Coming Home is Not the Same

Every year when I leave to go away on winter vacation I play this silly game with myself about how few clothes can I wear to run out and find a taxi to the airport. Considering the temperature was about -15 when I left, it is rather ridiculous to going running out first thing in the morning with no hat, no gloves, no boots… just a t-shirt and a light fleece jacket. But the alternative is being strapped with a heavy wool coat in your luggage while laying on the beach. Normally the anticipation of beautiful sunshine and warm weather is enough to ward off frostbite during the unpredictable hunt for transportation. The dream of the beach and warm sand blocks out the unpleasantness of frozen toes and an icy nose. But the way home is just awful.

This year my traveling companions and I had mixed up our return dates. We thought we had one more day to enjoy the relaxation of a Thai message, we were dreaming of what our final meal was going to be, we were planning how we could extract every last moment of fun from our vacation, only to realize we had to leave a day earlier if we were going to drive down to Bangkok and make our flight on time. This disappointment of a lost day, and the ever increasing chill in the air as we headed north didn’t do much to excite me upon my return. It is a not hard to run through the streets when you're freezing but spurred on by great expectation of what is to come… it is a lot harder to retrace those same frozen footsteps when the only thing to drive me onward is knowledge of more winter to come.

All that to say I made it home safely!

Perfect on a Cold Day

There is nothing like a steaming hot bowl of noodles to warm you up when it is freezing outside.

Morning sounds

This morning, before my alarm went off, before I had opened my eyes or even fully woke up, I knew it had snowed last night. While I still lay all tight and snuggled in my blankets I could hear the all to familiar “crashing, clanging, and banging” sounds of snow being cleared from the school yard next door. It was barely 6:30 am, but already students were arriving and grabbing their brooms, shovels and pickaxes to attack the white layer that covered their play area. I hate the disturbance it caused to my morning sleeping plans, but at least by the time I head out much of the ground will be clear and safe to walk on.

Hospitality is Selfishness

Hospitality as selfishness may seem a contradiction to many people’s views on manors and propriety, but there are some days I can’t help but think it is the reason why people really open their home and invite others to join them. Sure there are several stresses that go into the role of hostess, from planning a meal to making sure the house is clean. But these tasks can all be done from the quietness of home with soft relaxing music playing in the background enhancing the pleasure of the task.

The guest, however, must brave the outside world in order to fight their way to the predetermined location. At times these travels can seem arduous for all involved. You must find the right bus stop, stand and wait, run with the crowd to board the proper bus, push your way aboard, stand packed like sardines for more stops than you can count, listening to the garbled sound of the intercom system announcing each stop at a decibel that breaks the acceptable noise levels of public places, guard your belonging from pick-pockets and the like, walk in extreme temperatures from the place where the bus stops to where your friend actually lives, buy fruit or some sort of appropriate hostess gift by haggling over the price, toting said purchase of several kilos up numerous flights of stairs, all the while trying to look pleasant and put together in order to smile your greeting to the host.

The longer the visit lasts the more one’s mind becomes distracted with thoughts of returning home. Will the buses still be running? Will I be able to get a taxi? How many blocks will I have to walk before some form of transportation will become availed? This nervous preoccupation with the return journey can often start to sour the end of the evening.

The host merely puts on music, whips down the table, washes a few dishes and heads to bed, selfishly enjoying the fact that they never had to leave the comforts of their own home.

Okay, so today was the first snowfall of the year and I might be a little bitter at having had to go outside and face the snow and ice covered streets.

You're Too Old to Not Be Married

I left the tour group I was translating for to play basketball and I slowly moved over to some steps that I could sit down on. I was stiff and tired after a long day of wandering around and bargaining, my weariness showed as I lowered myself onto the stair. Before finally dropping all my weight I did nod at the family who was already occupying the steps and quietly muttered a question asking to join them. They nodded their accent and I gladly took a break for a minute. I could overhear the family discussing me, but lacked the energy to engage them or even correct their preconceived notions.

"Do you think she is a foreigner?"

"She can't be, she asked in Uyghur if we would mind if she sat down."

"No. she didn't say anything when she sat down."

"Yes she did, she looked right t me and asked to sit down."

"Then she must be Uzbek because she doesn't look like she is from here."

After a few minutes one of them finally got brave enough to just ask me, at that point even my tiredness won't let me be rude enough to fake lack of understanding when asked a direct question. After setting them straight on where I was from, what I was doing here, and where I learned their language, the mother asked me the most surprising question.

"When are you due?"

I stared at her blankly not really understanding the question, at least not understanding how it related to me.

"You are expecting aren't you?" she asked again.... only this time she used a euphemism that literally means to have heavy feet. (which didn't seem to fit seeing as I barely weigh 95 pounds right now).

She tried one more time "aren't you pregnant?"

