Make New Friends...

Make new friends…

I met Bota’s mom when I was indulging my love of fruit. I had a good experience with a fruit vendor in Issyk—I loved buying fruit from her because she knew me and was always impressed by my progress in Russian—and so I sought this relationship in my new city as well. She immediately knew I was American (Who knows how?), and asked for my phone number for her daughter. I gave it, because I am desperate and like to be asked for my number.

Bota called, and we had our first date on Saturday. She came over for tea and we sat in my kitchen talking for 2 hours. She brought me a bag of fruit—she knows the way to my heart! We talked about our families, traveling, movies and music. Eventually we moved on to history, religion and art. This is more than I have talked to some of my American friends about! And, it was ALL in Russian. She speaks Russian, Kazakh and a little Turkish. She is Kazakh, and her family is Muslim. I really enjoyed her company, and I think we are going to an art museum soon. She called me again last night to chat. I am so happy to feel like I have started to make a community here—I was so worried about living in the city!

My other local 22-year old girl friend is Masha, my coworker. (she says hello!) She took me hat shopping on Sunday, and I got a fuzzy hat that’s too big for my head but very warm. I can’t afford fur, yet. Maybe next Christmas. Masha and I had our first disagreement yesterday. The whole day was full of people speaking in Russian without noticing or slowing down for me. It was so frustrating! I just stood there, and Masha said “later” when I asked them to slow down or explain things. After the people left (including the police and media), I found out we are presenting to classrooms on Thursday, and I will be talking about domestic violence in the US, Minnesota, and the Twin Cities. Then I accidently closed her computer game, and she was angry. The rest of the afternoon had some raised voices as both of us were frustrated (me with Russian, her with me). Eventually I was in tears. That’s when we bonded over tea and cake. She hugged me and told me not to cry—we “made awe” as my family likes to say.