Into the mountains

Greetings! My summer’s winding down to an end and school starts on Tuesday. I’m excited and of course a little nervous. Think about it: I’m a new foreign teacher in a school where I don’t speak much of the language or know the kids or most of the staff. I don’t know the schedule, the rules, the norms, the disciplinary code, the curriculum, or the expectations. The potential for awkwardness is off the charts! And: who will I sit with at lunch?! Get excited. (disclaimer: it’s not entirely true that I don’t know any of these things… Peace Corps has trained me to be a teacher, after all. Still. It’s daunting.)

I have so many things to show and tell you about but as usual I can’t keep up with the rate I’m taking pictures. I’ll post more soon but for now I’ll tell you about this time I had a picturesque and lovely mountain expedition to a shepherd’s tent (yesterday).

I was at a celebration at my cousin’s house a couple of weeks ago and met the delightful Medina. She teaches English in a village about two hours away from me and invited me to come for a visit. Of course, I took her up on it. I think about 500 or 600 people live in her village. She’s 24, like me. She takes care of the house, her husband, her two children, a mother-in-law, various relatives, teaches at the school, cooks every meal, cleans the house, washes all the dishes and all the laundry, and serves tea to any guest who might stop by. And does it all while smiling and giggling. I was at her house and neighbors kept coming over. I said something like “Oh, it’s nice that all the neighbors are so close,” and she said, “You’re the first American that’s ever been in our village before so people are curious and want to come look at you.” Which is great, but so many people visited that we didn’t leave the house until like three hours after I got there. Which is funny because she called me at 6:30 am to make sure I’d be there plenty early.



We trekked out a few hours to this shepherd’s tent, way behind the village in the mountains. From June to October, a family of five lives here and watches over various people’s grazing sheep and cows. They bring everything they need from the village on horseback. Including their little baby.



Inside the tent:


They cook all their meals on this little wood-burning stove. No refrigerator, no problem. Just keep things in the shade.



They’re responsible for 360 sheep and 60 horses. “How can you tell them apart?” I asked. Everyone laughed. “Of course the owners know what their own sheep look like,” someone said. Oh, right.





My host cousin’s mother’s sister’s daughter-in-law’s husband’s cousin’s father-in-law and his cute grandson. Unfortunately I forgot their names. But points for knowing how they’re related to me? I was sort of quiet for a while and then started explaining something about America in Kyrgyz. His eyes got SO big.



Fermented mare’s milk called kumuz is one of the national drinks.



The shepherd’s wife (I forgot her name) milks the mare every two hours or else it will dry up, she says. Each time, she only gets about a cup of milk out of each mare. Then she pours it into a canister and beats it with a special stick. “How often?” I asked. “Anytime I am not doing something else.” Okay, so, a lot.



Allegedly it guarantees instant diarrhea to unacquainted stomachs so I only tried a few sips. I don’t need any extra help having diarrhea; I am doing pretty well on my own, thanks. Tasted sour and bitter.



Milk a horse: check. But I’ve still never milked a cow.



The shepherd’s tent from a little further up.



And a little further up… the white speck in the valley is the tent.



Medina has lived in this village for six years and had never made the three-hour trek out into the mountains to see this view of the lake! I said, “Thanks for taking me out here,” and she said, “Before, I haven’t time, and I haven’t a reason. Thanks for giving me a reason.” She also gave me the most charming compliment: “Karen, you have no bad sides.”



Medina’s sister, who lives in the capital, had never been out here either.




Maybe I am posting too many mountain pictures on this blog but I can’t help it. I am absolutely blown away by them and until that feeling subsides you will have to look at my mountain pictures.