More from Sakar

I slept poorly on the train and dismounted with my counterpart to a rainy city. The pocked road was full of puddles I tried to make mental notes of my surroundings, but little stuck. As it turned out, the bus took us to a bazaar where my counterpart bought a pair of boos, some toy cars for her nephew and a large blanket. I would say that I was a bit put out by this. She had had been on the same 14-hour train ride; did she really wish to go shopping? Also, a trip to the bazaar meant I actual didn’t know how long it would take to go from the village to the train station. I had heard varying estimates from 20 to 45 minutes and was interested in actual differences. On the other had, the bazaar did give a good impression of Lebap’s liberality. There were women wearing jeans and shorter (knee-length) skirts.

The taxi ride to Sakar filled me with glee. For some reason, that expression seems awkward and wrong. But with glee was I filled, because Lebap has grass and trees. There are trees in Ahal, but they all seemed stunted and half-alive, like trees that grow in the salty mist of the ocean. The trees they have in Lebap are full and proper and have fall colors, mostly yellow, but some peaking of the pinkish orange of maple. Instead of camels, there are donkeys, and with the rain, the earth smelled wet and lush. Some of the roofs are piled high with hay, giving them an almost British air. The houses are made of brick from a yellow clay, instead of the whitewashed concrete in Herrick-Gala.

Now, on to the family and house. The difference is almost indescribable and I find myself thinking: “Is this Turkmenistan?” I guess my shock is something to keep in mind any time I believe I know something bout anything. For one, the kitchen is indoors and would be, aside from the ingredients, completely familiar to any American. The bathroom (NOTE: “bathroom” means bathing room, not toilet.) is in a separate building next to the kitchen, and has a full shower and a “washing machine” which resembles a garbage can with an agitator. It doesn’t fill or drain automatically but the setup has a faucet right above to fill it. So, keeping my clothes clean and myself clean should be quite a bit easier. I know it must seem strange to go on and on about the house’s amenities, but these things really sent me into a state of material shock that I still hardly believe. It doesn’t seem right, somehow. As in how did I get assigned to a family with all this? And they have a cow, a giant marmalade at and two overzealous guard dogs.

Now, the family. I finally have my dream of sisters. I have three sisters in the house. One is 20, and a nurse at the clinic where I will work. The next is 17, the next 15 (those two are students). There is also an older sister, married with two young children, but married women move to their husband’s home. These sisters are also a dream situation, both because it is great for my language skills and because I may very well wish to work with this age group, training them to be health educators, so I have an immediate connection. All of the children speak some degree of English, and two of them said they wish for English in their careers, as English teacher and interpreter. The parents are also very educated; the mother is a gynecologist, the father a pharmacist. It is also an interesting family because the mother is Tartar and Russian is her first language while the father is Turkmen. I’m not sure that that type of union is common. The girls explained, however, “We are Turkmen, because our father is Turkmen.” When the mother speaks Turkmen, about 30% of the words are Russian. In this town, this seems fairly common. I don’t recognize much of the vocabulary, and many of the words seem to have a Russian accent. I’m going to bed now, but look forward to the following topics (as thought you must wait while I sleep).

1. The Party
2. The English Club
3. Exciting events yet to happen, for who knows what tomorrow will bring?