KYRGYZSTAN ~ Thank God for Kyrgyzstan (Dec 1 2011)

World's #2 Most Beautiful Country.  Ancient Hunting Festival.  
Nomadic Traditions.  Peaceful Election 2011.  
Back to Turkmenistan.

Muslim cemetery near Chaek

Though no one call spell or pronounce it[1], thank god I got to see Kyrgyzstan.  Otherwise I might have thought all former Soviet republics were as repressive and closed as Turkmenistan.  If one could combine the energy, openness and eager potential of Kyrgyzstan with the wealth and natural resources of Turkmenistan, one would have quite the up and coming country.

KYRGYZSTAN ~ Moving Herds down Highways (Sept 23 2011)

A great and glorious day. Nomadic lifestyles. 
Alatoo Mountains.

Autumn on Otmok Pass

Some days abroad are great and glorious. Grab and write, else they  fade, blurring with ordinary days, lonely days, frustrating days, days of diarrhea and bedbugs, or worst of all, days when one remembers home too vividly.   So let me capture yesterday. 

KYRGYZSTAN ~ Lost on the Silk Road (Sept 11, 2011)

Temporary Duty in Kyrgyz Republic. Gorgeous country. Two elections. Eclectic cafes & ethnic riots.

Alatoo Mt. switchbacks, Kygyz Republic

Suddenly, I’m no longer in Turkmenistan.  As surprising as it was to find myself in that country where I’d never had intention or curiosity to go, it’s even more surprising to find myself further off-track.

Career out of control

When I decided to do a late-in-life career change, from international education to international development, I pictured myself teaching small children and young mothers in a refugee camp in eastern Africa.  Now, five years later, I find myself in Kyrgyzstan, a poor, landlocked country with an amazing energy to become all things modern and prosperous.  The range of snow-capped Tien Shen Mountains overlooks the bustling capital Bishkek, and glaciers, high altitude lakes, and some of the world’s best treks beckon to us who are living down in the valleys.

TURKMENISTAN ~ Springtime & Tribes (May 15 2011)

 The Life of Peace Corps Volunteers. Tribal Identities.  

No HIV here.

Ashgabat’s spring has been rainy, cool, and beautiful. Wild poppies are blooming in the mountains.

I’m at the 5 ½ month mark already; “smooth” so far.  I’m swimming in the outdoor pool at the US Embassy residence compound on some mornings and evenings, and last month rode my bike to and from work. I was the only (fill in the blank: woman / older woman / commuter) on a bike – in the early mornings I smiled and waved at the skirted ladies who hand-sweep the streets 24 hours a day. 

TURKMENISTAN ~ Learning to Weave (Feb 27 2011)

First trips outside Ashgabat. Soviet nostalgia. Turkmen-dili.

Madeline at National Carpet Museum, Ashgabat

Been here 2 months.  The recurring metaphor is carpet weaving.  I’m at the stage now where no one would buy the thing:  just a mass of warp and a pattern barely emerging.

I’m in the land whose most famous product, not counting natural gas, oil reserves, cotton and wheat exports, is carpets.  I’ve moved from a country that had Basotho hats on its flag (symbolizing mountains) to one with carpet patterns on its flag

TURKMENISTAN ~ First 24 Hours in Ashgabat (Dec 29, 2010)

 
First Impressions.  Breathtaking New Years lights.  

Luxury apartment replaces African mud hut.

Turkmenistan's desert dunes

The Path to Ashgabat from Washington DC:  Pilots followed the path to Ashgabat from Washington, DC which includes flying over the Atlantic Ocean, a six hour wai in Frankfurt (Germany), then up over the Czech Republic, Vienna (Austria), Bratislava (Slovakia), Budapest (Hungary), Bucharest (Romania), the Black Sea, Georgia, Armenia, and a landing in Baku (Azerbaijan), on the edge of the Caspian Sea.  There the male crowd of gas and oil workers, including an Alaskan native I’d chatted with, seven Norwegians in hand-knit sweaters, and several Malaysians left the plane.  Only one person boarded in Baku, and suddenly the 20 passengers remaining in the 300-person aircraft revealed they were on first-name basis.  Mostly diplomatic types, peppered with a Scottish oil exec here and a Dutch development worker there, they chatted cheerily in English and Russian about their holidays, golf scores, and where people had been posted previously, a question I initiated.   Their lists of residences lived and languages studied made my world travels sound like a kid’s first trip to the zoo.

In the black night at 2 am, two hours late for my waiting Peace Corps colleagues-to-be, I stepped down the stairs into the cold air.  Rows and rows of bright streetlights stretched in the direction of the city, reminding me of the refinery town in Texas where I lived as a kid.  Electricity went out in the VIP lounge

LESOTHO ~ Africa's Mountain Kingdom ~ 21 letters (2006-2009)

Twenty - one "Letters from Lesotho," Africa's Mountain Kingdom,

are posted on this Global Maddy blog:

www.globalmaddy.moederogall

The letters and handful of photos cover 3 years when Madeline was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Mt. Moorosi, Quthing Province,
in Lesotho, southern Africa.

In Mt. Moorosi village, Quthing Province

1st graders in Masia Primary School on paint cans without desks