in my new home. You may also name him if you like.
I don't really have anything to offer to the winner of this contest. So the winner can think up his or her own prize, as long as it is feasible and legal. I'm sure I should place other constraints on it, given the nature of some of my readers, but that's all I can think of for now. It's another holiday in Kyrgyzstan and a long weekend of unparalleled laziness has made me stupid.
I await your photographic entries.
I don't really have anything to offer to the winner of this contest. So the winner can think up his or her own prize, as long as it is feasible and legal. I'm sure I should place other constraints on it, given the nature of some of my readers, but that's all I can think of for now. It's another holiday in Kyrgyzstan and a long weekend of unparalleled laziness has made me stupid.
I await your photographic entries.
Friday, December 05, 2008
(Imaginary) Husbands Certainly Have Their Uses
I'm all tucked up and cozy in my new apartment, drinking tea from a new tea set and watching TV in my home for the first time in over a month. An issue that took a month and remained unresolved in my old apartment was dealt with on my first day in this one. Now I have access to CNN, BBC, and all the semi-pornographic Russian pop videos I can watch (The latter serve a surprisingly useful pedagogic tool--the words are so simple that even though sung they are easily understood and remembered. Plus I can reflect on how Americans are so comparatively prudish).
So I'm enjoying my new home, which I got only with the help of my new (imaginary) husband. I've long had to pull out a variation on him for excessively nosy cab drivers, but apartment hunting gave him a whole new life. Young, female, foreign renters are the holy grail for landlords here, as we are thought to be less likely than single men to smoke, drink, and bring home lots of women, and as foreigners it is thought less likely that we will try to pack the apartment with lots of roommates to cut down our share of the rent. The only issue is whether our character is good enough to deserve an apartment, or something like that. There is a surprising amount of time and effort that goes into subliminally letting people know that I am not a scary American whore out to score as many orgies with as many innocent locals as possible while I am here. E.g., local professional standards of dress would not be appropriate in any context in the US, in some cases, but locals can get away with the occasional see through shirt and tight miniskirt. If I, however, were to dress provocatively, I would just be confirming what everyone suspects about me anyway. Now that I have a husband, however, he is likely to be able to control my raging American sexuality (women here are supposed to be hot, so as to be objects of sexual desire, but to certainly not be at all sexual themselves, which I think contributes to the whole idea of American women as whorish threats), despite the lack of his phyiscal presence.
He's also useful for negotiating. I'm supposed to be paying $400 for this apartment. My husband, however, really wanted me to be able to rent a place that would cost $400 for EVERYTHING, including all utilities except internet. So now I pay quarterly and pay $370. It's a little more than he wanted, but really he just wants me to be happy, and so told me it was fine to pay a little extra for a nice place that makes me feel at home. He's so generous. It is really his money, after all.
I also got stuff like extra bedding and so on, so I have it available, just in case my husband does get to come for a visit. Right now it's rather doubtful, as he works in some undefined capacity that gives him little vacation time, and tickets are so expensive and we have to save money to start a family (that was totally not my addition to this little fiction--all I did was answer "yes" when asked if I am married, and he totally took on a life of his own). I have a feeling he will prove himself useful in other ways, although he could be a liability as well. Like, he might frown on me dating. We'll have to see.
I'm all sleepy and yawny and stretchy in the Saturday morning way, despite not having done much to earn it. A new friend of mine left early this morning for a year at least in Germany (when I went to Almaty this wasn't even a possibility, when I got back 5 days later, it was all set), and I totally flaked on going to the airport. I had an early dinner with a new FB-associated American in town (who totally understands my enduring love of Before Sunrise!) and went home to nap for an hour or so before going to another friend's house around midnight. I felt a migraine coming on, and pretty much the only possible non-medical way for me to stop one is to catch it early, take a really hot shower, and sleep for as long as possible, so that's what I did. I figure that while I really like N, I've known her only a few weeks, and she had plenty of other long-time friends there to see her off (it's common for big parties to go to the airport when people go on long trips here).
I can't tell if it's going to be a gray day or if the sun is just taking a while to reach my windows. The answer will probably determine the course of my day, although either way it will be spent on home improvement. I want to go shopping at the Dollar Store and RamStore for food and things for the house, but Ram STore is a bit of a walk, so I may save it. I'll shop if I can work up the energy after my shower, otherwise I'll finish unpacking and organizing, all to the strains of Russian pop in the background.
