When I mentioned the removal of volunteers to my Russian colleague today, she looked sad. Our university is one of the most prestigious in Kazakhstan, and admits only kids with high English test scores. We admit over 95% urban kids,
I’m often working nights at this point, and I take dinner in the cafeteria. Sitting down one evening with a pear, tea, and a pastry, I was joined by a young woman named Yulya. I learned that she is at
The other day, Aiza, an older friend, told me that her son just arrived from Almaty. Oh, how’s your son? I ask. Well, he wants to move to Almaty, she said, clicking her tongue a bit, and shaking her head.
It’s Sunday morning soon before church in September. Lana, a Russian friend, is just setting down with a cup of tea, a new tin of sweetened condensed milk, and fresh crispy toast on a small platter. She pulls her bibles