The Золотая серединка

I’m sitting in the kitchen on a Sunday afternoon, listening to Namdolmaa have a phone conversation with some relatives in the village. She’s mixing words in Russian and Tuvan really intensely! I just heard a phrase a minute ago: “Предупреждать chuuur-rup teren-dende..” Now, I’m not sure what the second half means, but “predupredjezdat means to “tip off” or “forewarn.” I can only speculate as to the juicy nature of this interesting Tuvan communication…

I wanted to write a few words about my latest adventure, which involved driving out to a village with my students at 5am to eat big lumps of cold fat… Hooray!

But first of all, I want to take a minute to advertise my friend Sean’s throat singing group, which is RIGHT NOW touring the USA. That means that YOU, dear readers, have the chance to hear some fantastic Tuvan music pretty darn soon. Sean was also a Fulbrighter, about five or so years ago, and he has taken up permanent residence in Tuva, speaking the language, performing with the National Orchestra, and raising his family. For more information, go to:

www.alashensemble.com/

I warn you that once you hear their music you may find yourself overtaken by an insatiable desire to see Tuva for yourself! Which is okay; next year has been declared the “Year of the Tourist,” all across the Republic!

Probably the group of students I am closest with is my third year class. I taught them a lot last semester and we’re continuing this semester. By now, we know each other pretty well and have a very understanding and respectful relationship. They really took good care of me in my first months here; they were always kind and understanding, always eager and curious.

Yesterday was the Tuvan equivalent of University-Prom for the third years. It was their Золотая серединка, or the “Golden Halfway Point” of their university career. Currently, Russian undergrads study 5 years, so halfway through the third year is exactly halfway through their degree. As is traditional here in Tuva (and in some places in Russia I hear) the third years decided to have a really fancy party, even though they have no money. Through some sort of a miracle; mostly through sustained effort over the last several months they managed to gather enough money to rent out a café around town for six hours, and to cover the tables with tasty food and drinks.

At the party we drank, danced, sang, played games, and gossiped till they closed the café, then we set out for another village 30 mins away where somebody had a cabin in a train of taxis. Arriving at the cabin we had another feast with cake, pelmeni, eggs, and сала (chunks of homemade lard). Then everybody got really calm, looked at the clock and realized it was nearly 5 am, and we found a ride back to Kyzyl. The coolest part of all was that it was a full moon. It was a grand feeling to be driving around Tuva in the super early morning in a car full of local people with whom I share mutual respect. As one of my wise students told me earlier in the night, “We’ve got to make memories while we’re young, so that later on there will be something to sit around and remember.” I think that for teachers everywhere, one of the primary joys of teaching is just knowing your students. It’s such a cool way to interact with people.

Anyways; school starts at 8:30 tomorrow morning and it’s back to reality for at least the work week. It’s going to be a busy week and some how I have to find the time to build an advent wreath because all the foreigners in Kyzyl are getting together this week to present on how the new year is celebrated around the world. I am doing Christmas traditions; the other American guy in town is responsible for New Years. Also, I baked some oatmeal cookies tonight for my students to thank them for their party. Namdolmaa, curious as ever, was eagerly waiting at my elbow to try the first batch. After tasting, she gave the verdict: “They taste like oats.” I guess that pretty much sums up oatmeal cookies…

Lots of love to you guys! Mega peace,
Riley