So I'm enjoying my new home, which I got only with the help of my new (imaginary) husband. I've long had to pull out a variation on him for excessively nosy cab drivers, but apartment hunting gave him a whole new life. Young, female, foreign renters are the holy grail for landlords here, as we are thought to be less likely than single men to smoke, drink, and bring home lots of women, and as foreigners it is thought less likely that we will try to pack the apartment with lots of roommates to cut down our share of the rent. The only issue is whether our character is good enough to deserve an apartment, or something like that. There is a surprising amount of time and effort that goes into subliminally letting people know that I am not a scary American whore out to score as many orgies with as many innocent locals as possible while I am here. E.g., local professional standards of dress would not be appropriate in any context in the US, in some cases, but locals can get away with the occasional see through shirt and tight miniskirt. If I, however, were to dress provocatively, I would just be confirming what everyone suspects about me anyway. Now that I have a husband, however, he is likely to be able to control my raging American sexuality (women here are supposed to be hot, so as to be objects of sexual desire, but to certainly not be at all sexual themselves, which I think contributes to the whole idea of American women as whorish threats), despite the lack of his phyiscal presence.
He's also useful for negotiating. I'm supposed to be paying $400 for this apartment. My husband, however, really wanted me to be able to rent a place that would cost $400 for EVERYTHING, including all utilities except internet. So now I pay quarterly and pay $370. It's a little more than he wanted, but really he just wants me to be happy, and so told me it was fine to pay a little extra for a nice place that makes me feel at home. He's so generous. It is really his money, after all.
I also got stuff like extra bedding and so on, so I have it available, just in case my husband does get to come for a visit. Right now it's rather doubtful, as he works in some undefined capacity that gives him little vacation time, and tickets are so expensive and we have to save money to start a family (that was totally not my addition to this little fiction--all I did was answer "yes" when asked if I am married, and he totally took on a life of his own). I have a feeling he will prove himself useful in other ways, although he could be a liability as well. Like, he might frown on me dating. We'll have to see.
I'm all sleepy and yawny and stretchy in the Saturday morning way, despite not having done much to earn it. A new friend of mine left early this morning for a year at least in Germany (when I went to Almaty this wasn't even a possibility, when I got back 5 days later, it was all set), and I totally flaked on going to the airport. I had an early dinner with a new FB-associated American in town (who totally understands my enduring love of Before Sunrise!) and went home to nap for an hour or so before going to another friend's house around midnight. I felt a migraine coming on, and pretty much the only possible non-medical way for me to stop one is to catch it early, take a really hot shower, and sleep for as long as possible, so that's what I did. I figure that while I really like N, I've known her only a few weeks, and she had plenty of other long-time friends there to see her off (it's common for big parties to go to the airport when people go on long trips here).
I can't tell if it's going to be a gray day or if the sun is just taking a while to reach my windows. The answer will probably determine the course of my day, although either way it will be spent on home improvement. I want to go shopping at the Dollar Store and RamStore for food and things for the house, but Ram STore is a bit of a walk, so I may save it. I'll shop if I can work up the energy after my shower, otherwise I'll finish unpacking and organizing, all to the strains of Russian pop in the background.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Need to Know
OK, folks, I don't want to guilt trip anyone, but I think some of you need to hold up your end of our deal a little better. You didn't know we had a deal? Well, maybe I just made it up, but you're decent folks and will honor it anyway.
The deal is this: I update this blog frequently, which allows you to check in on my wellbeing and hear some stories without being subjected to mass emails all about my spiritual renewal as I revel in the true nomadic nature of the Kyrgyz or some other crap. In exchange, you periodically let me know what is going on with you, as well as assure me that you still adore me, even if you don't see me or talk to me as often. I'm needy, too!
Basically, I am requesting more letters or calls (letters; calls are expensive). I want to know the mundane details of people's lives, much as I over share the boring details of mine. I'm at the point of traveling where I always start to get homesick, because it's a month in, and I realize that I really have no idea what is going on in the day to day of everyone's lives. Did Miki ever see the architect again? Is he more attractive on second viewing? What is Moses's job situation like? Did Tom accept the England job? Has he found me one yet? What parts are various small children playing in various holiday performances? What do they want for Christmas (that can be purchased on Amazon)? Are we doing the traditional sibling Christmas gift thingy this year?
