A week in the life of Ember

So what does my life look like? I get up and go to the office like a normal person, mostly!

On Mondays the Kids Connection department prepares for the week ahead and I have a few hours to catch up on my Kazakh studies and download emails.
On Tuesday we spend all day at Saramoldeava orphanage. We spend an hour each with the little kids group, an girls group, and a boys group. We take fun stuff to do and keep up on their lives and needs.
On Wednesday I have a Kazakh lesson and return to the office for meetings and a variety of tasks from remodeling to brochure creation to photography projects.
On Thursday we spend all day at Ulan orphanage. We consistently visit the smallest children and then spend the rest of the day with whichever children are not in classes.
On Friday we have an American meeting to plan delegations review intern applications, brainstorm, and check in with one another. I then try to catch up with emails.
Saturdays in Kazakhstan are also work days! The office is closed, but I have another Kazakh lesson in the morning. My afternoons switch between team fellowship to time with friends to, every now and again, rest!
Sundays are my day to sleep in…once in awhile! J Two Sundays of the month we celebrate birthdays with the kids by either travel to Savva orphanage in the village or doing pizza and a movie at the “American house.”

Most nights I’m home by 6:30 and have time with my host family. We have dinner together and my host Mom helps me with my Kazkah and we talk about our days. Then they watch TV in Russian or Kazakh while I work on my Kazakh, read a book, write letters to the kids at the orphanages, or prep emails. It’s a FULL life, but so GOOD!

Expanding the work

The past two weeks we have extended our time at the orphanage Ulan. This orphanage primarily Kazakh children who are Kazakh speaking (good for my language learning)! In the past we have had just an hour or so with the smallest children. As a team however, we felt burdened to get to know these kids more. Due to past corruption they are the least well off, least structured, and least cared for children among all those we work with.

Thankfully we have permission to come and go at will on Thursdays and expand our work to include all the children. We bring a variety of outside or inside activities and spread out to get to know the kids. I can’t hardly remember names, but hope to soon move to hearing stories, hearts, dreams, and needs. We want to bless these children not just with some fun activity but the chance to express themselves and know that someone cares for them and sees them. Here’s pictures of our recent visits.

The Almaty Whirl (no, it's not a line dance)

Well, Beth and I had a great trip to Almaty. The low lights were hot, sweaty, airless train rides, horrid, horrid traffic with smog, and jaw dropping high prices. The highlights were a coffee bar, brocolli and fresh veggies for lunch at a Sbarro, talks with a wise friend who was in town (from Virginia) and then 24 hours of uninterrupted REST! We stayed at Teen Challenge which is an outreach to drug addicts. They have several guest rooms with small kitchens and no TV. Beth and I found ourselves worn down from weeks of work, travel, and emotional conversations and finally were in a place to rest. So we did! For me the sweetest part was the small patch of grass with the leafy tree just outside our door. We took our books out and shed our shoes to soak in a gloriously sunny morning!

A little trip

I'm off to Almaty Sunday night and will get back to Taraz on Tuesday sometime. :) Beth needs to visit the Russian embassy and I have a friend from the states in town and am looking forward to a long chat! I am not looking forward to traveling around the huge city of Almaty, but am so thankful to have a few days away to process everything!

Musings and mullings

This week has given me a lot to think about. I’ve been challenged by my coworkers to think about my national friends here, about the way I interact with them, the purpose of my time here and my role within Interlink. To be honest, it’s been a bit overwhelming since these conversations have come at the same time I’ve had a flood of questions myself.

For three months I’ve tried my best to adapt, soak in, blend in, and simply live life here in KZ as a part of the Interlink team. This past week (and weeks to come) I’m taking a step back and looking at how things are done, how I’ve done things and take account. I want to make sure I’m headed in the right direction. I am also considering whether this is the agency, country, and work that I want to commit myself to for a longer period of time. As you can imagine, this is no easy process!

The past few days the Kazakhstan skies have matched my inner musings. With fierce winds blustering I am continually drawn back to a quote from the third chapter of John “The wind blows where it wishes. You hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from or where it is going, so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” I hear the wind, I see the wind, and long to know it’s Source, it’s destination, and where I belong amidst it all.

It’s not about the cigarettes

This is what we kept telling the boys at Savva orphanage this weekend. There were three boys we caught smoking and were crushed to see it, but thankful to have the opportunity to speak to them about this. We know that smoking and drinking are virtually coming of age activities for many of these orphan boys. In fact, one boy explained that he had his first cigarette at age five and as much as he would like to quit, doesn’t see how it’s possible. We very much desire to be a break in the chain warning the boys that cigarettes link to alcohol link to drugs. It’s so vital now, before they leave the orphanage because the region they are to move to after leaving sits amidst poppy fields and is known for drugs.

The truth is, we haven’t the power to “save” them or change them. We can only speak truth with the love that we have for them and pray that the words bear fruit with time. We make sure that they know that it’s not the one cigarette that we care about but their futures. We offer what help we can, accountability and prayer, advice on how to quit, words of hope and encouragement. Ultimately though we know the daily battle against temptation, peer pressure, and hopelessness is more often than not too much for these young teenagers. So we accept no promises, expect no miracles, hold them to their impossible promises and pray for miracles. Its heart breaking and worth every moment.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way..one girl's story

She knew she wasn’t alone in the world. She had brother in another city and a sister at the orphanage behind her. And somewhere she too had a mother. Everyone has a mother. For years she told herself her mother loved her, she hadn’t meant to get addicted, never wanted to leave her children, but after 17 years, she was having a more and more difficult time believing herself. Half the time she didn’t even understand her own actions. One minute she was high as a kite showing the world they couldn’t push her down anymore. The next she couldn’t seem to get up the energy to care about anything. What hope did she have? Living with strangers, girls who had the same defenses she did, out to protect themselves, scrounge what things, what love, what hope they could, clinging to and yet destroying one another in the process. What hope is there? Isn’t this world just a burden to bear? Isn’t everyone supposed to take what little pleasure there was where it could be found? But the highs were followed by the emptiness, sometimes regret. It was broken. The world was broken. She was broken. Deep inside her the truth screamed to be heard, “It’s not supposed to be like this.” But who would hear her if she screamed? Who would care and who could fix it?

