Karakol School #1 English Projects

For English class, some of Eliza's students made presentations about their school. Attached are two they shared with me. For one, there is accompanying soundtrack that involves a few PG-13 lyrics courtesy of US hip-hop artists. The students didn't know any better (bless their hearts, as they'd say in the South).

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Kyrgyzstan Photos!

U.S. in Kyrgyzstan (non-military)

Pardon some wonkiness below. This entry is more about my thoughts on things I observed than on my trip itself.

Although Karakol is off the beaten path for U.S. tourists, there's more of a U.S. presence here than one might expect. First, there are five Peace Corps volunteers here. One works as a teacher-trainer at the local university. One works with the local branch of Community Based Tourism, a national organization that seeks to develop local tourism entrepenuership, and organize tourists' use of these small companies. Another works with the Red Crescent, which is the same as the Red Cross; they run a house for orphans and abused children in Karakol. The fourth works with a local organization called “American Corner.” It is funded by the U.S. State Department, and has a library, computers and internet available for free use, as well as offering free English classes and a variety of other programs. The remaining volunteer works in public health, particularly AIDS education. There are also other volunteers who come to the area for short- and medium-term projects. Several locals asked me, “Are you a volunteer?” when they first figured out I was not an ethnic Russian.

In addition to the Peace Corps brigade, there are a variety of projects in the town that are U.S. funded to some extent, such as the above-mentioned American Corner. The U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) funded a recently completed professional development project in one of the local schools for three years. The International Research and Exchange Board (IREX), which operates the program I am on, runs at least two different local programs in Karakol. One, which is at several of the schools, is called Global Communication Exchange (GCE), and connects groups of kids here with peers in U.S. schools to share information about their cultures and collaborate on projects. Another IREX program provides technology instruction for girls, and sends one or two of the most outstanding local girls each summer to the United States for a summer technology camp experience. Three or four kids each year also are selected for the FLEX program, which pays for students from Central Asian students to study for one year in the U.S. through the AFS exchange program. Most AFS students, like my family's exchange student Mauro, from Italy, have to pay to participate, but FLEX students do not, and they receive a small stipend for expenses. It is, however, an extremely competitive program.

The success of the development programs is a mixed bag. Many programs come with concrete materials such as computers (with GCE, for example) and textbooks. These are often greatly appreciated and valued locally. There are also, however, policies and instructional initiatives associated with these materials about which the Kyrgyz tend to be more ambivalent. One program encouraged an emphasis on formative assessment, but according to several local teachers “No one really explained to us what formative assessment means!” Many of the policies are rooted in disturbingly condescending and or naive notions about Kyrgyzstan's education system and culture. For example, one well-funded, multi-year project aimed to increase “parent and community involvement in schools” by trying to create a more U.S.-like model of school boards and site-based management. This aim may sound well-intentioned, but it is flawed on two levels. First, the vast majority of Kyrgyz parents and communities are already heavily involved in children's school experiences. Because that involvement doesn't take the shape of school boards or structures familiar to Western funding agencies, it is apparently dismissed. Although the Kyrgyz education system does find itself in a financial crisis, the Kyrgyz are rightfully proud of many aspects of their educational system, particularly its achievements during the Soviet era. Kyrgyz schools improved literacy rates in the country at a break-neck pace, and most communities and students were very enthusiastic about their schools during Soviet times. Although the funding that supported the system of the past is gone, and cracks in infrastructure and human capital are apparent, education is still a prized commodity in Kyrgyzstan, highly prioritized by parents. Parents with the means pay for supplemental classes for their children. In fact, most of the students I have met with have mentioned “extra classes,” often in English and computer skills, that they take several days a week. It seems that more development programs could do a better job of consider existing values, skills, priorities, and realities, instead of imposing foreign “solutions.”

