A Kazakh Toi

I've accepted that living in a new country generally means I'll be confused anywhere between 40% and 90% of the time. Different languages, customs and cultural beliefs represent some of the expected obstacles to communication and understanding. But when moving to a new country where every day to day action works differently it can sometimes feel like you're an infant again trying to understand the world around you.

I was having a pretty good lesson with my grade 12s learning about enzyme inhibitors by making models of the various enzyme-inhibitor interactions.

Of course I am still in Asia so all the students have cute pencil cases such as Scat from Ice Age

These creative students made models of themselves in the bottom left corner to sign their work

Inside the classroom the knowledge was flowing but outside the sun was rising higher in the sky and the temperature was starting to challenge my sweat glands into activation so I decided to open the door, an action I must have done a million times in my life. With a gentle turn of the handle and a soft push on the door I was startled to learn that the door would not open. The thud of the door drew the attention of my students and one kindly explained that there is a button to the side of the door that I need to push the button first. Alright thanks, back to work students, nothing to see here. With the push of a button, a turn of the handle and a push on the door; another loud thud of failure. This time a student got out of their seat, pushed the button, politely explained you need to wait 2 seconds, then opened the door. Apparently every room in Kazakhstan is a locked escape room. I simply replied by telling the student he is a magician then started wondering how these students will have any confidence in my ability to teach them if I can't even open a door. 

The rest of the lessons for the week went pretty smoothly. I had a portrait drawn by a very artistic student while we were practicing calculating linear magnification. 

Looks just like me!

And I was all set to go for the following day's lab when I was asked to please buy some hydrogen peroxide for the experiment. Very wisely I had the lab technician write out exactly what I needed to buy.

With my first and only clue I set out on my mission. Naturally, I did what everyone would do in this situation - stopped for something to eat. While waiting for my takeout Chinese food from essentially a chip truck I realized wait a second, I don't even know where to buy hydrogen peroxide in my own country. But before I could dwell on how dire this situation had become in a twist of fate I heard a friendly voice "good day teacher" and turned to see a student wearing my school's uniform. Ah, this must be my fairy godmother. I greeted the student, showed her my clue and asked her where to buy this item. She told me there was a market just around the corner and she would be happy to walk there with me and help me buy the H2O2. But when we got to the market they didn't have any and we were told this product is only sold at pharmacies. Ooooh situation. With the next clue on my scavenger hunt discovered I thanked the student and said she could get going as she probably had lots of homework or other things to do. But with eyes wide, in Mickey Mouse voice, and nearly jumping out of her sneakers she exclaimed "But I want to help you! I want to talk to you more!". Ok, ok you can help me, just don't explode, wow. 

Mission complete!

Perhaps the most confusing moment of my Kazakhstan career was in Trevor vs the Russian washing machine. Spoiled with a maid in Indonesia for 4 years I had certainly forgotten all of what were very subpar laundry skills to begin with. With hoses unconnected and all instructions in Russian I knew that I was in for a challenge. Nevertheless I gave my plumbing and laundry skills a pretty honest effort before asking for help. This is not because I am a capable handyman or do it yourselfer, please don't feel proud of my attempt. I tried so hard because the alternative was a google translate conversation with my landlady which is far worse, but in the end was my only option. 

A few hours later a plumber showed up at my house and it would be optimistic to say we spoke 3 words in common. Nonetheless he fixed up a few things and did a trial run. He and I watched the machine spin together for 30 minutes in silence. Afterwards he said a lot of words that I was able to take some meaning from including the direction to turn the dial, when to pull the dial, and that the machine won't open until a few minutes after its stopped. Then we ran the same load of laundry again and watched together in silence for 30 minutes. After this load he took some of my clothes out, motioned for me to put them back in and turn on the machine again. Already about 58 minutes over my capacity for watching a washing machine spin I had to find any excuse to walk away. I went and poured him a glass of water and offered it to him but he declined. Are ya sure man, I can see beads of sweat on your forehead. He then told me a lot more things in Russian and when it was clear I didn't understand he called his son to translate. His son and I optimistically spoke 15 words in common. He passed me the phone and I was thinking great, you've just switched the situation from you and I not being able to communicate to me and a 10 year old not be able to communicate over the phone while you continue to speak to me in Russian simultaneously. Eventually it was understood (I had to call a local friend I hardly knew to help translate) that he was going to leave and come back to buy a part. 

