It's hard to believe we'll be leaving Kazakhstan in just under a week. On the other hand, it feels like no big deal, like it is time to move on and China is the next destination. It feels right to be going there. Kazakhstan has been a strange destination. As Joe and I were chatting tonight, I reminded him that I hardly even knew this country existed two years ago. Now, I live in this massive country, yet I still know only a little bit of it. We only know Almaty and we're not sure how much more there is to know. We don't get the feeling that we've missed any of the sights.
As we prepare to leave, we have been asking ourselves what we will miss. For Joe, he has two specifics - shashlik (grilled meat kabobs) and the availability and variety of beer. (You should see the variety of vodka available.) For both of us, our nanny, her daughter, and our friends from school. No matter where we go, it's the people who are the hardest to leave behind. A friend who has been overseas for two years commented the other night, "Man, in international teaching, you have to say goodbye a lot." It's definitely true, and it doesn't get any easier, just more normal.
We have had a good two years. Last year was baby year. We didn't do too much since much of our lives were wrapped up in learning how to be parents and balancing working at a new school at the same time. This year has been fun. We have gotten to know a group of teachers very well, often hanging out and having a good time together. We are definitely going to miss that comraderie.
Kazakhstan itself? Well, shashlik and beer, as mentioned. When we first came here, we loved the trees, and I do still like that about Almaty. When we can see them, the mountains. I have been waking up in the morning, looking out the window and feeling like I'm in some lovely European village. (Of course, then I see the Soviet-style cement apartment buildings and sigh. Nope, this definitely ain't Europe.) We like the big parks, the amusing nature of how old things can feel, like we are intruders in an older time, an older, more communist time.
What won't we miss? Traffic, crazy, annoying, polluting traffic. We won't miss (especially Joe) trying to weezle into parking spaces that don't actually exist. We won't miss the dirt, the litter, the pollution, the drab winter mornings that last forever. We won't miss how long it takes to get around town on roads clogged with traffic that was never meant to be there. We won't miss cabbage, potatoes, beets or dill on every dish (maybe just cabbage blini/crepes). We won't miss the feeling of being stuck in the Truman Show and never being able to escape the boundaries of the city.
Kazakhstan has not been like the Borat movie, I can say that. It has been oddly modern, very post-communist, and it's own mix of backward and forward. We are moving on, hoping the air will be better and the goods cheaper. We are hopeful for a better situation, but we will miss our friends here.
On a different note, it is time for school to be done. We are simply biding time, and Joe and I can't wait to take Sophia back to Iowa for an idyllic summer. I'm sure that's exactly what it will be ;) Here's to the next unknown.
As we prepare to leave, we have been asking ourselves what we will miss. For Joe, he has two specifics - shashlik (grilled meat kabobs) and the availability and variety of beer. (You should see the variety of vodka available.) For both of us, our nanny, her daughter, and our friends from school. No matter where we go, it's the people who are the hardest to leave behind. A friend who has been overseas for two years commented the other night, "Man, in international teaching, you have to say goodbye a lot." It's definitely true, and it doesn't get any easier, just more normal.
We have had a good two years. Last year was baby year. We didn't do too much since much of our lives were wrapped up in learning how to be parents and balancing working at a new school at the same time. This year has been fun. We have gotten to know a group of teachers very well, often hanging out and having a good time together. We are definitely going to miss that comraderie.
Kazakhstan itself? Well, shashlik and beer, as mentioned. When we first came here, we loved the trees, and I do still like that about Almaty. When we can see them, the mountains. I have been waking up in the morning, looking out the window and feeling like I'm in some lovely European village. (Of course, then I see the Soviet-style cement apartment buildings and sigh. Nope, this definitely ain't Europe.) We like the big parks, the amusing nature of how old things can feel, like we are intruders in an older time, an older, more communist time.
What won't we miss? Traffic, crazy, annoying, polluting traffic. We won't miss (especially Joe) trying to weezle into parking spaces that don't actually exist. We won't miss the dirt, the litter, the pollution, the drab winter mornings that last forever. We won't miss how long it takes to get around town on roads clogged with traffic that was never meant to be there. We won't miss cabbage, potatoes, beets or dill on every dish (maybe just cabbage blini/crepes). We won't miss the feeling of being stuck in the Truman Show and never being able to escape the boundaries of the city.
Kazakhstan has not been like the Borat movie, I can say that. It has been oddly modern, very post-communist, and it's own mix of backward and forward. We are moving on, hoping the air will be better and the goods cheaper. We are hopeful for a better situation, but we will miss our friends here.
On a different note, it is time for school to be done. We are simply biding time, and Joe and I can't wait to take Sophia back to Iowa for an idyllic summer. I'm sure that's exactly what it will be ;) Here's to the next unknown.
