Here is a link to the Kazakhstan English Language Theater website.

http://kelt.biz/site/

Maxim is watching and he likes to see his name on screen. He can even type it!

Maxim

Money!!

Two things about last night's practice: We found out that KIMEP is going to fund us with what seems like a huge amount of money. A lot of it is going to go for lighting. I haven't said this to Nathan yet, but if the lights are like they were for the last play, he shouldn't bother. The shadows were stretching all across the stage and no one was ever lit up very much.

Thing2: This is going to be good! Potter and I were yelling at each other, our lines were coming fast and furious. I was doing my best not to throw spit on him. Although I think George may have wanted to spit on Potter. Uncle Billy certainly does. As soon as everyone gets their lines down, we are going to be great.

Birthday Frisbee

My dad sent me a review of the movie by Sasha Cohen called Borat. The author talks about Kazakhs playing polo with a headless goat. I've never seen it here, but I was lucky enough to see this great sport when I went to Tajikistan last spring. Tajikistan was battling with Afganistan. The attached video was taken by me just before I was trampled--not quite. Obviously, there is no attached video to this. Can anyone tell me how to do attach it to blogs, or where I can post it for free?

I’ve been dipping into a feeling lately that has made my life easier and has allowed me to relax and not worry so much. I’ve been filled with gratitude and peace that is beyond explanation. More on that later.

This fall, I came back with my knee feeling pretty good and with a great eagerness to get Ultimate Frisbee going in Almaty again. At our school, we have a luxurious football field with thick, green grass. This field is the finest patch of playing ground in the whole county outside of the national stadium where the Kazakh national team plays. The national team even practices on our field. In the US Embassy newsletter, I have an announcement each week inviting all interested people to come out on Sundays at 4:00. The number of people who come to play is normally tiny. Three times, I have been the single person that came.

Several times this week, Maura asked me, “What kind of a special thing do you want to do on your birthday?”

My answer was always, “Well, there’s no special thing I want to do except play Frisbee. But now my knee is hurting so I don’t even know if I’ll be able to play, even if we have enough people.” Ultimate Frisbee, that is. So today started and Oskar was still taking penicillin for some kind of infection and Maxim was coughing all the time. That left it up to me to stay home with the boys while Maura went to church because it was her week to teach Sunday school. Maxim, Oskar and I had a pretty good time raking leaves into piles and jumping in them. As Oskar was sleeping, I sent a couple emails, Maxim and I read a tractor book, and I wanted to take a nap. Then the phone started ringing—two times it rang five seconds after I had lain down. One of Maura’s relatives called to wish me a happy birthday and one guy called to say that he would be at Frisbee (unlike his words last night). Then two teachers called to talk to the Intensive English Coordinator, who was driving our car downtown, taking our kittens to get shots in their eyes and buying some food.

Finally, Maura returned with the kittens that had been in the car all day. I had chained up the dog that lives at our house because she has eaten all or most of six kittens in the last six months. When I took the cats to the car earlier in the morning, the dog had lunged for them, with hate in her bark and hunger in her eyes, and smacked her teeth on the carrying case.

Soon after Maura came home, we went to school, and there we saw a teacher and child walking down the sidewalk. I rolled down the window, and she said, “We came to play Frisbee! Oh, I’m kidding, we must be going.”

I said to Maura, “She really knows how to twist that knife, doesn’t she?” Then I considered her small knowledge of my character and said, “She just doesn’t understand how that hurts, does she?”

Maura said, “I’ll tell her that she can’t kid around with James and Ultimate Frisbee.” I asked her if she had called Mike or the Roberts to see if they were coming. She said she hadn’t called anyone. There had been a glimmer of hope in my head that she might have called a couple people to tell them it was my birthday and that they could come out and help me celebrate.

We parked and Oskar, Maxim and I went out to the field while Maura went in to get the other Frisbees. Maxim brought his soccer ball along and wanted to play with that a bit. I didn’t mind because although he does quite well, little hands have trouble throwing a Frisbee. My friend, Daniyar and his cousin, Kazbek, walked up from the road. I thought, “Well this is good, at least we will have enough for a game of Box (a game that is somewhat like Ultimate Frisbee but requires fewer people).” Maura had said earlier in the day that she would be a good wife and dutifully play Box with me if there are only a few people there.

