Tales, troublemakers, Thailand

Part of the PC experience includes meeting a lot of interesting people from many walks of life. Some include violent, uneducated, and ill-bred individuals, but most are simply people, like you and me. It sounds corny, I’ll admit, but lately I’ve taken more to being a friendly person, offering small help when I can. I know I’m a Peace Corps volunteer and it’s my job to help, but my service – even after only one year – has become quite jaded. These small, random encounters help me survive mentally. I will recount a few of thee tales from the past few days.

The first tale is of a couple I passed while walked down the street in Almaty. From the first glance, they had “hopeless American” written on their foreheads. The man was trying to hail a cab and apparently had never been to Kazakhstan or NYC. I passed them and kind of grinned at their naivety, but then I thought… why are they here? So I casually looped around to pass them again and I approached them and said, “Excuse me, you two trying to get a cab?” They were quite shocked, to say the least. I didn’t quite have the heart to tell them how sorely they stood out, but I did demonstrate the proper hand signal. A couple from Texas living in Pittsburgh, they were adopting a child. What a miracle indeed! I got a cab and negotiated a fair price and told them what kind of price limit they should pay when returning. Cab drivers will rip off foreigners who don’t speak the language in a heart beat. My only regret was that I didn’t give the couple my business card.

The second story is about a drunk guy I met named Murat. As I was sitting outside of a shopping mall, waiting to meet a friend, Murat asked me a question about his cell phone from where he was seated, about 3 meters from myself. My accented answer apparently activated an arousing (ok, I admit, I thought about that alliteration a bit…) of interest in me. As he sat down beside me, very inside my personal bubble of a year ago (which has since been reduced to comfortable cuddling with smoky, drunk men), I learned that he’d been to Boston and got to see his favorite basketball player, Larry “птица” (Byrd) and I also learned that he was “the authority” in this part of town and he would not only beat up my assailants, but any “дурак” (dumbass) whom I chose. He himself being a Kazakh, he assured me that not all Kazakhs were violent, and my fears were assuaged.

Dina is the third person, the friend for whom I was waiting at the mall. Though having only spoken maybe 3 times on Skype and once on the phone, I felt I had known her for many years, even as we had only met for the first time. Hanging out until 3:30am proved a good way to confirm that; lost in the early morning hours, deep in conversation. The following night at a coffee shop showed similar results; how strange that I’d find someone so different, yet so like me mentally. A practically genius of a girl, Dina speaks Russian, English, and German fluently, works about 12 hours a day and then attends night school to earn her Master’s, designs her own clothes, plays guitar, and is an amazing photographer. Makes me wonder what things I could accomplish if I were as motivated as she.

And the fourth includes a strange move on my part. As I got a very early call from the Peace Corps Medical Officer (PCMO) telling me I was going to Thailand the next morning, I had to get up and get my passport so he could have my ticket booked. I was groggy, tired, and my clothes were not matching. But I went down there and there was a soccer team checking out. They were Americans who only spoke a few words of Russian and there was some discrepancy about the bill. I just wanted to get my passport and go back to sleep, but I decided to ask if they needed help translating. So I spent the next 30 minutes interpreting for them and then went back to bed.

Regardless of how I feel about this country sometimes, I’ve come to observe that small and seemingly meaningless acts can morph one’s mood in an instant. Playing peek-a-boo on the bus with a 2-year old, helping lost Americans, entertaining a drunken Larry Byrd fan, or dealing with the occasional troublemaker – they all have their lessons and purposes. Part of making a commitment like the Peace Corps is taking the bad with the good. Life’s never been perfect, shit happens everywhere. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like Kazakhstan has become a home away from home; at least for a little while.

Wish me safe travels in Thailand, trekking through the timeless Theravada temples, touching and touring theological treasures and thought that thrived throughout time.