I'll be honest, I did not have particularly high hopes for today.
While most people probably look forward to their birthday with eager
anticipation, the best I can muster is a grudging acceptance that I'm another
year older and less able to hide the fact that I need to become a responsible
member of society. But even that level of feigned cheer is sometimes hard to
muster when I'm at home surrounded by family and presents. Imagine my concern
about the prospects for a cheerful celebration of my birth when I'm ten
thousand miles away from home and nary a present in sight!*
However, today started off quite well! First I received a skype
call from my parents and then from Aunt Arlene, which basically included the
whole Bossio clan! After filling them in on what life in Central Asia was like
and getting myself a little behind the time--no harm done--(Punctuality is not
a virtue here, but don't worry Dad, I don't intend to go 'that' native). As I
walked into to work that day, Victor and Murat were waiting for me, but both
wore great big smiles and as I came into the room they lit a candle (come to
think of it, it was more of a firework!) which was on a cake and sang happy
birthday. Then my coworkers gave me a small wrapped box as a present, which I
happily discovered contained a pipe, a set of shot glasses and a flask
decorated with a horse (in true Kazakh style).
Already my expectations for an dismal and depressing birthday had
proven unfounded and so I felt pretty content that my birthday was already
shaping up to be a good day. However, I soon learned that this was just
the beginning of probably the most interesting birthday surprise.
Normally the three of us lads have lunch together, but that day Victor
and Murat were both busy doing translations and by about 1:30, I had enough of
being patient and courteous and decided I needed to eat!
I headed down to the faculty cafeteria to find is empty except for
the three cafeteria ladies and few pickings left for lunch. I
settled on some cutlet with potatoes and didn't get my usual tea cake
because the guys and I were going to have that cake later. However, as I
sat down, one of the lunch ladies came by and gave me a piece of cake
anyway--explaining, "For happy birthday." Shocked, I mumbled a "Cpaciba."
How had they known it was my birthday? Had Victor and Murat told
them? I didn't know, but I sure felt good about how my birthday was
turning out. After finishing my cake, Murat finally came to get himself
lunch--poor Victor was still stuck working, so I asked Murat, whether they had
known it was my birthday or why they had given me the cake?
Murat asked the ladies--and it turned out, that the youngest of
the workers had just turned 20 that day, so they gave me some cake. When
I explained that I was also celebrating my birthday that day--they
congratulated me: "С Днем Рождения!" and handed me a chocolate bar.
I decided that I owed them some kindness, so I went back to my dorm room
(in my fancy dress shoes, which was a bad idea--no traction at all!) and
returned with one of the bookmarks that I had brought from Kansas and the
Liberty Memorial. "С Днем Рождения!" I said, handing the
bookmark to the birthday girl (I had spent a good portion of the walk back
practicing the phrase so I wouldn't screw it up too badly, and it appeared as
though it had been fairly well received. The lunch ladies put on some
music from the Caucuses and invited Murat and I to stay and
dance, but since we had already eaten, we decided that
work beckoned and we politely excused ourselves.
About an hour later (maybe 3:30 PM) I decided that I could use so
more tea, so I went back to get some hot water from our mess hall. When I
returned, I found the door locked, but hearing the music still playing, I
decided to knock and try my chances at getting some hot water. The door immediately opened and I was invited
inside, with one of the older ladies grabbing my tea glass from my hand shot a
question at me, which I caught a few words—essentially asking if I wanted sugar
or milk with my tea (Neither in my case, but both are popular in Kazakhstan,
where tea is probably the most popular drink, period).
While I waited for my tea the other ladies again entreated me with
an offer to dance, but this time, it was no longer a choice, as I was pulled
out into the middle of the mess hall floor and forced to dance to some rousing
Caucasus music. The other lunch lady
joined us (as the birthday girl had left when I entered on some errand) until
they realized that I was a rubbish dancer and they let me enjoy my tea, while
asking me a few questions about myself and when our language barrier became too
much of a problem, they told me to go find Murat. Unfortunately Murat couldn’t join us, so I
went back to tell them.