When he returned an hour later it was with his son. Wait a minute Mr. Plumber man. Are you and your family moving in with me? I mean, I don't really mind. My apartment's got lots of space and you're clearly pretty handy with a washing machine. Anyways he proceeded to wash the same load of clothes a 4th time, then followed by a 5th time in which the 10 year old walked me through each step and after 4 hours they took off and I was finally able to rescue my clothes from the laundry machine. This whole ordeal was on Sunday and I still smelled like laundry detergent on Wednesday. At the moment of writing this I've had another issue with my washing machine not working, I just don't have it in me today to call him and spend another Sunday watching clothes spin in silence in my washroom with a family. 

Every day I am trying new things and experiencing something new. I bumped into a traveller from Austria, simply out of hearing someone speaking English so investigating. Together we went to a Kazakh place and tried some national dishes. 

Beshbarmak

Tea (no Kazakhstan meal is complete without it), apples (see below), and Kymuz - This is fermented horse milk and they love it here. I once heard it described as "its not JUST sour. Its also bitter."

Klemens and I "enjoying" some fermented horse milk with our waitress joining in the photo

At another table there was a birthday party and they were very curious to know where we were from, ask us for a photo, and offer us some of their food (including apples). At any Kazakh celebration it is common to fill the table with food until you can't see any more table. Whether anyone is eating it or not is besides the point.

So much food! At least everyone takes home bags of it afterwards

The coolest thing I've experienced in my first two weeks here was hands down a Kazakh wedding or a Toi as they call it. I've only lived in this city for two weeks and already I am being invited to weddings, sounds pretty awesome right? Until you realize that Kazakhs invite everyone to their wedding, and they have days and days of events. The daughter of one of the biology teachers at my school was getting married and so for the event hosted by the parents of the bride, myself and the rest of the biology department were invited. 

The wedding went a little like this:

Every table looked like this upon arrival

The head table for the bride, groom, and 2 other important people

Table 5 was my table!

Notice that the whole wedding hall is empty? This is because we were invited there for 6:00, I showed up at 8:00, but no one else arrived until at least 9:00. 

Once the guests arrived it was time to let the festivities begin!

The food is phenomenal and endless

Each table has two servers who are constantly refilling your plate and glass

They had multiple high tech cameras used to film the entire event

With multiple projector screens so everyone could have a great view of all the performances, speeches and dancing

They had many performers in pretty cool costumes

The girls in the fancier white costumes helped to reveal the bride from her curtained hiding spot and walk her to the head table. 

Of course I would

The bride and groom are in the middle

Lots of songs

The village elders giving their speeches

Millions of speeches

I gave a speech! Which is hilarious

Lots and lots of vodka

Lots and lots of dancing

If you think you'd like to dance along check out this Kazakh song that we danced to at the wedding https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAJ5D2Np5Io

The national dish served at all weddings is beshbarmak. It is horse meat. Sorry mom, I know this probably breaks your heart but its one of the most common meats eaten in Kazakhstan and I am just trying to immerse in the culture, I promise I won't eat horse when I get back to Canada. (But to be honest, its very tasty). Beshbarmak translates to "five fingers" because it'll be most tasty if enjoyed with your hands. 

The serving of the beshbarmak begins with music and a parading of the plates

In some aspects, Kazakhstan is several decades behind in the feminist movement so there are a lot of traditions in terms of gender roles. It's tradition that the males at the table cut the beshbarmak, and so torn between empowering woman and respecting the cultural tradition (oh and the fact that I have no idea how to cut horse meat!), I was tasked with the cutting of the beshbarmak

The newlyweds happily(?) dancing

More vodka because why not

A photo of our table; the NIS biology department

My buddy's hilarious observation of the above photo

A bit of soup as a final course

This entire event was called a Kyz Uzatu, which is the ceremony for the daughter leaving her mom's house. This photo was of the very emotional (everyone was crying) walking out of the bride. As is tradition she is not allowed to look behind her.

To be completely honest I can vividly recall one moment in the past few weeks where I thought to myself with a bit of frustration and a lot of uncertainty "what on Earth am I doing in Kazakhstan?". On the other end of the spectrum there were at least 10 moments at the Kazakhstan wedding where I thought to myself "wow, what a cool opportunity and cultural worldliness that I would never have experienced if I hadn't taken on this adventure". Keep the good times rolling Kazakhstan.