Kaida Ember?

Kazakh lessons are going zhaksa (good). I’ve learned lots of kitchen and food words from home like schkinty kask (tiny spoon for tea) or bishparmack (five fingers which is the name of a traditional KZ dish that is supposed to be eaten with your five fingers). From the children I’ve learned otramiz (sit down) and atom koom (name?). I have a great teacher who is strict, but excellent. I did get overwhelmed with words at one point, so I slowed down. Sadly my teacher came down with pneumonia, but the staff here at the office picked up teaching where she left off. Now I’m back in class, and finally, I can ask questions! For so long I could only talk about myself, but I’m branching out now which makes for better conversation. I just need more practice! With the majority of the staff being English speaking, it’s too easy to rely on what I do know. Thankfully my host family only knows a tiny bit of English, though they are learning more each day as I learn Kazakh. Some weeks I am eager to learn and practice, but other weeks I just want a break! Hopefully it will even out and I’ll be able to make a truly consistent effort at using what I know.

My girls...talking about my girls!

Four of "my girls" from my first trip in 2005 now live in Taraz. We've met a few times for talks and birthdays and random stuff. But this past week, I had them over for dinner at my apartment. We ate and laughed and talked about their hopes for the future. Afterwards we reminisced and looked at pictures and then had a good old fashioned pillow fight. It was so great! I’m going to try to do this as often as time and my means allow. I've offered to teach them to cook and take them to the square and maybe have a slumber party! :)

Roosters, cars, ice cream & Americans

Seven Americans recently visited Kazakhstan from Richmond, Virginia. They came to meet the children they sponsored, to see how Interlink works, and to have some discussions with local doctors about medical supplies. My job was to help wherever and whenever needed. One of those happy occasions was a trip to the park with children from Saramoldeava orphanage and then a trip with the older children to the bowling alley. Here are some pictures. More info about their trip and a video can be seen on the Interlink blog.

The beauty Kazakhstan

The beauty of this country is enough to take your breath away. Although the cities are expanding and more and more western goods are showing up in increasingly walmartesk shops, much of Kazakhstan is still untouched. The mountains are majestic and the villages picturesque. Driving through it’s almost as if time has stood still. Old women sit on benches outside their homes exchanging the latest gossip about their children, grandchildren, and neighbors. Men sit alone or together smoking in solidarity of a long life lived. Children toddle among them happy and dirty. And always, someone is working whether they are hauling water, prodding along an unwilling calf, or working on some piece of ancient machinery. Time moves slowly marked by the seasons, births, weddings, and deaths. And there’s a beauty to it, a simple life to be envied by those whose life is so dominated by things, places, and schedules. But of course it’s always easier looking in. While we in the west see the hard working laborious life as a relief from the burden of prosperity, I’m sure that electricity, running water, and health care are no small lacks in these villages. The challenge I think for us all is to seek contentment no matter what the circumstances.

The decay of Kazakhstan

Everywhere in KZ there are signs of decay. There are foundations to buildings that have sat for years. Houses half done looking more like ruins than new construction. Old Soviet factories speckle the land around each city, huge, silent, and rusting, worn down by heavy snows and fierce winds of dust. The Soviets built “…Krushchev blocks that eventually filled the Soviet Union, and that were exactly the same wherever they were erected in Kabul, in Kaliningrad, or Kiev: five story buildings with two-, three-, and four-room apartments….[with] customary Soviet decay.” (Asne Seierstad). In KZ they have brightened the winter gray and summer brown landscape by covering the cement with Easter candy colored paint. But still the buildings chip & crack. Newer buildings go up constantly as the economy of KZ rises, but no sooner are they up, sometimes even before they are finished, the buildings blend into the background of decay. It’s in the building materials apparently, too little cement in the cement, too many walls full of sand or cheap rock, always the cheapest contractor, always trying to make a little profit by giving the cheaper product. Cost reigns over quality here in so many areas.

Little lamb, little lamb, who made thee?

For Easter we attended a local service in Russian and then headed up into the mountains for a picnic. We ate, sang, and explored the streams, trees, and animal friends in the foothills of the beautiful KZ mountains. My guitar came along for a bit of singing and the combination of the glorious green grass, the singing brooks, real honest to goodness lettuce on our sandwiches, and the knowledge the joy of an Easter celebration made it a day to count our blessings. On the way home we ran into a friend, a shepherd the team often meets on their trips. He had a special surprise for us…a little lamb not more than two hours old.

The meaning of it all filled my heart with such joy. The miracle of new life, the beauty of the sacrificial Lamb, and the tender beauty of creation warmed my heart and reminded me of one of my favorite poems from William Blake:

Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,

By the stream and o'er the mead;

Gave thee clothing of delight,

Softest clothing, woolly, bright;

Gave thee such a tender voice,

Making all the vales rejoice?

Little Lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee?

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee.

He is called by thy name,

For He calls Himself a Lamb.

He is meek, and He is mild;

He became a little child.

I a child, and thou a lamb,

We are called by His name.

Little Lamb, God bless thee!

Little Lamb, God bless thee!