Today I Met the Boy I’m Going to Marry

I had just gotten off the bus and was walking down the snow packed lane towards my home. As I passed the bazaar one of the young Uyghur guys who stands outside with a camera in hand to take pictures of the tourists called out to get my attention. I waved my hand in dismissal trying to indicate that I was not in need of photos. However this young man was more persistent than most, and I ended up turning to him and having to tell him very clearly that I live here and don’t need cheap touristy shots of myself standing beside a building I pass every day.

He was so surprised I spoke Uyghur, that he quickly grabbed his bag and started to follow me home. He asked questions about where I was from, and how old I am. He also asked how easy it was to get a Canadian passport, and before we had even made it to the front gate of my apartment complex he had popped the big question. He had proposed, he had asked for my hand in marriage, he committed his life to me (or at least to my passport).

Now I just have to decide what I want. Do I want to marry the camera guy, or am I more interested in the taxi driver that asked to marry me last week, or should I keep my options open for the son of the shop keeper I meet last week ( I didn’t actually get to meet the boy, but his mom thought we would be perfect for each other).

They say that every girl spends time dreaming about the way her man will propose. I don’t need to dream about it, I get to live it at least once a month since I moved here. My roommate keeps a running total of how many proposals she has had on her facebook page, I think she is nearing 20. If we were doing something to instigate these professions of ‘love’ it might be understandable why the count is increasing so quickly, but we don’t do anything. Today as I walked home, I didn’t say or do anything. I kept my eyes pinned to the ground so as never to make eye contact. I answered all of his question with only two word grunts. I made sure he knew I was a lot older than he was. I tried to say goodbye three times and in the end I walked the other direction, away from my home so that my new suitor would not know where I lived.

I’m getting good at excuse as to why I can’t marry them. “I am still young” (which doesn’t work as well now that I am over thirty), “My older brother isn’t even married yet” (Bruce is going to strip me of this one very soon), “we are on different paths” (they Uyghur word for husband is literally ‘roadmate’). I have told some of them that they are not tall, or handsome, or rich enough for my taste. But my best ’out’ is blaming it on my father. I have told some guys that they will need to get my father’s permission, and in order to do that they will have to learn English, fly to Canada, and convince my family that they are worthy.

So dad, if a Uyghur guy shows up at the front door with a camera in hand, you will know why he is really there.

You’re Fired

This week I heard these very words roll off the tongue of my boss as I sat in the living room sipping tea with him and his wife. Fired, this is the second job in my life from which I have been let go. The first was a summer job I had during college. The boss scheduled me for a Saturday morning shift even though I had repeatedly told her that was not a good time for me (Those of you who have known me for years may remember that every Saturday morning I was subdued under the effects of my medication). When I came in, unable to actually work, she let me go on the spot even though I had been the top sales person five weeks in a row. Thankfully selling suitcases and handbags at the mall was not my lifelong ambition.

This week’s firing was not as traumatic or as much of a reflection on my inability to work. I was actually the one who asked my boss to fire me; I even drew up the need paperwork for him. If you keep up with my blog you may know that I have been working for a Uyghur handicraft export company for the last year. But since we had no internet for 10 months, this internet based company really suffered. So much so that they are currently in the process of shutting down, my boss has not called me or needed help for several months.

In order to obtain my new visa working for Fusion (Whole Hearted Translation), I needed a letter of dismissal from my current employer. I typed it up, and email it to my boss so that he could print it off and give me the official stamp. I than went to his house to visit with his wife and hold one of their adorable twins. With a dramatic “you’re fired” my boss handed me the letter and I officially ended my employment with them. My father always told us to leave a good taste in the mouth of our employer so that they would be willing to hire us back, and while I may never get to sell luggage again, I think I will have many more afternoon tea times and encounters after my dismissal from this job.