"No" I said with a bit of a nervous laugh, "I'm not even married".

"Not married?! How old are you?"

"31"

"We're the same age" announced the mother as her 13 year old son slid closer to hear my response. He wasn't the only one drawing closer, I noticed the crowd had grown from the original family to include may curious passerbyers.

I tried to defend myself a little. "Well in my culture a lot of people don't get married until they are 30-35. In fact my older brother just got married for the first time a couple of months ago. So I still have plenty of time."

Everyone in the crowd started shaking their heads at me, I am still not sure whether it was out of pity or shame. "Not here," said a voice from behind me. "girls get married when they are 17-19".

"I got married when I was 15" said the mom "I have a son older than this one."

"You'll be too old to have kids."

"There won't be any men left to marry."

"Don't your parents want grandchildren, I was a grandmother by the time I was 36".

The comments kept coming at me. I tried to laugh them off and enjoy the fact that a group of 30 some odd people where that anxious to offer an opinion on my life choices. I did notice a police or two eavesdropping at the back of the crowd, but they did nothing to break up the ever increasing amount of people who seemed to disapprove of my life.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Have you ever been married?"

"Do you at least have a boyfriend?" The calls were coming from further back, and I could only imagine the story that was being circulated through the mass of people for the benefit of those who came late. The next thing I saw was the throng of people dispersing very suddenly. I looked up and noticed that the riot police armed with their wooden bats had marched right up to the crowd and was attempting to force people to move along. I looked them in the eye and sincerely apologized. "I am sorry officer, we were all just chatting. They were asking me about my life in Canada". I could tell once the police had seen what was in the middle of the large group, they too were interested in stopping to ask questions, but their sense of duty prevailed and before you know it I was able to slip out of the park and head back to my hotel for a real rest. The group of tourist had mainly watched from the outside. They said they had been worried when they saw the riot police enter the park and march with purpose right over to where people had been mulling around me. Talk about things to be thankful for, I am so glad that I was not dragged down to the station for another long conversation about my marital status, insulted and told I look fat like a pregnant lady or even worse.

Guess Who is Coming to Town?

Christmas is right around the corner and hints of it are starting to pop up all around town. I know our simple displays here are nothing compared to the Malls decked out with lights and glitter, bells and tinsel in theWest, but they do tend to have their own unique spin to the holiday. Whether it is the English corner kids telling me that Christmas is great because it is Santa’s birthday.

OrNasreddin Ependy Santa who travels around bringing Christmas cheer on his faithful donkey,

Even Finding Nemo underwater Santa, who swims around with his snorkeling mask on and wish all the fish a Merry Christmas.

This year a new Central Asian Christmas mistake was added to the unusual ways that this place understands one of our biggest holidays. I was at our local version of Wal-Mart, listening to them play Christmas Carols over the loud speaker when I started to pay attention to the lyrics. The song “Santa Clause is coming To Town started into its little known second verse with a triumphal declaration that:

“You better watch out, you better not cry,
You better not pout I’m telling you why
Jesus Christ is coming to town.
He’s making a list and checking it twice,
Go’na find out who’s naughty and nice
Oh Jesus Christ is coming to town.”

Finally something to really get me into the Christmas mood.

Points for Texting

A great way to demonstrate friendship and care for people out here is to send a text message. The more flowery and over top the language the more you vaule the person.

On Korban I sent all my friends a message simply wishing them a "Happy Korban Heyt" I got points for remembering to send them a message, but I forgot to make it over the top with beautiful language. They sent me back messages that basically said

"May the great Allah bless you with Grace, Peace, Faithfulness Love and Hope on this beautiful and Holy day of Korban"

Yesterday I saw my opportunity to once again send my friends messages that demonstrate I not only understand the culture I live in, but also show how much I like them. The weather finally turned the corner from a crisp fall to a bitter winter wind. I need to upgrade to my winter coat and so I quickly grabbed my cell phone and wrote a text.

"Dear friend, the weather has turned cold, winter is here. Please remember to wear more clothing and take care of yourself."

It was so sickly sweet I almost chocked on the words as I typed them in. Personally I hate these rebukes to wear more clothing. I easily overheat and don't like to wear to many layers, but I have learned it is a very local way to scold someone lovingly.

My friends texted me back expressing their appreication for my care:

"Thank you my lovely friend for thinking of me. I was moved by your text and cried at how much you care."

Not Over Yet

I was going to write a post the other day about the coming of spring and the melting of the snow... but considering this is what I woke up to this morning, I think it is a good thing I waited.
The weight of last night's snow fall even caused tree limbs to break off. I guess winter is going to be here for a little longer.

