Farewell Rossiya!

in less than 12 hours, my plane shall become airborne, and leave the wonderful world of Siberia behind! While I've had my fair share of ups & downs this summer (which I've done a positively lousy job of documenting here- I know, I know; I'll hopefully finish some of my saved draft adventures from afar), all in all, I can really say that I'm sad to go. I might not have been as "productive" in the concrete sense of the word, but the perspective I've gained, the connections I've made and the ideas of come up with have made it all worthwhile and highly educational, despite the thorough lack of overhead structure to my time. Admittedly, those organizations and individuals I learned most from often weren't those I'd expected, and vice-versa. In fact, I really feel like I have a lot of advice and plans to offer GBT to improve the organization as a whole...whether they listen to me/hear me at all through the bureaucratic web is another story, which frankly I'd like to save for another time. I'm not a professional biologist, or a certified wilderness guide- never claim to be. However, being here this summer has helped illuminate my background in international group-work facilitation and strategy (who'd ever thunk IOB class would come in handy, too?), finding ways to help the organization expand on its overarching goals, and allow each individual to have the most meaningful, wonderful and memorable experience with GBT that's possible.
I don't intend to brag- honestly. I don't possess any particular innate characteristics that make me better at this sort of work than anybody else- far from it. All in all, it's just a reflection of probably the most significant thing grad school has taught me: take initiative! Hanging back in the corner won't kill you, but it generally won't get you anywhere interesting in the long run, either. I'm by no means a natural leader- by the same token, I don't take well to blindly following orders (on account of which, my dad says I probably wouldn't be fit for a career in the military...which suits me fine, by the way). All in all, it seems to me that achieving success comes from speaking up.
In terms of other "deep thought"-type impressions to share, I'd say the qualities I've come to value most in people here are patience, compassion, and optimism. I'm not sure if I'm most drawn to people with these characteristics out of a shared spirit, or simple gratitude in making my time here more effective and enjoyable. Again, I by no means embody them all the time, myself, either, but I endeavor. Knowing people care about you, appreciate your company & insight, and see you as a friend first, and charge later (if at all) makes life just that much more worth living :)

cut & pasted post from buryatiasummerschool.org

After several years of using that old excuse that I’d come back to Buryatia “when I got the chance,” I finally made good on my commitment this summer. Granted, I was already in this part of the world, anyway–primarily to work on the Great Baikal Trail, and use Irkutsk as my home base.

Getting to Zakamensk (from Ulan Ude) was surprisingly simple, I found. I was seriously impressed with how organized the main bus station in Ulan Ude is, too. It’s mostly just a parking lot neatly divided into sections based on destination region with a daily schedule on display. Only thing is the bus station isn’t very close to the train station. It’s maybe a 20 minute walk if you’re feeling up for it. Otherwise, you can take a local marshrutka (I don’t know the #s, alas), or if you’re exhausted, sweaty and carrying a goatload of stuff like me, splurge on a taxi (100 rubles if you bargain hard).

The ride to Zakamensk is relatively pleasant once you break free of the Ulan Ude traffic grind. In my marshrutka, fellow passengers were very nice and helpful (if in a slightly parental fashion, which seems to follow me wherever I go…), eager to know what this seemingly wayward foreigner had in mind to do in their remote village. For the most part, my mobile (Megafon) had service along the way, and it worked fine the whole time in the village. I’ve heard people say that Megafon works best in small villages, or at least those in southern Buryatia. I personally can’t compare it to other servers, though I’m inclined to believe other companies would suffice in the village, which hosts its own cell phone tower.

In Khamney village (my primary base of operation) I was very warmly received, and was deeply touched by the efforts everyone (especially the kids) took to welcome me; I only wish I could begin to pay them back in kind. I also wish in my mad dash to finish school, gather my bags & documents and head to Russia, I had taken the time to pick up some local (i.e. California) souvenirs to offer my wonderfully generous hosts. As it was, I left the US with a few American dollars and a fistful of coins. Since Zakamensk doesn’t get a lot of foreign visitors- especially from as far away as the US- a set of coins & a dollar bill served as mementos for my host families, the local school’s English department and the regional history museum’s foreign currency collection.