Sparks are Flying

Growing up on the Canadian /US border I looked forward to the once a year huge fireworks demonstration that Windsor-Detroit is famous for. Every year in celebration of our two countries birthday we have an International Freedom Festival that culminates with three barges in the middle of the river entertaining over a million viewers. We all are mezmorized by the colours and lights exploding in the air for over half an hour. They burst into maples leaves and stars high above the skyline for all to see. This is fireworks as I have grown to know and love them.
Fireworks here are hardly the same. I was woken up this morning at 6am to the sound of firecrackers blasting, bursting and popping all around me. There has barely been a lull all day as almost every family around me hosts their own mini firework display. Some are the type that shoot like rockets and bounce off the windows above, others are long strips of red paper that send sparks shooting off in all directions, others are attached to a sting that you hang out your window, causing fire to rain down on the people walking below. After over 16 hours of nonstop explosions resonating around me I have been reminded that not all fireworks are as beautiful or colorful as the exceptional show I grew up watching. In fact some of them are just plain loud.

My friend recently posted the following on her blog regarding this erupting holiday of light and sound “There's the quantity ,we heard the average home here spends approximately 3,000 worth of local currancy($450 USD) on fireworks for this celebration. Not sure that could be correct though. (That's two months worth of rent for me!) and the incredible scariness/ foolishness of shooting them off: little kids running between huge piles of missile-type shooters and crackers thrown onto sidewalks bustling with pedestrians or inches from homes."

All of this excitement leaves the ground littered with red paper and the air heavy with the smell of ash and smoke. The constant cracking has the children running around screaming with glee , while the loud bagging often prompts car alarms to go off incessantly . A simple walk outside is like an overload to the senses.

Goodbye Sunshine

I have left the warmth of Thailand and arrived back to the wintery chill of home. Even though this means saying goodbye to the warm sunshine and the glistening beach, there are still many things I am thankful for:
108) Safe travels

109) Seeing friends I hadn’t seen in a very long time

110) The chance to debrief a very stressful year and a half with a wise counselor, whose words of wisdom and truth resonated with me in such a deep way that they felt like a breath of fresh air.

111) After those conversations the ensuing sense of freedom I had and the ability I had to let go of some responsibility that was never really mine in the first place

112) For the chance to go swimming with my friends kids. It is so fun to hear them yell “Aunt Karen, Watch me” as we splash around in the cool roof top pool of our hotel.

113) To have a pool side seat as my friends play watermelon waterpolo

114) finding sand dollars on the beach, or discovering that there is still a snail living in the shell that I put in my pocket the night before

115) the free hotel breakfast that every morning included fresh pineapple, mango, papaya and dragon fruit

116) Fresh fruit slushies

117) Reading biographies of those who have gone before… their stories live on today as a strong mentor in my life

118) My friend taking the time to write up a good suggested reading list for the next year

119) A break from running to government offices and doing business stuff

120) Not being one of the many people at our hotel who got salmonella poisoning from eating the buffet lunch one day

121) My friend's willingness to drive a car in Thailand, even though it is the other side of the street, so that we could enjoy a cheaper vacation

122) The cheap price of an hour long foot massage

123) I was very thankful when the lady behind us on the train finally got off. She had been suffering with motion sickness ( and being sick in a bag) for the first 6 hours of our 13 hour ride across the country.

124) Auntie Ann’s cinnamon sugar pretzels

125) Time spent celebrating with friends

126) Steroid shots in my shoulder that decreases pain and helps me sleep better

127) For an overall good check up at the doctors and the amazing hospital facilities here

128) Fresh smelling laundry that was dried in a dryer and the use of fabric softener

129) That even though we carried back an extra bag for my roommate, we were never charged for having over weight language

130) For friends who put up with me for weeks of travel, even when I am cranky and tired and still calls me a friend at the end of it

131) the time and planning that many people put in to organizing a retreat

132) Wisdom shared with me by people who have lived cross culturally in this part of the world for many years

133) To have survived a night in their airport and more than 24 hours on route home

134) I am very thankful to be home in my own bed after staying in a total of seven different hotels (not counting the airport bench).