Then I looked over at the school and there was about 10 people out front milling around. I said to Daniyar, “There are a bunch of people who could be over here playing; but of course, they are going to say they have too much work to do in school.” Then those people started to come to the field. “Oh, ho! Maybe they ARE coming over to play,” I thought. Then people started to appear from everywhere. After 10 minutes, there were at least 25 people standing around, including one parent of a student at school and another man who we knew in Baku. In addition there were at least six kids for Maxim to play with and two babies younger than Oskar. Things were festive.

Maura did it again! She was able to find the exact birthday present that would make my day. I had even said to her early this morning that Sundays have not been very interesting this year. We started with about 12 people on each team. We soon figured out that the small field I had marked off was woefully inadequate for that number of people so we expanded the field to the maximum size available. We played for about an hour without keeping score. (One teacher-participant is from Iowa, has a sister in Panora, and is investigating property through the same realtor we used to buy our house this summer.) At one point, I heard someone say after a score, “That one went from Texas, to Canada, to Seattle, to Washington, and finally to Kazakhstan.” Because it was getting dark, we decided we ought to finish the game by playing a game to 5. The seedier underbelly of these strictly fair, absolutely honest teachers who are completely unconcerned about winning came up to swallow the good will that had been achieved. (It wasn’t really that bad, I just wanted to finish my sentence by filling your mind with a vivid mental picture.) The weather? I wore a t-shirt and sweat pants; three hours later it was raining.

After the game, we all went into the teachers’ lounge and ate food that people had brought, and root beer floats that Maura had purchased because that is my favorite dessert. Maura had asked me in the morning what I would like as a birthday dinner that evening. I thought quickly and said, “Banana pancakes.” At the ‘pot luck’, I asked Maura if she made banana pancakes. She hadn’t, but someone said, “Well those are banana pancakes.”

“Really?!? Did Maura tell you?”

“No. I made them because you made banana pancakes in Kyrgyzstan last week.”

So…my day was wonderful and filled with good times. I am so thankful to all those people who came to show their support and love.

It’s difficult for me to say this, because I know how unlikely and weird it sounds. The explanation that sets well with me for my good fortune and inner peace is belief in Jesus Christ. I can’t say that I believe all the Christian rhetoric, but from a personal stand point, I’m ready to stand up and tell you that what I've experienced has been extraordinary.

I'm from Iowa

This is George Bailey. I think I have to calm down and try not to yell as much as I did last night. One person said the talking loud was turning into YELLING and the edges were getting scratchy. Yes, sir, I will have to merely talk loudly. As a teacher, I can surely do that, but I will have to be careful, because if I do it too much, I will loose what I have left of my voice.

Well, this blog is going to cover more than just the play. If our leader!!, the big N, wants me to add only play stuff, I'll do something different.

The other night, N told us that people had been jibber jabbering in the audience during rehearsal two nights in a row. I have to disagree. On Tuesday, they were definitely making noise, but on Wednesday, it was great. I'm sure N won't mind be disagreeing in public, he's often told me that he has a lot of experience putting up with actors' fickle narcissisms.

I think the play is going wonderfully. I love this. It's like a dream come true. Sometimes I have to stop and think that I am actually playing a big part like this. I've always thought acting would be the easiest, most fun job on earth. What do actors have to do except recite lines they are given? What is creative about that? Not only that but movie actors get to do it as many times as they need to get it right. That means they don't even have to strictly memorize their lines.

I think we should never fail to do a no-stop run through of every scene that we rehearse each night. If that means doing a couple less scenes so we can still finish by 8:30, then so be it. I think it gives everybody a clearer mindset of what the finished product will feel like. This would also eliminate people getting up in the middle of the rehearsal, and everyone would be able to say good-bye to everyone else. As it is, if people come late and leave early, some cast members may have no contact beyond on stage in a scene.

So this is blogging. It reminds me of a trip. Eight years ago, I was in a four-car caravan going from Baku, Azerbaijan to Tblisi, Georgia. All the cars had grovey walkie-talkies--our machine could broadcast but not receive. I sung to the other cars, told them jokes, it was hilarious. For me. The coolest thing was telling them all of a joke except the punchline. I wanted to see how many people cared. Well...not many. It's probably the mark of an inexperinced blogger to go on and on about stupid things at the end of a blog--but what am I? I pride myself in not ever claiming to be anything I'm not, and never denying anything I am. I'm from Iowa.