From Richard, dated September first: First day of classes and guess what? I did not teach, was not supposed to. Paul, temporary roommate, showed up to his economics class, but his students did not! Joan also just had ceremonies today with some cool gifts: 10 tea bowls, a cool little rug/table mat and more flowers than she could carry. I teach two 1st year classes tomorrow and two more on Thursday, so I can refine it by then. I may not have a 3rd yearclass which means I can take both 2nd year ones. They only meet once a week for 80 minutes - why do they bother? That's not enough time! Teaching should be okay as I can teach what I want and have access to computer, printer, Xerox, and even fax! Nice low tech expectations I had. I also am looking forward to teaching the English teachers, helping them improve their English and try new teaching methods. There's also a good chance I'll be doing some traveling in the oblast (state/region), teaching seminars for local English teachers. There's also a plan underway to open an English Resource Center in Aralsk, out on that screwed up lake. A $10,000 grant from Soros is in the works and we will get to go out there to set it up. There's also talk of a teacher's conference in the south at Chimkent, woo hoo! I think you'd like it here Dad. Especially with the packrat/fixityourself mentality. Here, when you see a piece of wire on the road, you pick it up because it's difficult to find fixing supplies: nails, hammer (I used a beer bottle once),wire, tools, etc...... There are no lumber yards/hardware stores here -- I can't build shelves in a shelfless flat. I keep wandering the bazaar looking for random things. The bazaar has a section where men spread out sheets/blankets and lay out their wares of used/new (how do you tell?) parts in the sun. Random motors, gaskets, bundles of nails, strange looking electrical bits, pipes, chess boards, everything... There are also car guys who have piles of car-related stuff. Sort of a cross of garage sale, Goodwill, flea market, and sometimes parts store. Broken windows aren't replaced; they're filled in with spare pieces of glass. I've had to use duct tape to keep one porch window together. Coverless manholes lurk at night to catch the unwary walker. Random pits and trenches appear. However, the construction going on around here and the related vehicles (damn -- the soviets like big stuff!) is the only I've seen in Kazakstan. Take care and write soon. Love, Rich