I Don't Know Why She Swallowed that Fly...

My friends and I decided to take in all the joys afforded us at the weekend market in Bangkok, including the bugs.

As you can see we came across a stall selling fried insects of every flavour and variety. We opted for one cockroach and a bag full of grasshoppers, to share as our afternoon snack. The initial dare to actually take a first bite was rather eventful, but by the end of the day we were just sitting in the park munching away on the remainder of them. For those of you who are interested there really isn't much flavour, they tasted like most greasy fried food with a bit of a crunch. I still don't know why I actually ate the groasshopper, other than the friend I was travelling with is one of those types of people who sees something new or different and says "let's try eating that". All I can say is it has been several days since I swallowed the bug, and I don't think I am going to die.

Live Wire

Bangkok – a great place for vacation and adventure. We arrived about a week ago, but most of that time was spent in meetings and such. We did have our evenings free to go exploring the city and seeing the sights. Since this is not my first trip here I feel like I am pretty use to the flow of this place, the western feel, the tourists from all over the world and even the lady men don’t shock me they way they use too. Every time I have to take a day or two to readjust to looking right and then left before playing a mad game of frogger to get across the street. Thankfully the hotel we stayed at was right beside a pedestrian walking overpass, making it much safer to cross the busy main street we were located on. The first time I climbed the stairs to stroll above the traffic I, almost quite literally, got a huge shock. Running parallel to the medal handrail that I was using to help pull my weary legs up the steps, was about a million high voltage electrical cords just inches from my hand. When I saw it the old J.I.Joe commercial about never touching power lines vividly sprang to mind. Since knowing IS half the battle I slowly limped my way up the rest of the steps careful not to touch anything.

Don't You Look Pretty

Growing up my family and I joked that we should be called Amish R Us due to our love of all things navy and subdued. Since coming to Central Asia I have expanded my definition of what looks great. In fact I am to the point that I may actually even agree with the dictionary.

I don’t know if it was a translation mishap or a perfect expression of the culture. The word gaudy is defined in English as: ostentatiously or tastelessly showy or ornamented. The English -Uyghur dictionary translates this same word as beautiful. Perhaps it is their love of colour, lace, sequins, rhinestones and sparkles that make an over the top item look downright pretty.

Men Don’t Wash Dishes

Some of you may remember that over the summer I helped my friends out at the Texas café by filling in until the new managers arrived. I still go back often for dinner or to visit the staff and see how things are going. The new mangers are great. They have really turned the place around in a very short amount of time. Between movie night, English corners, deals on food, and a great atmosphere they are packing in the customers. But all of this has not come without a fair amount of struggle.

The restaurant’s dishwasher left suddenly and they asked the cooks to fill in for a while. They did for a few weeks, but demanded more pay for the extra work. The new management agreed because they needed the help, but in all actuality they were not even asking the chef to put in over time, but to use the hours when no one was coming in or when the restaurant was unbusy, to get their hands wet and do something instead of just sitting there. To us it seems like a natural request, if you are an employee at a business and your boss says, “Don’t just sit there, wash the dishes”.

In asking for this simple task to be complete, the new mangers were making a huge cultural faux pah . In Uyghur culture men DO NOT wash dishes… no way, no how. Growing up, it is his mother’s job to cook and wash the dishes for him. After a man gets married it becomes his wife’s job. In fact the worst position to be in the Uyghur family is the youngest son’s wife.

Traditionally as each son gets married he brings his bride back to the family home. This young newlywed girl is ushered right into the kitchen to start her work of serving the family. Her days are filled with washing, cooking and cleaning for her husband’s family, almost like a slave. She only gets a promotion from the kitchen when the next oldest brother gets married.

With this cultural back ground, let’s return to the café. The cooks filled in where needed for few weeks, but quickly put up a fuss that they would no longer do women’s work. Even when offered more pay they refused to get their hands wet. They stubbornly clung to the traditional mindset. One of them actually claimed that his mother forbid him from washing the dishes at work. Some of these men are engaged and need more money for their wedding, but refused to do the work that could help to line their pockets even a little. When my friend’s husband, the manger from the States, rolled up his sleeves and started to try to set an example of being willing to do whatever was needed, the employees sat around doing nothing but watching and laughing at his softness.

