As many of you know, I live in Kochkor, Naryn Oblast, Kyrgyzstan. I could ask some rather daunting existential questions about what that really means and hope that the metaphysical discussion that ensues assures me that I am actually at home with my family, but that probably wouldn’t be nearly as interesting as just talking about my family. That, and this way I can put some pictures up, too!
In Kyrgyzstan, the family is sacred but ubiquitous. When dealing with strangers on the street, you refer to them as “bi-kay” (brother) or “A-Jay” (sister). I refer to all the women as “Your Name A-Jay.” My actually family, however, is a little bit smaller than “everyone.” I have a father, mother, and four brothers. Do not fear, though. I am handling my own in this new experience of sibling bonding (I do love you Justin, but c’mon, you left when I was pretty young).
My Ata’s (dad’s) name is Cuban (pronounced with a long u). To be honest, I am not exactly sure what he does for a living, though he certainly does do something. I do know that he works at a school (or multiple, possibly), but he makes sure people know he is not a teacher. He carries a binder with him to work and sometimes he runs through numbers at home after work. I have decided to offer a reward for the first person to guess what exactly it is that he does. Once I figure it out, I will pay out. Anyway, he is an extremely warm man who still insists that
my little brothers do everything for me.
My Apa’s (mom’s) name is Satagul. She is a Kyrgyz language teacher and, essentially, a vice principal at one of the schools in Kochkor. She also is one of the primary cooperative members at Altyn Kol. I’m pretty sure that is why I am living with them, since my work had to come up with somewhere for me to live before they got a volunteer. She is a very sweet lady and she even made me slippers when I told her I couldn’t find any big enough for me here (size 12 doesn’t really translate well over here). She is a great cook and every time I pay her my monthly rent, she gives me a speech about how I need to ask for help more often. Oh, and she is quite wee.
Brothers in Kyrgyzstan are separated into two very distinct groups. The aforementioned “bi-kay”s, which are older brothers, and “Ee-nee”s, which are the younger brothers. I have one of the prior and three of the latter. I do not know my older brother. I have yet to meet him as of press time and to be honest cannot remember his name. My oldest “Ee-nee” is Nurdin. He is about 6 months my junior and though it feels weird, I am to refer to him as an inferior in the language (Note: see entry on language). Nurdin just recently bought a car and is currently a taxi driver from Kochkor to Bishkek and lives with us.
Azamat, 18, is currently studying foreign languages and computers at university in Bishkek. To be honest, his English is pretty much on par with mine and I’m pretty sure he has read more books in my mother tongue. He is a very sharp kid, even though he likes 50 Cent (the rapper, for anybody who doesn’t know him). Aziz, 13, is the youngest brother and the one I hang out with the most. He is in 7th form (grade) and doesn’t mind repeating things 20 times before I understand it. He’s a pretty normal kid who likes to tinker with his bike and doesn’t always like doing his chores. He does whatever I need done though, because I am his “bi-kay.” I try not to abuse the power, but sometimes I just don’t want to help clean up!
In Kyrgyzstan, the family is sacred but ubiquitous. When dealing with strangers on the street, you refer to them as “bi-kay” (brother) or “A-Jay” (sister). I refer to all the women as “Your Name A-Jay.” My actually family, however, is a little bit smaller than “everyone.” I have a father, mother, and four brothers. Do not fear, though. I am handling my own in this new experience of sibling bonding (I do love you Justin, but c’mon, you left when I was pretty young).
My Ata’s (dad’s) name is Cuban (pronounced with a long u). To be honest, I am not exactly sure what he does for a living, though he certainly does do something. I do know that he works at a school (or multiple, possibly), but he makes sure people know he is not a teacher. He carries a binder with him to work and sometimes he runs through numbers at home after work. I have decided to offer a reward for the first person to guess what exactly it is that he does. Once I figure it out, I will pay out. Anyway, he is an extremely warm man who still insists that
my little brothers do everything for me.
My Apa’s (mom’s) name is Satagul. She is a Kyrgyz language teacher and, essentially, a vice principal at one of the schools in Kochkor. She also is one of the primary cooperative members at Altyn Kol. I’m pretty sure that is why I am living with them, since my work had to come up with somewhere for me to live before they got a volunteer. She is a very sweet lady and she even made me slippers when I told her I couldn’t find any big enough for me here (size 12 doesn’t really translate well over here). She is a great cook and every time I pay her my monthly rent, she gives me a speech about how I need to ask for help more often. Oh, and she is quite wee.
Brothers in Kyrgyzstan are separated into two very distinct groups. The aforementioned “bi-kay”s, which are older brothers, and “Ee-nee”s, which are the younger brothers. I have one of the prior and three of the latter. I do not know my older brother. I have yet to meet him as of press time and to be honest cannot remember his name. My oldest “Ee-nee” is Nurdin. He is about 6 months my junior and though it feels weird, I am to refer to him as an inferior in the language (Note: see entry on language). Nurdin just recently bought a car and is currently a taxi driver from Kochkor to Bishkek and lives with us.
Azamat, 18, is currently studying foreign languages and computers at university in Bishkek. To be honest, his English is pretty much on par with mine and I’m pretty sure he has read more books in my mother tongue. He is a very sharp kid, even though he likes 50 Cent (the rapper, for anybody who doesn’t know him). Aziz, 13, is the youngest brother and the one I hang out with the most. He is in 7th form (grade) and doesn’t mind repeating things 20 times before I understand it. He’s a pretty normal kid who likes to tinker with his bike and doesn’t always like doing his chores. He does whatever I need done though, because I am his “bi-kay.” I try not to abuse the power, but sometimes I just don’t want to help clean up!
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