Today's Poem

J, an enterprising eighth grader, composed this haiku on my board in his spare time today, largely inspired by Romeo and Juliet:

Miss K-pat has thumbs -

Do you bite your thumb at me?

Yeah, uh, I guess so.

Mastercardclass

I'm getting quite a lot of search hits for "mastercard atm bishkek" so I thought I would post something useful about this topic.

The only bank in Bishkek from which you can withdraw cash on a Mastercard is KazKom (Казкоммерцбанк), the Kazakh bank here. There are several ATMs in the following locations:

1. Tzum, on the outside of the building facing Chui. There's also one inside, on the first floor, at the very back.

2. The main KazKom branch is on the corner of Sovietskaya and Bokonbaeva. There are several ATMs there, and some of the staff speak English.

3. Dordoi Plaza. First floor, central aisle, there are a couple of ATMs. One is KazKom.

4. Along Chui, headed west, just past Ala-Too Square, there is a very small machine in a wall. You have to look closely to see that it's KazKom. It's before all the travel agencies.

There may be other locations, but I've never found them. It took several months for me to accumulate all that knowledge, and I hope that it may prove useful to someone, somewhere! Generally, I wouldn't advise travelling in Central Asia with a Mastercard. Visa is much more widespread here.

Enjoyment in His Toil

Our staff meeting this afternoon was conducted to a chorus of birds and accompanied by a pleasant breeze. These verses were read to open proceedings:

There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God, for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment?
- Ecclesiastes 2:24-25

The meeting was about looking to next year (since there is less than a month left of this one, and the new one starts in August) and asking some good questions about 'wellness;' what we can do better to ensure our health and energy and joy - to find enjoyment in our toil - since the last six months have sapped a little from all of us. It was reviving to be in that room, full of sunlight and a lot of fascinating, intent people, weaving together a vision of the year to come and thinking about the joy there will be and considering the hand of God in everything.

Every contemplation of a new working year should start with these verses, I believe.

Smoke - George MacDonald

Today, I'm sharing this poem by the old master, George MacDonald. I found it on Ali's blog (which sometimes seems like a collection of good things curated especially for me - thanks Ali). This is a beautiful picture of the Holy Spirit moving in a cold heart - God's grace and giving is limitless. The imagery of spluttering smoke and lightning has stayed with me.

Smoke

Lord, I have laid my heart upon thy altar
But cannot get the wood to burn;
It hardly flares ere it begins to falter
And to the dark return.

Old sap, or night-fallen dew, makes damp the fuel;
In vain my breath would flame provoke;
Yet see—at every poor attempt's renewal
To thee ascends the smoke!

'Tis all I have—smoke, failure, foiled endeavour,
Coldness and doubt and palsied lack:
Such as I have I send thee!—perfect Giver,
Send thou thy lightning back.

- George MacDonald

Rooibos Tea

I recently and publicly bemoaned the lack of rooibos tea in Bishkek. Since then, friends have bought me rooibos from the States and the UK respectively, and I've been sent some from Australia. At least a six-month-worth of tea sits on my desk. This is comforting in several ways: firstly, I will not lack for delicious hot caffeine-free beverages any time soon; and secondly, I am ridiculously blessed by friends and family, who rise to meet me when I lack something, even the smallest of somethings. God is good to me.

Old Shoes & TB

Rudely awakened!

There are two possible explanations for this. Either the downstairs neighbours have enacted a rousing polka with broomsticks, or there was a minor earthquake just now. 

A quick glance at Facebook tells me that it was the latter. As always, I can only trust (blindly) in the foresight of Soviet architects, since the alternative is paralysing fear/planning a third-storey leap.

Here in Bishkek, ice is melting into veritable rivers. A half-hearted rainy mist has descended on the city. Walking is a half-skating, half-trudging locomotion, and my shoes are nearly ruined. Luckily, they're only imitation Ugg-boots from Dordoi Bazaar. The soles of them have been replaced twice and I don't think they warrant a third, so I'll be throwing them out shortly, having exercised my money's worth. 

Got my yearly tuberculosis test today. It involved a needle, which I had forgotten since last time, and was therefore psychologically unprepared. I did what I usually do when threatened with needles, which is screw my eyes shut and pinch my thighs in such a manner that welts appear later. It works, though. The greater pain cancels out the other, and the fact of not seeing the needle also helps.

The other notable thing that happened today was a visit to a music store. I discovered a little Yamaha shop here, hidden away; quite the find, because it means we don't have to ship equipment from the States at an exorbitant price. I say this because of an extraordinary episode of fundraising has just occurred; the school drums and keyboard and microphone cables recently decided to cark it all at once, after a long decline. After a flurry of letter-writing and responses from truly the most generous friends in the world, enough money was raised to purchase new equipment. This is why we're able to pick up a new keyboard tomorrow, and place an electronic drum kit on order. It all sounds very prosaic, but I'm not exaggerating when I say that raising this money was a profound, humbling, and educational experience. More anon.

November

The longer you leave a blog alone, the harder it can be to kickstart it. With fear and trembling, I pick up my pen (read:keyboard) to tell you, gentle readers, about the last two months of my life in Bishkek.

Okay, that sounds like I'm dying or about to leave Bishkek. Regardless -

The weather is a safely innocuous place to start, if you can call six inches of snow innocuous. It's a been a freezing fortnight. I routinely walk to school in the dark, upon sidewalks with the shape and texture of a bowling ball, while my nose hairs freeze and my bazaar-bought boots leak a little ice-water. The first step from the padyest involves a coughing fit as my lungs seize up in -19 Celsius.

School is reasonably warm, however, and the apartment fluctuates between lukewarm and toastywarm. That is a true blessing, given the frequent electricity and gas outages.

Here's a brief overview of my weekly schedule: School, school, English conversation club, school, Bible study, school school school, drama auditions, SRC meetings, church, school school school. Did I forget anything? Oh yeah, school. Good thing I really enjoy school.

Any word becomes weirdly foreign when you say it repeatedly.

There's an exciting event on the horizon. I'm going to Thailand for ten days over Christmas to visit my sister and parents, taking only t-shirts and sandals (and related clothing) and a bag full of gifts, leaving an ice-bound city in my wake. This is a happy-making thought indeed.

 There. Consider my blog kickstarted. I'll try to write something more lively this week. In the meantime, here's a picture of me and my new flatmate (also colleague), taken on Twin Day. Note lens-less glasses and Germanic hairdo, both courtesy of said flatmate.