I know you all are busy, and most of you are good about sending emails when you can, but I am greedy, and I WANT MORE. Tell me what you want in exchange, and we'll negotiate.
In other news, today is moving day, so I keep getting up and taking a piece of luggage or a bag over to the new place, which is literally a 3 minute walk away. It's the easiest moving day ever. Soon I am going shopping, as one of my friends is moving to Germany this weekend. It happened very quickly--I was in Almaty, when I got back, she had accepted a job offer in a legal dept for some org, and leaves in two days for at least a year. She is a friend of a friend, but part of the group I have been hanging out with, and from what I know of her she is pretty awesome (very funny and irreverent), so she will be missed. Anyway, she has lots of stuff to take care of before leaving, and today involves, I believe, boot shopping. I'm looking too, because I have a feeling that the furry lined boots everyone sells here might have some use during the upcoming winter.
The deal is this: I update this blog frequently, which allows you to check in on my wellbeing and hear some stories without being subjected to mass emails all about my spiritual renewal as I revel in the true nomadic nature of the Kyrgyz or some other crap. In exchange, you periodically let me know what is going on with you, as well as assure me that you still adore me, even if you don't see me or talk to me as often. I'm needy, too!
Basically, I am requesting more letters or calls (letters; calls are expensive). I want to know the mundane details of people's lives, much as I over share the boring details of mine. I'm at the point of traveling where I always start to get homesick, because it's a month in, and I realize that I really have no idea what is going on in the day to day of everyone's lives. Did Miki ever see the architect again? Is he more attractive on second viewing? What is Moses's job situation like? Did Tom accept the England job? Has he found me one yet? What parts are various small children playing in various holiday performances? What do they want for Christmas (that can be purchased on Amazon)? Are we doing the traditional sibling Christmas gift thingy this year?
I know you all are busy, and most of you are good about sending emails when you can, but I am greedy, and I WANT MORE. Tell me what you want in exchange, and we'll negotiate.
In other news, today is moving day, so I keep getting up and taking a piece of luggage or a bag over to the new place, which is literally a 3 minute walk away. It's the easiest moving day ever. Soon I am going shopping, as one of my friends is moving to Germany this weekend. It happened very quickly--I was in Almaty, when I got back, she had accepted a job offer in a legal dept for some org, and leaves in two days for at least a year. She is a friend of a friend, but part of the group I have been hanging out with, and from what I know of her she is pretty awesome (very funny and irreverent), so she will be missed. Anyway, she has lots of stuff to take care of before leaving, and today involves, I believe, boot shopping. I'm looking too, because I have a feeling that the furry lined boots everyone sells here might have some use during the upcoming winter.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Moving Again
I hate moving. I do it all the time, but I really, really hate it. My three biggest dreams/goals in life are to avoid any involuntary time in a Central Asian prison, tenure, and a condo or townhouse that I get to paint any color I want and yet have someone else do all the yard work (and cleaning, too, if we're dreaming big).
Anyway, after a month of bitching and moaning and general indecisiveness about my apartment, I spent yesterday and today slogging all over town looking at other places that I can mostly afford and mostly stand. Given my price range, many trade-offs are required. Like crappy location vs crappy apt vs. size vs. furnishing, etc.
I settled on a place literally two doors down from me. Right now I'm in Bokonbaeva 3, and I'm moving to Bokonbaeva 7. It's a little closer to a main road, so any nighttime travel does not involve as much running from the car to the door with my keys out threatening to gouge the eyes out of anyone who emerges from the shadows (no one has yet). I'm also on the first floor, which means my thews of steel are not to be. But the place is the slightly bigger than this one, way better furnished, and actually clean. Not clean in that yes, it has been cleaned recently by a hopeless woman in a torn brown coat and fingerless gloves with a mop in her hand a dead look in her eye but will remain forever gray and dingy, but clean in that way of look! new white wallpaper on the walls! Including no waterstains. And no mysterious smells emanating from the neighbors through the bathroom. Yet, at least.
Most important of all, it has a bed. A real, live, actual bed made to fit a normal person or two (I think I may spread out as I sleep, as there is no bed ever made that I do not expand to use all of while sleeping). One with a mattress like the ones you all sleep on every night. No box spring, of course, but let's not get ahead of ourselves here. You have no idea how hard it is to find an actual adequate bed here. I do, because I looked at 6 apartments today and yesterday (plus the 3 from before) and this is the first I've seen in an apartment in my price range. The others all have the torture device I'm stuck on now, couches that fold out, or the teeny tiny little wooden box beds of Soviet times pushed together to pretend they're a real bed.