Early return

It looks like I'm coming home a tad early. Deposed President Bakiev, holed up in the southwest of the country, has been trying to rally his supporters. Bakiev seems unwilling to go quietly, and the State Department has decided it's time for me to go. Given that the Russian prez was quoted today as saying, "Civil war in Kyrgyzstan is a real possibility," I guess I'll have to agree that my exit is a wise move. I'm took a car Karakol to Bishkek this morning, and am on a 5:40 am flight tomorrow AM. I wish I could have finished up my time in Karakol, but I was glad that I managed to do a few more of the activities I had planned. At one point they were talking about me leaving Monday morning. This afternoon in Bishkek, I went by the site of the protests from last Wednesday; it was quite moving. There are piles of flowers where each person died, and a steady stream of people visiting in groups to pay their respects and add to the flower mounds.The Krygyz squat and spread their palms to pray, so groups of 20-30 squatted quietly near most of the flower mounds. It was odd to be at the site of all the images that had been on the TV screen for the last week. The main government building that was the central sight of the protests, and deaths, has several burned out cars still sitting inside its fence, many smashed windows, and some signs of burn damage itself. Several men pointed towards different rooftop corners from where snipers had shot. A hand-written list of the names of the dead hangs on one gate, and photos of many are spread along the fence. Looking at the many images surrounding me, I didn't at first notice a small detail close at hand: the metal fence itself. There were two bullet marks on it, right in front of me. As I looked left and right, I saw more of the same: nicks and indentations at various heights. Two are visible in the following photo:This, more than any of the other symbols and signs of mourning, drove home the fact and the sadness of the people who lost their lives here a week ago. Many of those killed were not even actually actively protesting; they were simply curious onlookers, cut down by random fire.

Many in Kyrgyzstan hope that this tragedy will help the country to be better governed in the future. I hope this is true. In neighboring Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, the same authoritarian leaders have been in power since the demise of the Soviet Union, with little indication there is enough public will to challenge the status quo. Although change would preferably occur in peaceful ways, it cannot always be so. The Kyrgyz have had the courage to stand up to a corrupt and authoritarian regime. The local IREX coordinator said to me on the ride to the airport this 2:45 am, “There are a lot of lessons about government from this experience. We hope Kyrgyzstan's leaders will learn. Maybe our neighbors can learn something too. Our people have been brave.”

Posted next morning from Istanbul airport.

Culinary Adventures in KG

Although the Kyrgyz are still trying to sort out their politics, they deserve better marks for their cuisine. All the different cultures and traditions that have collided here make their contributions. I eat breakfast at my guest house, which is run by a flock of ethnic-Russian ladies. It typically consists of mediocre bread, and better variety of porridges, omlettes, and pastries. At school, there is no lunch break, so teachers and students just grab snacks here and there. Thus, dinner is where exploring the different culinary options. The specialty in Karakol is a Dungan dish called ashlanfu. It's basically a noodle soup, with vegetables and beef or lamb. It has two different kinds of noodles – one thick, the other thin and looking sort of like the noodles you see in Thai cooking – and the broth is vinegary, with a good spicy kick. It's served cold, and costs less than a dollar for a bowl around here. It's a good, filling meal. Everyone I talk to here seems to love it, including one student who said, “If I can eat one food for the rest of my life, it's ashlanfu.” Laghman is another dish featuring many of the same ingredients (noodles, meat, tomatoes, onions), but it's more like a stew than a soup, and the small amount of broth does not include vinegar. I've also had a couple of good quasi-Russian meals, including an authentic beef stroganoff. Last night I had something called brizol (sp?), which is meat, eggs, and veggies all rolled up together, sort of looking like a burrito (but no tortilla). I couldn't finish mine; it was good, but too much food. I also had a dinner at Leadership's director's house; she's ethnically Russian and made a big spread of salads, borsch (soup), and a chicken casserole. In sum, I'm well fed these days. I'll need to make a quick return to the gym when I arrive home!

Revolution #2

Saturday is winding down, and it's been an interesting, paradoxical few days. Since Karakol remains calm, I've mostly been out and about since Thursday at noon. As a precaution, I'm always with people from the school, and I return to my hotel before dark. Wednesday afternoon, there were peaceful protests in the Karakol main square to show support for the protesters in Bishkek, but other than that there has been no sign of unrest. This mirrors what happened in the “Tulip Revolution” of 2005 – in that case also Karakol was not a site of any violence. Eliza, the teacher hosting me, and several of the students I have talked to have characterized the people of Karakol as tending to mind their own business. The city is relatively more affluent than many parts of Kyrgyzstan, and thus did not suffer quite as much as the result of the political corruption and energy price increases that were the major causes for the protests to break out. It is also located in the far east of the country, closer to the border with China than to to the capital, Bishkek, furthering its sense of independence. So although I see pictures of violence and hear discussion of political upheaval on the news every night, it all seems a bit disconnected from what I have been up to each of the past few days. Although the 3 U.S. Peace Corps volunteers in Karakol have been ordered not to leave their homes since Wednesday, I have been able to continue with many parts of my itinerary. In many ways, I'm having quite a good experience.

