Айт қабыл болсын!

Wow. Twenty-three years old as of yesterday – I’m getting old.

My local host family threw a big birthday party for me, but since my birthday falls on the second day of Ait, which marks the end of Ramadan on the Muslim calendar, the joke among the Trainees was that it was just the food they’d prepared for Ait that they were using for my birthday dinner. For Ait, the Ramadan fast is broken and all households make or buy tonnes of fried food (like bauyrsaq бауырсақ, which are round or diamond-shaped puffs of fried dough, shilpek шілпек, which bears a striking resemblance to Navajo fry-bread, fried eggplant and chicken and beshbarmaq) and buy tonnes of candy (marmalade and chocolate seem to be favourites), put out tea and keep their doors open for any guests who might come by and drink and eat with them. After eating, usually an older man will recite the Fatihah, which is the opening prayer (or Exordium) of the Koran: ‘Praise be to God, Lord of the Universe, the Compassionate, the Merciful, Sovereign of the Day of Judgment: You alone we worship, and to You alone we turn for help. Guide us to the straight path, the path of those whom you have favoured, not of those who have incurred Your wrath nor of those who have gone astray.’ Then they will take their leave and move on to the next house. The women all wear headscarves and dress up, and the men wear skullcaps and formal attire (at least on the first day of Ait).

But the joke regarding my birthday dinner and Ait is only half-true, since Bota and Quanysh really pulled out all the stops – they got me a really nice cake, and put out lots of juice, and invited all my fellow Trainees in Saimasai, as well as Nagima, Asem and Emiko, and some of the extended family of my generation (Dariya, Laura and Quat). My stomach is thankful that they cooked pumpkin manty instead of beshbarmaq for my birthday dinner.

I got some really nice gifts from everyone who came, including a very high-quality dress shirt (neon green) from Quat, a book of Qazaq folktales and a towel decorated with the Qazaq emblem from Dariya and Laura, some caramel-filled chocolates and a pair of sunglasses from the trainees and some good markers and a binder from the training staff (very useful). My host family got me a toothbrush holder and an umbrella (also very useful, the latter particularly around here and at this season).

Second week of teaching has begun, and it’s getting really stressful since I have to bum textbooks off other people (both other trainees and local teachers) in order to prepare my lessons. On the other hand, though, the computer teacher at school has promised us some level of free access to the Internet (if we can find him), so I won’t have to go all the way to Essik or Almaty in order to post to my blog, check my e-mail and all that other jazz. Also, my lessons are steadily improving, which boosts my confidence and causes my lessons to be even better (like an anti-death-spiral or something).

I feel somewhat isolated here, but my family is telling me that’s probably a good thing, since the news from home (particularly the ugly temper-tantrum the Republicans in general and Joe Wilson in particular were throwing recently over health care) would just make me angry, and they’re probably right about that. In Qazaqstan, all the stuff that used to make me upset I simply can’t afford to pay attention to anymore – but then again, I don’t really have to, on my government-sponsored, government-run health-care plan which every American ought to have. The downside to my isolation, though, is the lack of The Daily Show, which I think would help improve my mood from time to time – generally, I make time to entertain myself watching movies or writing in my journal (some of which is posted here). But I'm keeping busy, and I enjoy my work, so that helps immensely.