Too Many Thoughts

My mother once told me that all my problems are caused by my thinking too much about everything. I'm . . . not entirely sure about that, but it's one theory, I suppose. Anyway, at the moment I have too many thoughts about possible things to write about, so instead I will compose a brief list.

1. Living in Kyrgyzstan is fantastic for lowering expectations, and I mean that in a good way, actually. Life owes you nothing, and everything good that happens is a total bonus. I had friends in this week from Almaty--American citizens, although one is originally from Kazakhstan, and they have lived around the region for years, including a year in Dushanbe. They've been to Bishkek many times before, but the years of living in Almaty have clearly gotten to them. We were walking back to my home after dinner, basically through the heart of the city on a Friday night, and of course there were no streetlights and the sidewalks are a joke of broken concrete, gravel, gaping holes, large stones, and so on, making walking far more deadly than if, say, there were dirt paths. Such is life in Bishkek! Also: I just bought a pair of fairly decent walking shoes in London in May and I have almost walked through the sole on the left one. It's a good thing it's almost time for boots, because I'm not sure how I will get around when they quit on me, and you can only buy quality here if you want to pay around four times the going rate in Europe or the US.

2. Which brings me to my grand shopping triumph of today. I do not spend a lot of time in souvenir shops. They are kitschy and I do not need anything they have--I figure I will run in and pick up a bunch of gifts for the kids before I leave, and none of the rest of you have any earthly use for felt slippers or toy yurts. My friend wanted hats for her mother and mother in law, and disdaining the wares in the first, traditional souvenir shop, we stumbled upon the new "Tumar Art Salon." They sell alot of the stuff that traditional souvenir shops sell, Kyrgyz products of wool felt and silk, mostly, but really well made and while with a definitive Kyrgyz feel to them, stuff that one would actually wear because it is cute, and not because it's better than a tag that reads "Ask me about Central Asia!" I bought an adorable violet hat with a wide upturned brim with a vine pattern in lighter violet. It's my fall hat, since it totally doesn't go with my winter coat, but oh well. I really wanted a silk and wool scarf I saw for the very reasonable price of about $30 given the quality of the product, but held off. They also have gorgeous jewelry, mostly silver with semiprecious stones, all made by local artists, and again, very reasonably priced (probably more than I would spend in the US, but as souvenirs? Totally worth it). I want to go back and buy everything. And if anyone reading this would like a gift from Central Asia, let me know, because now I actually know where to go to get a gift worth giving.

3. I know really cool people. To highlight just one, an old friend of mine is currently working on pretty much the definitive bibliography on Jack Gilbert. A limited edition set will be signed by Jack Gilbert, who has mild dementia, and all proceeds go toward his health care. This friend is then starting in on the collected correspondence of Jack Gilbert--these projects are both labors of true love of poetry, basically. If a person can in any way be judged by the company she keeps, given that this is just one example of the different types of fascinating and wonderful people I have in my life, then I am TOTALLY AWESOME. But I think we knew that already.

4. In Kyrgyz I just learned how to say stuff like "my mother's friend's dog." Basically, in Kyrgyz, there are a few words, and then you just add suffixes to everything to make meanings. So a phrase like the above turns into a monster that covers two lines of the classroom whiteboard. This language is HARD. And you have to get the first endings right for the rest of them to make any sense. Most languages (that I know anything about)have two forms of "you," one informal and singular and one that serves as both the plural form and the formal form (tu/vous in French, ty/vy in Russian, etc.). Kyrgyz has an informal singular, a formal singular, informal plural, and formal plural. The latter two utterly confound me and I can NOT get the endings straight. So anything I try to say that has either of those pronouns in or implied in the sentence ends up totally screwy, as I start out off the rails and then keep on going. Man, why doesn't everyone just learn English anyway?

5. This week was rough. In a "Hmm, getting out of bed appears to be more than I can manage today" kind of way. Those weeks happen. I still don't have a cell phone, but I did make it to 2/3 of my classes, and I didn't totally flake on my out of town friends even though today that meant slogging through the pouring rain to get to them. So I think we'll call this week a draw, and will spend tomorrow preparing for next week, which I have a cautiously good feeling about.

6. Seriously, my violet hat is So. Adorable. I'm having a hard core hat phase right now, and really just want to buy and wear hats. I sent an email to my mom asking about her millinery skills and if she's up for hat making in December (I have already warned her to clear her schedule of any other sewing projects, as I must have clothes hand tailored to my body, despite never having bothered to learn to make my own), and haven't received a reply. Perhaps because I sounded INSANE. But yeah, at the moment, all I want in life is to swan around in ever increasingly divine (and probably bizarre) hats: think "Ascot Gavotte" in My Fair Lady and that's pretty much my life dream for now.

7. Associated with number 5? Not sleeping. I read somewhere that depriving prisoners of sleep for 36 hours or more is one of the ways in which we torture detainees, since America is apparently a country that tortures now. I am not denying the horror of that kind of treatment especially in the greater context of detention and torture, but that's like every other Tuesday for me. Apparently at the 36 hour cut off your brain goes crazy in some ways (uh, I should look for what I read, because I am explaining this very badly and stupidly). Maybe that explains the parts of my life that otherwise defy rational explanation: sleep deprivation is to blame for all the ridiculous choices I make. Anyway, right now I am soooooooooooooo tired, as if you could not tell by the lack of sense I am making in this very long post--I've been talking at this speed for about the past 24 hours straight--and I'm really hoping to have a good night of sleep tonight, followed by a lazy day of tea and study and novel and TV tomorrow.