My school was closed on Thursday, but reopened on Friday, although attendance was less than normal. Eliza and I taught lessons to 9^th and 10^th grade students, several of which were repeats of my Wednesday classes - a non-stop stream of questions from the students on a slew of topics. Classes at the school are on a sliding schedule, so not all classes meet every day, and not always at the same time of day. In each class someone asked what I thought of “the revolution,” and my response was to ask the students what they thought. Everyone who spoke up expressed satisfaction that Bakiyev had been de facto removed from office, although there were also expressions of uncertainty about what will happen next. The leader of the interim government worked at times for both of previous presidents, so it is not clear how much change she really represents. There seems to be near universal happiness that Bakiyev's removal means his family cronies go with him. His son is particularly loathed for forcefully taking over or selling off large pieces of the Kyrgyz economy. In Karakol, there is a small ski resort above the town, and he basically forced the owners to sell it to him. Refusing a buyout from him was apparently dangerous for one's health.

After school ended on Friday, Eliza and several of the students from Leadership restarted my walking tour of Karakol that had been cut short on Wednesday. The local museum was closed because of the political situation, but otherwise we were able visit the zoo (highlights: lynx and a griffin) the central market (anybody need a sheep?), and the Dungan mosque. The Dungan, one of a mind-boggling mix of ethno-religious groups in the region, are Muslims of Chinese descent (not to be confused with the local Uighurs, also Muslims who mostly live in modern China but are ethnically Turkic). The mosque is thus an interesting architectural mish-mash – with dragons in the eaves and other Chinese artistic flourishes, but also Arabic inscriptions on the interior and the standard patchwork of rugs one expects in a more typical mosque.

On Saturday, I went to school to do a teacher training session that is a required part of my TEA-IREX program. I was surprised to find the school full of kids; somehow, I had missed the fact that the school runs on Saturdays as well. I learned that in most cities in Kyrgyzstan, school is six days a week. Nonetheless, schedules had been rearranged so that twelve English teachers (10 from Karakol School #1, and 2 from a neighboring school) could attend the training session. We had a fun three hours together, as enough of my jokes managed to transcend cultural barriers, and (more importantly), the teachers enjoyed the opportunity for some professional development. Before I came here, I was aware at some level that teachers in Kyrgystan have a tough job, and being here has only emphasized that reality. A teaching salary here is so meager ( between 18-30$ a month) that becoming a teacher is not an economically rationale choice. All of the teachers live on the incomes of spouses and/or family, or their own side jobs. As a result of this fact, the demographics of the teaching profession are distorted in two ways. First, teachers are overwhelmingly women. In Karakol School #1, out of 102 teachers, 6 are males. Since there is still the expectation that the man should be the primary bread-winner for the family, why would one enter a profession that does not pay a survival wage? Age-wise, teachers are either quite old, or quite young. For the older teachers, there children are grown and they thus have less need to earn; they also learn slightly more because of their experience level (still below poverty level). Many of the older teachers live in extended-family units where they chip in a little with their salaries. For the younger teachers, they have not yet left their family homes; their families support them while they do what is essentially volunteer work. Teachers aged 30 to 50 are almost non-existent. Because of the collapse of wages, all throughout the 90s and 2000s, many former teachers left the country, or the profession for better paid work. Those who departed were often the most creative and skilled teachers. Just three weeks ago, two teachers left the school for Russia, where they'll make three times as much money in house-cleaning or other low-skilled jobs.

Given such a financial and human capital crisis in schools, teacher professional development is more-or-less non-existent. Schools cannot afford to pay for the costs of learning opportunities, and teachers rarely have the time to give to it since many try to supplement their incomes by teaching extra classes or helping with family agricultural work or businesses. As a result of all of this, the teachers were truly grateful for a chance to spend some time collaborating and learning.

In the afternoon, I was again escorted by an entourage of students, plus Eliza and her student teacher, for some touring about the area. We took a rickety bus – reminiscent of those I've ridden in Ecuador, the Philippines, and other corners of the globe – just out of town to a museum about Prezwalski, the Russian Lewis & Clark (rolled into one). He explored and surveyed throughout Central Asia in the second half of the 19^th century, before typhus did him in. He was buried near Karakol, at his request, and Karakol was actually renamed Preswalski from the 1940's until Kyrgyz independence. The museum was right up my alley, with oodles of old maps, photos, drawings, and navigation devices. And even though the museum was only opened up by an elderly lady when we arrived, a guide, perfectly fluent in English, appeared out of the ether to talk me through the entire place. Afterwards, we walked down to Lake Issyk-kul – still too cold for swimming – before heading back into town.