I am not a farmer...

9:00 3 October 2008

Over the past few days, I have found out some things about myself. First and foremost is that I would make a truly awful farmer. I found this out because the past three days and two nights I have been living by myself as my host mother and sister went to the funeral for my host mother’s sister’s husband- theoretically my host uncle but I never met him. I mentioned his death in a recent entry and my host mother’s sister was with us for a while- Obviously, I was quiet but respectful around her and mindful of her obvious intense grief. There was one time when we were eating dinner together and the electricity was out- seeing her weathered and sad face seemingly always on the brink of tears lit only by the gentle glow of the candle was a haunting and beautiful site. It would have made a gorgeous if depressing photograph, but my better judgment and sensitivity made sure I didn’t endeavor to attempt that.

Anyhow, I have gotten distracted from my original topic- the aggregate effect of this situation was that I was home alone and asked to tend the various animals my family owns- four cows, a flock of geese, a dozen chickens, a dog, and a cat. Needless to say, I have no previous cow tending experience other than occasionally accompanying my host brother from my training village out to the field. They explained basically what I had to do and I foolishly told my family that I thought I would be able to take of everything alright though- this is what led to several errors on my part. These errors were borne from both the language gap between my host family and me and my complete ineptitude when it comes to tending livestock.

My first mistake came on the holiday of Eid al Orzo (the Kyrgyz Eid Ramadan) which is the most important Muslim holiday in Kyrgyzstan. The tradition calls for families to guest with seven other families over the three day holiday. While I was alone at home most of the day, one of my neighbors invited me into their home to guest. During this first guesting, I received a phone call asking me to enclose the cows. Here is where the language barrier came in, I went home and closed the bulls we have in a covered area and assumed everything was okay. I had misunderstood which cows my host sister was talking about- the two cows that were out in the fields- I rarely see them and had literally forgotten we had them. Later that night I got home after several more hours of guesting and checked on the cows and I was surprised when I noticed the two cows in a different enclosure. Thinking that I had overlooked their presence earlier (I only noticed them through one window because it was lit) I thought that they had been enclosed all day and assumed they must be hungry- therefore I gave them some of the hay we have stocked for winter when the cows can’t pasture. As you may have guessed, those cows had bee abandoned on the field and had been brought home by some neighbors that had seen them and wondered what they were doing there- thank goodness they did this.

The next morning after realizing my mistake I was determined to make it right by doing well with the cows that day. With the help of my neighbors, I readied them for pasture by securing their lines and opening the necessary exits for their transit. It started alright with them going where they are supposed to along the road but quickly degenerated as they wanted to start eating immediately and rushed onto someone else’s field and started munching. I had been to our field once to work and thought that it wasn’t that far so instead of driving them back onto the road I elected to make a beeline through the fields. This started out okay, but it was difficult keeping the cows on track and not eating other people’s grass. As I continued driving the cows for about a kilometer (in the process getting yelled at by a Kyrgyz cowboy) I realized with increasing dread that I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to be going. The fields looked a lot more alike than I had remembered and I had rolled my ankle chasing the cows about- at first it hurt but then subsided and I continued on. As I realized I didn’t know at all where I was, I decided to get a hold of the cows to prevent them from eating more and then call my host family to try and get better instructions.

This proved significantly more difficult that I anticipated. I had wrapped the ropes that would be used to secure them on the correct field around their horns, and getting a hand on their horns was really quite hard- cows can be pretty fast when you are trying to catch them. Eventually, after I sprinted around for about 15 minutes and was sweaty and winded, I finally managed to catch both of them and keep them from eating more of not their grass. I called my family and they said they would send a neighbor to find me. After waiting what seemed like about an hour, but probably was no longer than twenty minutes, I figured my neighbor couldn’t find me, luckily around this time a friendlier Kyrgyz cowboy approached and asked what I was doing and was able to point me in the right direction. After this helpful guidance, I was able to find the correct field, much to the bemusement of the other Kyrgyz families that had been waiting for me there. They thankfully said that they would watch the cows for me and I could go home, so I made the journey back home (it was surprisingly further than I had remembered- about 2 km) and realized after an hour of resting that my ankle was hurt a lot worse than I thought. I was invited to a guesting and went but left early because it hurt so much (Incidentally this was the first time I have gotten “uyah”ed- a Kyrgyz shaming gesture where they draw a line down their left cheek with their finger. It wasn’t a big deal because it was by an ancient Kyrgyz woman that doesn’t hear well and didn’t understand that I was leaving for a legitimate medical reason- everyone else there understood). My ankle got to the point that it hurt so bad that I couldn’t put any weight on it and was literally jumping around my house on one foot. Thankfully, an ibuprofen, an ace-bandage, and resting and elevating made it so I could gingerly limp around. Later that day it was time to go fetch my cows and a preteen glanced at me and bemusedly said he would do it himself- I am sure he thinks I am probably the biggest joke ever (I got laughed a lot at that day) and it’s pretty true.

Anyhow, the cows were just the most entertaining sign of my ineptitude when it comes to livestock but I’ve already written too much about that. Other than my ankle (which is much better now, I can get around without problem) I am doing quite well and am definitely glad to have my family back.