And telling my current landlady was nowhere near the drama I was expecting. So that's good. I move tomorrow, and my new rent is about $25 more/month than I pay here, but, again, drapes, a real bed, and no bathroom haunts. Right now I'm making something stew like (I am soliciting stove top recipes: you know where to send them!), packing (which is so much easier when you are limited to two suitcases and your purchases over the past month), and treating the neighbors to an old school medley including Bon Jovi, GnR, George Michael, Heart, Blondie, Journey, Poison, Concrete Blonde, and so on, all sung in the vocal stylings of one yours truly.
Oh, and I'm stuck in the new place, since I'm getting a discount for paying three months at a time. So even if I want to, I can't move until March, so there's no point in complaining until Feb at least.
Anyway, after a month of bitching and moaning and general indecisiveness about my apartment, I spent yesterday and today slogging all over town looking at other places that I can mostly afford and mostly stand. Given my price range, many trade-offs are required. Like crappy location vs crappy apt vs. size vs. furnishing, etc.
I settled on a place literally two doors down from me. Right now I'm in Bokonbaeva 3, and I'm moving to Bokonbaeva 7. It's a little closer to a main road, so any nighttime travel does not involve as much running from the car to the door with my keys out threatening to gouge the eyes out of anyone who emerges from the shadows (no one has yet). I'm also on the first floor, which means my thews of steel are not to be. But the place is the slightly bigger than this one, way better furnished, and actually clean. Not clean in that yes, it has been cleaned recently by a hopeless woman in a torn brown coat and fingerless gloves with a mop in her hand a dead look in her eye but will remain forever gray and dingy, but clean in that way of look! new white wallpaper on the walls! Including no waterstains. And no mysterious smells emanating from the neighbors through the bathroom. Yet, at least.
Most important of all, it has a bed. A real, live, actual bed made to fit a normal person or two (I think I may spread out as I sleep, as there is no bed ever made that I do not expand to use all of while sleeping). One with a mattress like the ones you all sleep on every night. No box spring, of course, but let's not get ahead of ourselves here. You have no idea how hard it is to find an actual adequate bed here. I do, because I looked at 6 apartments today and yesterday (plus the 3 from before) and this is the first I've seen in an apartment in my price range. The others all have the torture device I'm stuck on now, couches that fold out, or the teeny tiny little wooden box beds of Soviet times pushed together to pretend they're a real bed.
And telling my current landlady was nowhere near the drama I was expecting. So that's good. I move tomorrow, and my new rent is about $25 more/month than I pay here, but, again, drapes, a real bed, and no bathroom haunts. Right now I'm making something stew like (I am soliciting stove top recipes: you know where to send them!), packing (which is so much easier when you are limited to two suitcases and your purchases over the past month), and treating the neighbors to an old school medley including Bon Jovi, GnR, George Michael, Heart, Blondie, Journey, Poison, Concrete Blonde, and so on, all sung in the vocal stylings of one yours truly.
Oh, and I'm stuck in the new place, since I'm getting a discount for paying three months at a time. So even if I want to, I can't move until March, so there's no point in complaining until Feb at least.
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What I remember most from your wedding was the dreamy look he gave you when he lifted your veil. Swoon! Well, that and the cake. Damn, you had good cake. I know you were iffy on including the conga line, but it was such a good excuse to put my hands on the groomsmen. Ah the memories!
11:31 PM
Well, of course we had good cake. I took a strictly hands off approach to wedding planning, only weighing in on vital topics, like the menu and the absolute necessity of a margarita machine (to facilitate the conga line/groping, of course).
I am a little sad that I did not get to live out my one lifelong wedding fantasy: the only wedding dream I've ever had is to marry a man named Joseph, so I can get really drunk, wrestle the microphone out of the DJ's hands, and bellow "Joey" by Concrete Blonde to him. Sigh. Next time, I suppose.
7:17 AM
I've never seen a cake shaped like the Tardis before. I felt sort of guilty eating it, and then I wondered if I'd absorbed the Time Vortex, and if so, whether it would be OK to kiss your groom (I didn't, and I didn't).
The best part though? Meeting Jacob. I'm so glad he made it to the wedding!
11:55 AM