Black Lungs and Tight Abs

Winter is here. The coal dust is thick in the air and thick in my lungs. But you know what they say: every cloud has a silver lining. It has taken me three years to find the silver lining to my annual winter hacking cough that develops as a result to the bad air condition, but I have finally found it; tight abs. Yes all the coughing and sputtering is better than any crunches, sit-ups or gym membership. The bright side of coal dust is keeping in shape.

More Insight on Underwear

Today in class I experientially got more insight as to why local people wear so many layers. Our classroom was freezing. In fact my teacher and fellow classmates don't even bother to take off their coats any more. They spend the whole four hours of class time bundled up tight enough to go sledding. I just can't do that. It is too hard to sit comfortably for that many hours with my winter stuff on. But if the heat inside is going to be that ineffective I can understand a little better why people might need extra layers.

The average classroom here is nothing more than cement floors and walls, nothing fancy and nothing warm about it. These pictures were taken in the summer, but they do represent the average classroom here.

Goodbye Mountains, see you in Spring

Our annual pilgrimage into darkness has begun. The mountains and backdrop of the city is fading into the haze. The city I live in is surrounded by large mountains that can be seen from all over town, or at least in the spring. I was walking down the street today and realised I could no longer see any of them. The coal haze has gotten too thick. It is time for them to make it snow and clean out the air.

Long Underwear Fashion Show

When it gets cold here people pull out their long johns. It makes every one look like they have gained several pounds since all of their pants fit tightly. Underneath everything there are two or three pairs of long underwear. This layered looked makes a person comfortable when they are outside in the frigid cold, but makes it a little too toasty when they come inside. That is why stripping is considered totally appropriate. Not only do people take their shoes off at the door they sometimes take their pants off too.

Yesterday our teacher came over for dinner and to watch a movie. After we had finished eating my classmate invited her to get comfortable to watch the movie (she meant grab a pillow or feel free to put your feet up on the bed and stretch out), our teacher looked relieved at the invitation and stripped off her skirt. I guess it was too tight with all her pairs of tights on underneath, she was also getting pretty warm.

Another time I went to visit my friend’s home, it was the first time I was going to meet her parents, and she assured me they were very excited about the visit. When I arrived my friend greeted me at the door wearing her long johns, but it wasn’t just her both of her parents were walking around the house the same way. It was hard work keeping a straight face throughout my visit as her dad sat across from me wearing purple long underwear.

A few years ago when my room flooded the older Uyghur guy who lives a few doors down came to give me a hand. He helped me scoop water for three hours, the whole time wearing nothing but matching top and bottom stripped pink, green, and blue long underwear. While I was thankful for the help, it was a little too much information about my neighbour.

In this way I am not doing the best at enculturating myself. I still refuse to wear any long underwear. In my mind it is a ten minute walk to class I would prefer to be cold for ten minutes and comfortable for the four hours I am in class, or any time I am inside. Needless to say I get told hundreds of times a day, and in a variety of languages that I am wearing too little, that my clothes are too thin. Well I might be wearing too little, but at least I am wearing real clothes. For your sake I am choosing to not include pictures with this blog. I think I have created enough of a mental long underwear fashion show, that we can skip the real thing.

Eating for Ears

Winter is now upon us and locals believe that on the first day of winter or the shortest day of the year it is important to prepare for the cold that is coming. One way they get ready for the winter is by eating dumplings. They think the dumplings resemble the shape of your ear. The line of reasoning goes that if you eat enough dumplings on the first day of winter you can protect your ears from falling off in the cold. You will be pleased to know that I ate enough to keep my ears in place for another year.

You should ask my family about eating dumplings. I took them out to my favorite dumpling place when they were here last year. I ordered 50 to start figuring we could order more if we needed them. I know I ate at least 20- 25 of them, and the rest of the family only finished about 12 all together. I guess it is an acquired taste. My only warning is wear a hat this winter, because if you didn't fill up the other day..... Who knows where your ears will be come spring.

I Have a Dream

The middle of the winter is cold and dark. One of the things that helps get me through is the knowledge that over winter vacation I have to go for further schooling in Thailand. I dream of when I will trade in the the cold, dark, coal dust polluted days for the bright sunshine of summer.



from this...

to this

Only one more month and counting.

Black Hands

One of the most satisfying things about living out here in the winter is washing your hands. As I have mentioned before ever single surface gets covered with a layer of coal dust, your hands are not exempt. As I use hand railings in staircases, or touch things for sale on the street my hands also get covered in it. There is nothing more satisfying than coming home and washing them (okay I guess if I actually had warm water to wash in that would be a little more satisfying) just watching the dust and dirt and grim drip off and get washed away. The end result is fresh, white, clean hands.

The coal dust does not only turn my hands black it turns everything black. I often keep a tea set set out on the table so that I can serve guests when they come over, however now I have to dust it every day.

Worst of all is the white snow. I am listening to Christmas music as I type and all of the songs are about white Christmas’ white winter wonderlands, but not here. This is what the coal dust does to the snow just a few days after it has fallen.


