Happy 12th of July!

I missed June. Ooops.

Nevertheless, I shall plod foreward with July.

I am currently in Peace Corps Kazakhstan Headquarters in Almaty. I will be in this city for the next two weeks or so doing a Professional Development Course at an Institute in the city for Directors and Vice-Principals of schools. I will be teaching English with two other volunteers.

The institute has been kind enough to offer us both a free room, as well as free board while we're there, which will save a lot of money, since Almaty is a very expensive city compared to Petro, although the price of fruits and vegetables in the Bazaar is much, much lower. I saw banannas for sale yesterday for 35tg per kilo, where they're 300tg in Petro.

After the Institute I might go to Lake Balhash for another summer camp. I would kind of like to go home so that I can cook again, but I have signed up for the camp already, and it's only a week. I can probably also cook there.

I should get back to site by the second week of August, at which point I expect to run some English classes for interested students, and I might participate in a hike from Petro to some place further south that will last three or four days.

At some point later school will start and I'll get a schedule. The PCV's in country tell me that the first month or two of school has no effective schedule and that my classes will be rescheduled at the last minute with no attention to making sure that either the students or the teachers are informed. My school has, in the past, made pretty successful schedule changes, so I am hopeful that the year will not start entirely awash in chaos, but it does remain to be seen.

An Imperialist Anecdote:
Yesterday was the first time I have ever really felt like an imperialist. I was in the Pizza Hut: the only one in the country which is a higher-end restaraunt here, but actually tastes very good, much like Pizza Hut in the US. My waiter was very good. He spoke very good English and was prompt and solicitous, but had an attitude that I can only describe as fawning. It was a very odd experience. Perhaps I was mistaken for one of the rich foregners who come in to eat there for a taste of home and leave American-style tips. I feel this story lacks pizazz. I may rewrite it sometime later to punch it up, but for now I'm drawing a blank.