Leaving the Barren Steppe for Eternal Light in Siberia

When I was first nominated for Peace Corps Central Asia, I was told that I would be working as an English teacher during the school year and in the summer, I would organize and run sports camps—GASP!! For those of you who know me, you are aware that I am no sportsman and the idea assisting über-athletic Kazakhstanis in sports is comical. Luckily for me, Peace Corps doesn’t mean everything it says and I was free to choose my own summer work plans.

For most of the year, I live and work in Balkhash, which is in the south-central part of the country and surrounded by barren, uninhabited, flat nothingness. As a result, I jumped at the first opportunity to volunteer in the north of the country, around the city of Petropavlovsk. Petropavlovsk juts pretty deep into Russian Siberia and is populated mostly by Russians. In fact, the region is basically part of Russia—many people run on Moscow time and the train station is actually considered Russian territory. Technically, this part of the country is also considered steppe, but it is vastly different from the steppe in which I live. It is grassy, contains pockets of birch forests, and is one of the country’s two breadbaskets. For any history buffs out there, this was where Khrushchev executed his Virgin Lands program. Petropavlovsk itself has around 200,000 people, has a pretty decent nightlife, and is close by the Ishim River, in which I almost drowned.

I arrived in the north to take part in a summer camp with some other volunteers, but in true local fashion the camp was delayed and I was forced to chill out in the city for a few days. When we finally arrived at the camp, it was a true, Soviet-era, Pioneer Camp (Communist propaganda camp)! There were red stars galore and statues of children in glorious poses in honor of the motherland. Also, the camp was littered with scores of seesaws and other such playground fixtures and there was one field that my friend Tim referred to as a “freak carnival bazaar.” Our role at the camp was to conduct English clubs and help cabins prepare activities and games. However, Kazakhstani camps are a bit different from American camps. The next day’s plans were always organized at 11o’clock the night before, which was deceiving because the sun didn’t set until almost midnight. We thus had to spend each day frantically preparing for that afternoon’s concert and series of games. For those South Park fans out there, I was strongly reminded of the episode in where the kids are sent to what is basically a concentration camp to correct their bigotry. There is one scene where a Nazi guard is yelling at the children to draw crayon pictures of friendship and pulls out a gun to make them work harder. Minus the gun, this is exactly what I witnessed one day when kids had to prepare crayon pictures to decorate some building. However, there were also a lot of fun activities that we participated in such as Pioneer Ball, which is a Soviet version of volleyball, and Joyful Soccer, in which the counselors and volunteers, dressed as clowns and with no requirement to observe any of the rules, got to compete against the campers. I had a fun time and would like to participate again next year.

After two weeks at the camp, I decided last minute to participate in a Russian learning camp for volunteers a bit farther south in Shuchinsk. This area is famous for being the gateway to Borovoe, which is nicknamed “the Switzerland of Kazakhstan.” Although far from being Switzerland, Borovoe does have beautiful mountains, pine forests, and great lakes. When you haven’t seen anything of the sort for the past year, it is pretty stunning. Yet even though it was July, it was cold and rainy and so we couldn’t swim often. I spent about a week there before I returned to Balkhash.

One of the greatest things about this summer was finally experiencing the trains. Nearly all volunteers travel around by train, but since Balkhash isn’t located on a main route, I have always taken a bus. I got my chance when I was in Almaty and took a 31-hour train ride to Petropavlovsk. I had brought plenty of reading material and had fully charged my i-pod to prepare for what I thought would be an incredible boring trip. However, it turned out that I struggled to find time to read! Kazakhs are known for their hospitality and I think this is nowhere better demonstrated than on the trains. In second-class cars, passengers are put into open cubicles with six bunks and a small table at one end. In my cubicle, there were a husband and wife, an old teacher of disabled kids, and two university students. The entire 31 hours was like one long tea party. Everyone put out the food they had brought and all were expected to take without asking. This generosity was so unsettling that I kind of wished I could just eat what I brought, even though their food was so much better. We quickly bonded, mostly through their initiative, and we didn’t fall asleep until late at night. Through the eyes of an American, there is of course a lot to criticize in a former Soviet country. But the sense of camaraderie with strangers and almost unconscious generosity with limited possessions is a cultural attribute that the United States sadly lacks.