So, what are you doing, exactly?

 The people have spoken and demanded to know what their hard-earned tax money is being used for in Kazakhstan. The question is easy: Nora, what exactly are you doing in Kazakhstan, land of unimaginably large steppes and huge oil and natural gas reserves? The short version is that I teach English, but that doesn’t really cover it. It seems to me that most people can talk for a very long and boring time about their work… so I will try to do so with a minimum of Peace Corps jargon and a maximum of interesting stories.

There are three schools in my town, mine was finished only a few years ago and has the most up-to-date facilities. We’ve got two computer labs that American schools would envy, a pretty auditorium, nice cafeteria, gym, etc. We also have a museum stocked with Kazakh crafts (most of which were made by my Kazakh tutor) and a “winter garden” stocked with cacti. I have never seen students in either the museum or the garden. They are always locked, as are the computer labs. And while those computers are really nice, the printers have spotty ink and the only a handful of teachers use the equipment. My classroom is rigged out with individual head sets to listen to language CD’s (of which we have few), but they mostly go unused because I provide authentic pronunciation practice (often contradicting the British English on the tapes).

In theory I teach with a co-teacher, a local counterpart. This is great because she can do paperwork (grade books are a big deal here) and help with discipline (I’m reluctant to take the advice of my principal, that is, just give one of the kids a whack – pretty sure he wasn’t joking). But she has just left for a month to work on her university degree, so I’ll be on my own. The grand totals: 25 hours of teaching a week, 10 grades from 2nd to 11th, and around 150 students. It’s going to be a challenge, but as Peace Corps says, if the schools were perfect, we wouldn’t be here.

The school was built to accommodate a strictly Kazakh speaking program. In Soviet times, Kazakh was deemphasized in favor of Russian, and schools like this are part of the attempt to revive (or artificially create, but that’s a different essay) a Kazakh national identity. There are still huge repercussions for the repression of language. Many Kazakhs and most Russians speak little on no Kazakh and getting them to learn it, especially up here in the North, is a difficult task. Many Kazakh families speak only Russian at home, and the media is far and away in Russian. Our students generally converse with each other in Russian (though they are sometimes yelled at for that). A friend told me that when he first came to work at the school three years ago, only 3 of the teachers spoke fluent Kazakh. Teachers still ask each other for help in translating our Kazakh textbooks, and my counterpart often drifts into Russian during class. My Kazakh tutor says she routinely uses me as an example to rouse her reluctant students, along the lines of “If Miss Nora can learn Kazakh, so can you.”

Some don’t see the point of learning Kazakh, as even some higher-ups in the government don’t speak it. Peace Corps trained only 10 volunteers this fall in Kazakh and the remaining 60 in Russian, reflecting the needs of the schools in country and the practical needs of volunteers. You can get by with Russian, but knowing only Kazakh limits you to certain areas (though in those places you are a hero) There are signs of progress, such as the US ambassador beginning his Independence Day address in Kazakh, but it is a slow process. I try my hardest to only speak Kazakh or English with my students, but when they address me in Russian, my mouth automatically responds in kind. Often I’ll walk down the hall and be greeted in rapid succession by three different languages. “Salemetsiz be, mugalim?” “Strastvuite, Miss Nora!” “Hello, teacher.” It’s a good wake-up for my brain in the morning.

My biggest challenges at work are discipline, paper work, and learning names. I get along well with the students, but sometimes we are on completely different pages. Mostly the problems come from cultural differences and language barriers (the English level of my students in any given grade is pretty much null), but I am also a new teacher, which accounts for a lot. Grading is not a problem, except when all my students rush me at once at the end of class begging me to give them good marks in the little books they show their parents. That can get crazy.

Names are a serious adventure. First, I’m trying to learn about a million of them, from teachers and students to extended host family, neighbors, politicians, cross-country skiers, and local singers. Second, I’m ok with Russian names, but Kazakh can be a trip, as many of them sound both completely unfamiliar to me and very similar to each other. There’s Alibek, Aigirim, and Aksana. Botagoz and Ayagoz. Dana, Zhanna, Aidana, and Ainara. Serik, Berik, and Aibek. Gurnul and Nurgul. Galya and Gulya. Their names are also a vocabulary lesson, as each name has meaning. Sometimes I translate their names in my head to help with memory recall, but most often that just makes me feel like I’m on a commune. We’ve got Holiday, Love, Moonbeam, Moonflower, White-Thought, White-Soul, Flowerbeam and Beamflower. Not to mention the hoards I haven’t managed to translate yet. I sometimes get called “Nora-zhan” or “Nora-soul” as both an affectionate and respectful title.

On a side note, I recently made my second appearance speaking Kazakh on television. This came yesterday after traveling to Pavlodar with the regional teacher’s league ski team. We raced against all the best teachers from the oblast (basically, the state). Expectations were high, as our region has won the meet for the last few years.

To get on the team, I came in second at the regional ski meet (out of a total of two women). The next day, two women, three men, and out regional team manager traveled to town, strapped on our skis, and for two days alternated between sleeping, eating, and skiing. And we won! By almost 15 minutes! Mostly by virtue of our first place ski guru/coach, who waxed our skis perfectly and regaled us with stories about when he raced in the World Championships at Lake Placid. But I came in second among the women and was on the first place coed relay team, so I like to think I helped. Kazakhstan is helping me live out my dreams of being a fast skier. They want me to start going to shooting practice so I can become a biathlete. If I do, I’ll be sure to let y’all know.

Oh, and I ended up on TV by virtue of being the only American and one of the few Kazakh speakers at the event. I didn’t see the actual program, but my colleagues at school were full of praise yesterday, so I guess I didn’t butcher too many words.

Happy Belated New Years and Happy Orthodox Christmas (it’s today)!

Love,
Nora