My host families were extremely hospitable, giving up what little free space in their homes they had to ensure I was comfortable. It really reminded me how absolutely spoiled and extravagant many Americans (including myself) are with the amount of living space we “require” (demand). If arranged for Buryat-style living, my parents’ house could easily fit two separate families, and my [2 bedroom] apartment could take a nuclear family plus grandparents and an unmarried adult child or two for a time as needed, for example. While the limits to personal space were a bit different from what I was used to, I never really considered it problematic. Since people are used to sharing rooms (and using those rooms for many purposes), no one seemed to mind if I read, took a nap, or other similarly solitary activities from time to time while I was in the room. It seemed most houses in the village had a satellite dish in the yard, and TV is both a hobby and a background/scenery augmenter whenever somebody’s home there. Internet is very limited, I should add–especially in Khamney. Since I was there in June–thunderstorm season–we lost electricity a handful of times, and a particularly bad storm knocked out the internet cable at the school (the fastest, most reliable ‘net source most of the time). Attempts at using dial-up only tried my patience before I ultimately gave up, information unattained. If anything, at least I entertained the people around me by carrying on a colorfully angry monologue at the computer.

Before arriving in Khamney, I had thought about trying to teach students some of the basics of ecology (and the English terms used). However, I soon realized that it would be far more appropriate to stick to English language practice, and in a more ‘fun’ atmosphere–it was called “summer camp” after all. Plus I primarily worked with kids 12 & under, since teenagers were generally busy working in the fields and tending the gardens. My ecology “curriculum” (as written in my head) was really designed more for kids with some jr. high/high school science classes under their belts- the idea was that I wouldn’t be teaching them tons of completely new technical material, but reinforcing what they’d already learned, and adding a socially-minded, eco-conscious (and hopefully fun?) twist to it. For my part, I really regret not learning the Russian names for more of the local plant-life; that would’ve been very useful.

As it was, I worked mostly with kids age 8-12, some of which had no English background (namely the under 10 set) and others had a bit. Given the age of the students, their English language level, and that it was already summer vacation, I focused mostly on games I played at their age (using English words, of course), and teaching some simple songs. Some of the kids have beautiful voices, as was apparent when they sang in Russian, and even more so in Buryat.

Buryats make up the majority of the population in Khamney, though even among ethnic Russians there, my paleness sticks out like a sore thumb. I got the gambit of remarks from “wow, you are very white!” “why is your skin so pale? Are you sick?” “you need more sun,” “eat more blood sausage!” to “are you a vampire like Edward Cullen?” (the last was a joke, but a good one, I’d say). After one doozy of a sunburn at least the “more sun” demand died down a bit. For the sickness query, my response is “yes, I’ve been afflicted with English & Irish genes” (among others).

The blood sausage bit was a lost cause from the outset, pretty much. At home, I’m mostly vegetarian –fish and chicken on rare occasions, but never red meat–which was quite simply bizarre to locals in Khamney. While the extent to which they expressed their astonishment initially grew almost irritating, but I tried to chock it up to cultural differences. I reasoned that my own family and people I’m close with (many of whom are not vegetarians, I might add) would react the exact same way if a guest arrived claiming they didn’t eat any vegetables or vegetable-based products when possible: “Seriously? But they taste so good- especially when fresh,” “Almost all of our favorite recipes contain at least some vegetable products,” “growing vegetables is part of the local culture here, really,” “why don’t you eat vegetables? Is it for religious purposes?” “Some of the best vegetables in the world are grown here [central CA coast]- don’t you want to try any?” and, of course, “isn’t it unhealthy to never eat any vegetables?” Honestly, you could exchange the word “meat” for “vegetable” and “Buryatia/Mongolia” for “California,” and the sentiment would be exactly the same. Eventually people reluctantly accepted that I wasn’t going to eat the sausage links on my plate, and just ate around the pieces of meat in soups, salads & the like. Admittedly, Zakamenski raiyon is not an easy place to be vegetarian. Also, I am used to food prepared with lots of spices at home, and they often just use salt & pepper in preparing food. However, it seems almost every kitchen does have a trusted bottle of Chinese (or possibly Vietnamese?) chili sauce on the table, ready for use; these bottles became good culinary friends of mine.

As far as I could see, not very many people in the Zakamenski raiyon speak English fluently. For me, this was a blessing, since it allowed me to function entirely in Russian (an opportunity I rarely get elsewhere) though it could prove challenging for potential volunteers without a background in Russian language. I will say, for those with some knowledge of Russian, it’s a great opportunity for language immersion practice. Granted, for the few English speakers (especially English teachers at local schools), they’re desperate for practice with a native (or fluent) speaker of English, and it seems only fair to offer them the chance, as they get it so rarely. Also, if any EFL teachers out there without much knowledge of Russian want to challenge themselves, spending a few weeks teaching kids in Zakamensk would be great for skill-building, imho. FYI, Mongolian speakers could probably get by in the villages, too- in case you were interested.

Well, there’s my babbling for you. All in all, I really enjoyed my time in Zakamenski raiyon and hope to return ASAP. Spread the word to anyone you know with an interest in Buryat life & culture, work with enthusiastic kids, or just making a little difference in somebody’s life they won’t soon forget :-)