I have had the incredible luck of having a second amazing host family in my international wanderings. I am the Bishenbaeva’s 6th Peace Corps volunteer, and their experience shows. My three host sisters, Alena (17), Kalema (22) and Czarina (25) speak impeccable English and my host apa (mom) has Kyrgyz TEFL talk down to a science. They are overly generous, respect my personal space and time, and are positively the most jovial family I’ve met in the village. Apa regularly dissolves into fits of giggles from Ata and Alena’s jests, as have I as I’ve learned more Kyrgyz (or Alena kindly translates). I have fond memories of one of our first meals when Ata accidently twisted the English expression “Oh my gosh” into “Oi, gamash!” which roughly translates in Kyrgyz as “Oh! My long underwear!”
The members of the household at any given time are very fluid. Alena, who graduates from high school next week, has been my constant companion. Her sister Kalema goes to university in Bishkek from Monday-Thursday, then returns home for weekends. Their elder sister Czarina lives with her husband and 3-year-old son just in the next village over, but lived with the family through the winter to save on heating costs. She studied English in North Dakota for her “12th year” of high school. (Here they only go to 11th grade, but she did an extra year as an American senior.) Her English and university degree from the American University of Central Asia landed her a nice job at a nonprofit in Bishkek, where she now works. The first night, her 3-year-old, Umar, performed an incredible rendition of a Kyrgyz rap, which he had learned just from watching the music video (which played in the background). As the often bragged-about rap seems to suggest, he’s the darling grandchild of the family and terrible spoiled (but oh so adorable).
My host brother (26) lives with his wife and 2-year-old daughter in Bishkek part-time (he drives a taxi there), and otherwise brings the family to stay here in the village. Because his wife is the only daughter-in-law, she gets stuck with all the household chores when she’s here (but in my defense, she shoos me away when I try to help).
Add to this fluid immediate family, the constant extended family/guests we have in and out. This past week alone, we had my host father’s younger brother, wife, and 2-year-old daughter, my host mother’s mother and one of her sisters, her husband, and their teenage son staying with us. At any given meal, it’s anyone’s guess who from the extend family—or neighbors—will show up without warning. But like in PNG, there’s always enough food.
Our farmhouse is built of thick white-washed cement walls that keep heat in in the winters and out in the summers. The trim is a very becoming Grecian sky blue. I have my own room in the main house (which is divided into 3 sleeping rooms (including a converted winter kitchen) and a long formal dinning area/additional sleeping quarters. In the adjacent building, we have a summer kitchen and living room. In the back, we have stables that now house only a cow and three sheep (which bleat like whinny 3-year-olds). I’m told that last year before Ata sold them all to pay for his travel to work in Russia, they had a flock of 55 sheep, 8 cows, and a horse or two. I’m not clear on the details, but somehow, he wasn’t paid, so he’s now back farming—but without his animals. Apa’s twice-daily naan baking supplies loafs for the local stores, and appear to be the majority of the home’s income. I will be terribly sorry to leave this family tomorrow as I move onto my permanent site for the next two years. But like their last volunteer, I have every intention of coming back to visit often.
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