Pretty isn’t it.


And that is one of the offending coal piles that I use to look out at, when I lived at my old school.

Cleaning the snow

I know I have written on this topic in the past in my emails and letters, and I am sure I will mentioned it again in the future, but every year when the snow first arrives I am always amazed at what a great equalizer it is.

The day after the snow stops falling the pounding, scraping and shouting begins. Every business is responsible for clearing the snow from in front of their shop, not only the side walk but also the road. You will see ladies from fancy dress shops out in their high heeled shoes with a pick axe in their hands, working next to the butcher who still has blood on his apron and a shovel in his hand. Every business sends all but one of its workers outside. The whole street becomes alive with the sites and sounds of snow removal. It is like a street party with a purpose. The buses stop running and everyone joins in. Even on our campus each class (except of the foreign students, thankfully) is assigned a portion of side walk or road that they have to clean off).

It is funny because in Uyghur the verb for shovelling is actually cleaning the snow. And it sometimes seems like that is what they are doing. Today when I was out for a walk I saw a guy trying to shovel off the snow using a big over sized broom. I really can’t say how successful he was with his tool, but he was cleaning the snow.



The first day after it snows is also special for other reasons, it is one of the few days in the winter that we are blessed with clear skies and white snow. The falling snow does a lot to clean the pollution out of the air. The snow is white for all of a few days before it is covered with a light layer of coal dust that make it look black. I better enjoy it while I can.

If it never snows than what do you call the white stuff falling from the sky?

As some of you might already know I am looking into the possibility of moving next semester and teaching English. My friends I left on Wednesday night to make a trip down to the school to check it out and talk with officials. Thankfully we where able to take the train instead of the dreaded sleeper bus.

On Wednesday we where overwhelmed with our first snow fall of the year. Instead of just a few flurries… it dropped buckets. I was excited to be headed south to the edge of the dessert and escaping the winter furry that had been unleashed. When the guy meet us at the train station on Thursday morning ( it is a 13hour train trip) we where pleased to see that the sky was clear, the trees still had some of their fall leaves hanging on, and there was no slipper white stuff covering the ground. We asked our host from the school how often in snows in this part of the country, and he assured us it didn’t. Buy the time we left the meeting at about 6pm it had started raining, and after a little supper, the rain drops where starting to look a little fluffier and a little whiter.

The next morning when we woke up the ground was covered with the slushy type of slipper snow. Our host blamed us for bringing it with us from the capital city, but in reality winter is just here. We took the bus back this morning and found out that it has now been snowing for four days straight. Everything is covered in the white winter wonder land.

Wet Blanket

About this time of year many different indicators of the cold weather start to appear. Today, for instance was the hanging of the blankets. For some reason, that is still unknown to me, almost every building hangs these heavy green blankets in their door ways. These green blankets often get wet from the snow and rain, and in the dead of winter they freeze solid.

Since I am not the strongest person in the world I don’t always push them hard enough out of my way, and then the wet blanket swings back and hits me in the face, trust me once they freeze over, it kind of hurts. The other weird thing is that you can’t see through them, so you never know if someone else is coming or going in or out of the door. This often leads to collisions. I know they hang the blankets to keep the cold out, but if they would just close the existing doors (that only swing one way, and have windows so that you can see on coming traffic) a lot of pain and inconvenience could be avoided.




Okay so this is not the most interesting post in the world. But after just one day of having the blankets back in the doorways I have already crashed into two people who were exiting the building I was trying to enter.

Heat!

The heat has finally come. For the last week and a half I have been constantly cold whenever I am at home. The outside temperatures have actually been warmer than my room. Because of the cement walls and the tile floor when it gets cold outside my room just seem to trap the cold and keeps it like an ice box. I would wash my hands ( with cold water since that is all that comes out of my taps) and then they would literally freeze as I sat in my room. One night I even wore gloves to bed to try to warm them up.

But no longer the heat has come. Instead of each room having its own individual thermostat that can be adjusted to meet the needs of each tenant,I live in a city were every ones heat comes on on the same day. All the buildings are heated with coal and they all start on basically the same day: October 15th. Last night I was in bed wearing wool socks, and a sweater with my pj’s, I also had an extra blanket. When I fall asleep I was still shivering, part way through the night however I woke up to the sound of water filling the pipes ( a slightly scaring sound considering last year it burst and flooded my whole room). An hour later I woke up again and had to toss off the extra blanket and sweater. My room was warm… the heat had finally come.

The only down fall to this wonderful event is once the city starts burning the coal, our beautiful brilliant blue skies are overshadowed by a thick grimy grey haze. That will hover in the sky and fill my lungs until they finally turn off the heat on the 15th of April. Oh well, I won’t think about that today, I will just be thankful that I am warm.