I am writing from Turkmenistan, from the peace corps office which is basically the only time I will get internet for the next few months (next three months to be exact). I am mostly at my training site, which is a crazy small village. (I dodge and angry sheep on my way to the outhouse.)
Langauge is still slowly coming and increasinly frustrating. I have the skills of a drunken mongoose at the best of times, but my host family has the patience of many many saints. They seem to get that the American is a little bit "special" and needs to be coddled. I am definatly outclassed by both my host sisters, given that I can't get a full bucket of water out of the well. I also can't mix dough properly, wash my clothes, or generally anything else that makes turkmen women the "pearls of the east."
Of particular note, I slightly illegally went to the bazaar with my family. Peace Corps didn't want us to go. But i bought some material for my koinek (traditional dress with rockin' awesome embroidery around the collar). The bazaar was crazy. There were russians, Iranians, and carpets that spill out of stalls. I was in way over my head, but it was pretty cool.
Otherwise all is good. WRITE ME LETTERS
Friday, October 12, 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)