Returning from the Land of Normalcy

For three-weeks at the end of December, I revisited “reality” and “the normal life,” ie the United States. The previous sixteen months I had spent in Kazakhstan was the longest unbroken period I had been in one country, including the United States. In Kazakhstan I live with a family, have a real job, and converse almost exclusive with locals (in Russian). In essence, I’ve become integrated in a community significantly different from my native one. Thus for the first time in my life, I had the opportunity to view my home country with partially foreign eyes. Below I recount some of the differences I observed between the United States and Kazakhstan.

On the third or fourth day I was back in New York, I was riding on the subway staring at a man wearing a hat that read South Africa. I was wondering if he was a tourist and why he was becoming all fidgety when my mom yanked my shirt and told me to stop making that man feel so uncomfortable. Apparently, I had forgotten one of the main survival rules in New York—No Staring! At least in New York, there is a mindset that one should not violate a stranger’s personal space by interacting with him or her. Such rules and mindsets are completely absent in Balkhash. In a similar situation with reversed roles, I was on a train going to Karaganda in which there were also a bunch of Balkhash students from another school. As soon as one of the girls identified who I was to the rest of the group, they all began to trade the information that they had heard about me. They pointed at me, laughed, and spoke about me loudly in Russian. Although they never engaged me, I actually didn’t feel that awkward. I understood that I was still something of a novelty and they were just interested.

And I guess this leads to the general difference in attitude towards privacy. Back in the United States, my space was MY SPACE. I needed my own room to which I could withdraw when I wanted to be on my own. Peace Corps recognizes this sentiment and requires that all volunteers living with a host family have their own room with a lock. So I was a little surprised when I returned back to Balkhash two weeks ago and saw that my room was turned into the computer room/a continuation of the family room. Although it is still my room, my two host sisters regularly come in and work on the computer even when I am sleeping. But what was the biggest shock? I didn’t actually care that much. I could say it was because I understood in Kazakh culture privacy from family members is non-existent and I wanted to be open-minded and accepting. But that type of logic doesn’t work on me. Instead, I guess I had already adjusted to “how things are” in Kazakhstan. I still think having privacy is required in my life, but I am glad that I can now live in a place where privacy doesn’t really translate over.

My favorite difference, however, is over political stances. I know Peace Corps completely frowns upon engaging in political conversation, but locals always confront me so it is fine to respond. From the summer war in Georgia to the recent Russian-Ukrainian gas row, locals receive a completely different set of facts and opinions. The main news stations in Kazakhstan are based in Russia and they broadcast what I initially thought was pure dribble. For example, when reporting on the Georgian war, footage of the Georgian president Saakashvili speaking was phased out by nearly identical footage of Hitler speaking at rallies and then followed by Saakashvili surrounded by religious Jews speaking at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem (I don’t get the last message…controlled by the Jews?). Anyway, this really irritated me and anytime I tried to argue the opposite side people would pull out either total lies or irrelevant facts. I blamed it all on the Russian media and thought that if the locals just 1) watched Western news sources only and 2) recognized that they were much less biased than Russian ones, then everyone would know the truth and be happy. But after visiting the United States I recognized that Americans are just as ignorant of the “true” facts, blame Russians for everything, and watch media that is also heavily and unjustifiably biased. I’m still an ardent American patriot but I no longer spend so much energy trying to convince locals of the unwavering righteousness of American actions. I still argue and still hold very different opinions, but I prefer to spend my political talk time just learning their opinions and questioning their justifications. I continue to believe that people here have a very skewed sense of the global reality (as do Americans), but for the first time I have learned to deal with it and not force my opinions.

And now the most important difference: locals in Kazakhstan do not get hurt. The other day, my new site mate Christina and I were walking on frozen Lake Balkhash when we came across a huge cross (12 feet long) carved into the ice and some kids playing near the exposed water. She wanted to warn them and I advised her that there is nothing to fear; people simply don’t get hurt. As I described earlier, Balkhash looks like post-war Chechnya. Deep holes exist sporadically along walking paths and the public spaces surrounded by apartments are nothing more than dirt moguls (such as on double black diamond ski slopes). In every city in Kazakhstan, each person would have several dozen lawsuits pending against the municipal government if such a legal options were available. Since they aren’t, people content themselves with not tripping over missing stairs in public housing or falling into uncovered manholes. My host grandfather can barely walk across the living room, and yet he frequently climbs down 5 flights of broken stairs and traverses 200 meters of rolling mud hills crisscrossed by knee-level pipes to visit us. This is the greatest mystery in Kazakhstan and whose secrets I am not yet privileged to learn.

Last month I thought I was leaving the crazy country that is Kazakhstan and returning to the land of the normal. Yet while the “reality” and “normal life” I expected to encounter was there, it was no more real or normal than my life in Kazakhstan. Yes, the two places are vastly different. But I think now I have an ability to comfortably interact in two dissimilar communities and not feel lost in either. That is a comfort to remember for my last nine months of service.