Come Sit Next to Me

My family lived far enough away from the school that it was not convenient to walk over to the school every time some of the other volunteers would get together. The walk was a little more than forty-five minutes. On a typical training day I would wake up to my wind-up alarm clock, take a shower, shave, eat something with my host family and walk over to the school. Breakfast was served at about 5:30 AM. The morning came extra early with the grandson Ilembek always crying and the countless dogs in the neighborhood always barking at something. Plus, there were always the mosquitoes in my room. Sometimes I would meet my co-trainees Eddie and Sherri along the way and we would walk the rest of the way to school together. We would talk along the way about our unusual homestay experiences and what we were learning in our training classes. Going to school I would zigzag through a residential area, often with a small dog at my heels, before passing the Russian Orthodox Church and crossing a stream via a narrow walking bridge. Shortly after that I would cross railroad tracks and find myself behind some downtown buildings. A turn to the left would take me to the bazaar, but the road leading toward School Number One was a short walk to the right. Along the way I would always pass one home that had what appeared to be a billiards table in the yard. I'd wait for a light to change at the main street and hit the final stretch to the school. Whether my watch was visible or not, someone would always try to stop me to ask for the time. I soon learned how to say that I do not have a watch in Kyrgyz. Sometimes it was apparent that someone was trying to sucker you into something, but most of the time it just seemed to be a curse for ever having owned a watch.