Coca Cola Bridges the Gap

In every one of the major shopping centers here customers are required to put their bags and purses in a locker near the front door. Greeters wait at the store entrance more intent on making sure you don’t have a bag to shoplift with, than actually welcoming you to their establishment. These locker spaces can also be put to good use for hanging notices and advertisements. Recently the Coca Cola Company posted this picture.

Every part of this picture screams Uyghur culture, from the woman dressed in atlas wearing a headscarf, the men in hand stitched traditional shirts and dopas, to the table filled with fried noodles and fruit. The coke company simply plucked the tea pot from their hands and exchanged it for a bottle of pop. I thought it was hilarious.

Remedial Stamping Classes

I have been told it is all in the wrist work, but I think I need to practice stamping our companies red business stamps. We were at the bank yesterday trying to open a new wire funds accounts, which took longer than necessary based on my workmates and my inability to evenly press down and mark our name. We tried to improve our sub-par stamping skills by practicing over and over again on the back of an extra sheet of paper, before stamping the official document. Some practice stamps were too heavy on the ink, making all the words blur together as one, others were faint making the numbers hard to discern. Despite our remedial review, the bank called us back this morning and asked us to come in and do it again. We have a long way to go before we are pro business women in Central Asia.

2010: A Year in Review

Whenever people have asked me over the last few weeks “how are you doing?” the only answer I can seem to come up with is I am worn out. As I reflect on all that has happened in the past year it is no wonder I am a little tired.

-No internet for the first five months of the year- this black whole of communication was stressful on all of us. It was hard to write home, talk to family, check email or even hear outside news. I remember I was sending my computer on vacation with people leaving the province just so I could down load a couple of months of email.

-Got my first ever year long work visa – a process that included over 15 trips to government offices, police guys trying to kiss me in empty elevators, getting taken as an American man, and almost starting at an entirely different job.

- Living in a police state were during different tense times throughout the year we would notice an increased presence of troops walking around our streets with big guns

-Helping and giving support to a friend who was going through a difficult time. This became a constant concern for several months.

- I was given the challenging task of teaching over 10, three hour lectures in Uyghur.

- 8 books/papers edited into Uyghur.

- Filled in at the Texas café for a month while it was between managers.

- Grieved along with two of my good Uyghur friends, who both had parents pass away this year

- I was on a bus that got in an accident, causing a lot of pain to my back and shoulder and forcing me to bed rest for a week.

- Worked through some personal conflict with another expat couple living in our city

- Help new people settle in, by arranging an apartment to rent, taking them furniture shopping and showing them the ropes.

- Attending a week long intensive training course and considered how it will affect my day to day life. Also turned around and re-taught much of the information with friends here.

- Helped host at least 8 different groups that visited our city and took them on the official Uyghur cultural walk

- Moving: my roommate and I had strict parameters for finding a new place. We wanted a two bedroom apartment, no further than a five minute walk from a bus stop, no higher than the third floor, in the center of town and for no more than 250 dollars a month. We looked at a lot of places before we found a one that was clean and safe and met all of our specifications.

- Attended five weddings representing three different cultures .

-Felt very far away from my family in Canada when my Grandmother passed away

- Met all of our new neighbors and visited them in their homes over main local holidays

- We also found an office space and set it up, thankful only a five minute walk from out new home.

- Two trips out of the country and five trips to other cities in the country.

- 63 trips to different government offices, numerous phone calls and a total of 182 hours spent over the last four months trying to open our own company.

There are many part of the above year that I would not want to relive. You know how they say that 'whatever doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger'. I can testify to the fact that all of this has certainly lent itself to strengthening one important aspect of my life. I have often looked to these words: “ We also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint”