Minus 42!

The morning ritual of life in Kyzyl begins with the ceremonial выключитing (turning on) of the televisor, to check the temperature and decide if the 9 year old kid I live with has to go to school or not. This morning it was minus 42, so no school! Yippee. However, the university students study no matter what (Namdolma tries every day to convince me to skip work for my health, but I have a sense of duty, and would go crazy sitting around doing nothing all day). An unfortunate side effect of my health issues is that now I am being treated like a Christmas ornament by all my colleagues and bosses, who are terrified that I will die under their supervision and they will be subjected to all sorts of uncomfortable inquiries from foreign governments. They were quite spooked by the smooth efficiency with which Fulbright extracted me from the torture hospital, so now they on super-alert. I tell them not to worry, but it does no good...

For instance, Namdolma has put her foot down about requiring me to wear my wool tights when I go outside. In my youth in Alaska, my approach was always to walk faster when it was really cold, unless I was doing something outside for a long time, and then I would dress properly with layers of Capilene and neck gators, etc. In Alaska nobody ever told me I had to put on tights or I would have "Lady Problems"... but apparently Lady Problems are a bigger issue in Siberia! What Lady Problems (женские проблемы) are exactly remains a mystery--I assume it has something to do with future difficulties in having children. However, Tyva is teaching me to appreciate the freedom we enjoy in Alaska in the winter, which is mostly thanks to the money we have to spend on snowmachines, skis, satellite phones, snow tires, and fossil fuels. Without those things life just sort of... slows down and wears a lot of fur. My boss, for example, comes to work with a pair of silver foxes tied around her neck, plus a hat that looks like a wedding cake made out of fur. And the cold doesn't stop her from wearing three inch heels. Or any of the Tyvan women, for that matter. Anyways--it's interesting to compare Alaska to Siberia. Alaska, where nobody cares about appearances. Tyva Republic, remote outpost in Siberia, that would put New York City fashion to shame! And somewhere in the middle of it all, there's a goofy little American bouncing around in a ski hat and down coat.

Well, I've been back in the saddle in Kyzyl for a week, and so far things are going well. Getting back to teaching has been really good; two weeks off really recharged my enthusiasm, and things have been going pretty great. Most of the people at he university are getting used to me, and I'm starting to expand my social circle beyond the students I teach and other English teachers. I gave a speech to some prospective students that was hardcore propaganda for Tyva State University, "come find the deep meaning in your life at Tyva State," and the Dean of the college was impressed, so now I am tutoring her daughter in conversational English. This is a good political move, as the Dean basically makes all the rules, and is accountable only to the rector, who works at the campus on the other side of town. I'm hoping to talk the Dean into letting me sit in on classes in the Russian language department during the next semester.

One thing I don't think I'll ever get used to here is how top-down things are. Whereas in the US, I would start off by actually talking to a professor about something I am interested in, here the best results will come if I go to the top first. Initiative comes from the top; obedience from the bottom. There is a process right now disciplining the teachers of my department. Apparently members of our faculty have been lollygagging in the hallways and delivering lectures with eyes closed (how is this possible?). This disciplining happened in the form of a collective chewing out, where it was made quite clear which professor was in trouble (a new lady who is actually younger than many of the students) and we were all enlisted to help her improve. It was interesting; it was like her problems were all of our problem, and it is everybody's responsibility to sort out the issues and keep the department working at full functionality.

However, it's not all crime and punishment. I'm pretty excited about my plans for Christmas Day. We were going to have a tea party with all the teachers, but everybody was busy during the day, so instead we will go to a club and dance until 2am. Might be the best Christmas of my life... Although I'm a little nervous because people get knifed quite often at the clubs in Kyzyl! Hopefully we will go to a calm club. Then, on the 26th I am going to experience the life of a big sister in Kyzyl, going to the чай-питье (tea-drinking) and new years' pageant at the school of my 9 year old housemate. Then, we are going to observe an "open-lesson" of her dance class, and THEN we have tickets to see Huun-Huur-Ty, the world famous throat singing ensemble from Tyva. They haven't performed in Tyva in six years, because they are too famous, so the concert is a big deal!

Also, I am majorly on a cross-cultural high right now. All week with my students I've been reading some articles that "BBC Learning English" has on cross cultural communication, and it has been the perfect springboard for getting them to explain Tyvan culture to me (in English), and talking about what it means to be part of an Asian culture. The students are always telling me that their culture is unique from Russian culture, that it is что то совсем другой (something entirely different). From what I can tell, Tyvans are high context communicators (don't spell things out, more circumspect) and a fairly non-verbal culture (emphasis on silence). Also, the respect thing is a huge issue, especially with people older than you. Thankfully, Tyvans are also fairly tolerant, so they put up with my chattiness and my desire to talk about things that bother me in a direct manner. I think the place that we connect is our sense of humor. They call me "The big joker" sometimes, which I think is positive. I can't fully integrate into this culture for many reasons (race is one of them), but I can at least make myself an asset and learn a lot from my experiences.

However, in terms of Russian language, this has a different effect. I am lucky to have landed in a homestay where we speak mostly Russian, although I like to torture the 9 year old with surprise English lessons, which Namdolma gleefully encourages. Also, about 20% of the communication in our home happens in Tyvan, which means that I don't understand some things. And finally, I think I'm developing a bit of an accent in my Russian, which is ok with me. Interestingly enough, one of my colleagues at the university spent two years at a Bible college in the Deep South and so speaks English with a heavy southern twang. I guess I will be the equivalent of this in the Russian speaking world... and I just plain prefer chyo to chto, and emphasizing every other word with же. It makes things more interesting...

However, I'm not getting much of anywhere with Tyvan language. I know numbers, some basic nouns, phrases like "my name is," and how to say "this is my bus stop," but I forgot how much work the preliminary stages of learning a language are. Plus, the grammar of Turkic languages is so far eluding me. Though I have to remember I once felt this way about Russian. At the same time, I have been helping a student with the very beginning stages of Chinese, a language that I know nowhere near fluently. My life has become a kind of language soup, and, overall, I like it. And it's very по-тывинский--among my students, tri-lingualism is the rule; they speak fluent Tyvan and Russian, and English at a high level. I notice a huge difference between the accent they have when they speak English and the accent Russians have; also, they have entirely different problems with grammar, different things which are difficult. Makes me think about language a lot more.

That's all for now, folks. I need to get cleaned up for work! All the best, 'Merica.