When I returned, the youngest lunch lady had also arrived from her
errand. I soon found out what it was—as
the older ladies shot me another question, “Brandy?” I thought to myself for a moment and
rationalized that, a little bit couldn’t hurt and it was my birthday, so I held
up a finger and said “Nimnoga” or “a little.”
I also put my finger up to my lips and said, “Shsssh, ponimayu?” or “Quiet, understand?” Because I figure, drinking on the job was
probably not the best way to endear myself to the higher ups at EKSU.
So we went back into the small kitchen room and the ladies brought
out a few glasses, a bottle of vodka (I guess they meant brandy as in “generic
alcohol”), and a bottle of Lemonade—which is more like a soft drink than what
you are thinking of. The poured the four
of us a glass of the vodka and then they poured another cup with lemonade to
chase it with. One of the older ladies
(I should say probably mid-40s, though I can’t be sure. None of them were “ancient” but definitely
middle aged and above) got out a bowl of salat (cucumber and tomatoes in
mayonnaise) and we toasted to a happy birthday and drank.
Immediately they filled up the glasses again and gave another
toast, to my parents’ health (miming physical exercise and well-being!) and we
drank again—hey, it’d be rude to refuse to drink on a toast to my family! After this, we all took a chaser of the
lemonade (not really that good, in my mind, but it isn’t vodka, so that’s
good!). Then one of the lunch ladies
shoved the bowl of salat to me, so I could continue to chase the vodka
away. Personally, I would have been
happy enough with just the salat instead of the lemonade.
We continued to try to communicate, with a student being dragged
into the kitchen to try and translate some of the more complicated phrases.
They wanted to know if I was married or if I had any children, mildly offended,
I reported that I was neither married nor a father, adding that I was only
twenty-four. Which seemed a surprise to
them (later on one of my students in the class that evening would tell me they
had assumed I was thirty-one), I’m chalking
this up to the mature figure that I cut and not to my looks.
After this revelation, one of the older ladies asked if I had a
girlfriend—much to the bemusement of the other older lady—the youngest one was generally
silent throughout the whole afternoon.
When I answered no—the question was then “Pochimu?” or ‘Why?’ Preferring
a simple answer instead of the more long winded and truthful answer of that I’m
a huge geek and generally not considered a ‘ladies man’ or a catch back home, I
simply said that I had a gf, but she had gotten tired of waiting for me, so we
had broken up. The lady cursed the woman
who had abandoned me and they we drank a toast to my future wife and family.
We continued our discussions and finished off the small bottle
between the five of us (the three lunch ladies, myself, and the student
translator). I had learned a lot,
including that one of the ladies had been in the strategic rocket forces and
that beauty standards in Kazakhstan are messed up, since I’m considered
handsome. Side note: according to
Victor, women outnumber men here, so that combined with the fact that they
apparently have low standards for male beauty should be enough reason to
encourage my single male friends (if there are any left by the time they read
this—seriously is everyone getting married or having kids?) to visit me.
Eventually though, by around 4:30, they decided it was time to go—I
personally wasn’t feeling too bad, but the lunch ladies definitely didn’t seem
used to drinking vodka, as they had already begun to stagger and found it
difficult to put things away. So I left
and went back to preparing my lessons—I had class at 6:30, so I had a little bit of time to sober up,
because I sure as heck wasn’t going to be terribly productive for the rest of
the afternoon.
I have to say, the experience of this birthday will live on
forever in my mind, just because of how strange and wonderful it was. I don’t think I ever would have expected this
much of a celebration this far from home, when I had only a few close friends that
I could speak to. But, even if the rest
of my twenty-fourth year is a bust, at least I had a great birthday party.
*I want to be clear, my birthday was celebrated before I left and
I was given a few Christmas and Birthday Presents before I left (including the
Ipad--thank you Haixiao!) as well as quite a bit of money to help me survive
over here. The gifts were very generous. But I think there's still something
about being able to open an actual present and have some cake on your birthday
that would be missed out here.