The first sign of winter

Today there was a chill in the air and a bit of rain came blowing through campus in the morning.  Later in the day, I looked up into the Blue Mountains and noticed something that put a tiny shiver down my spine.  What I had noticed was the first snow of the year.

It's extremely difficult to view in this picture, but if you look carefully at the small U-shaped dip in the right-center of the shot, you can detect a slight skiff of snow at the tippity-top of the mountain.

Nature has sent me its first warning that winter is on the horizon. The gentle Kyrgyz autumn will not be with us indefinitely. I wonder if the teeth of the Kyrgyz mountain winter will be as sharp and biting as I suspect they might be. A person can't fight the seasons as they are inevitable and possess a strength that humans still can't quite overcome, no matter our inventions and technologies.  It's simply best to welcome and embrace the changing faces of the Earth and accept the gifts that each face offers.  All it seems I can do is make sure my tea box is fully stocked and work in the days ahead to procure a warm and furry hat and gloves. Then I might be ready to face another new season in a place I really don't yet know.

Lessons learned on a marshrutka

I once lived in a town in Arkansas with a population of about 10,000 residents. In that town, if you didn't have a car, you were out of luck. Without a car, you couldn't go anywhere unless you walked or rode a bicycle. It was very difficult for the Central American students I worked with, because they didn't have cars and they were at the mercy of the kindness of others if they wanted to go somewhere outside of a 200 meter radius from campus. And not only wasn't there transportation for trips around our town, but even worse, if you wanted to go to Little Rock or Crystal Bridges Museum or Eureka Springs, you were also out of luck as there was no mass transit of any kind, not even a Greyhound bus at your disposal. Nothing.

Strangely enough, Kyrgyzstan, a country with nowhere near the wealth of the United States, possesses something rather wonderful.  It is called the Marshrutka. It is what one calls the small bus or van that is part of the system of mass transport in this country.  The marshrutka system is really quite amazing.  For 8 soms, which is about 11 cents, I can flag down a marshrutka in front of our campus and be transported the 3 kilometers to downtown Naryn.  And about about every 20 minutes, during the weekdays, a marshrutka drives by campus, available to pick you up.  And, once on board, just tell the driver, and he'll drop you off anywhere along the route, no bus stop required.

A marshrutka driving on the road past our campus

Not only can you get a marshrutka for local trips, there are also marshrutkas that go to Bishkek on a daily basis.  I have been told that the 300 kilometer trip costs less than five dollars.  I have been way out in the boonies and have even seen marshrutkas provide transportation services for people high up in the mountains who would not otherwise have a ride.

Yes, marshrutkas can sometimes get crowded and many of them are old and somewhat dilapidated, and they often sputter down the road a bit more slowly than one would like. But, for about 11 cents, almost every single person in Kyrgyzstan has access to decent transportation, something that can't be said for many of the people in small-town Arkansas (and lots of other parts of the U.S., for that matter). Once upon a time, the vast majority of Americans had access to train and bus service and other forms of mass transit, but that is now lost in a country that caters to the wealthy and ignores those without personal resources. Sometimes it takes riding down the road in a marshrutka, ten-thousand miles from my home, to come to the sad realization of one of the things my country has lost along the way.

On the marshrutka to downtown Naryn

Campus views

The students have completed their first week of classes and we are slowly beginning to settle into a campus routine; and I begin to experience the views that make up my daily life. The two-dimensional blueprints, which used to form the only internal map of campus from which I could construct vague perceptions, have now taken shape as the tangible location where I live and work. What was once an imaginary landscape--a place of dreams and hopes and wishes--has become a real part of my personal geography and its distinctive form, shape, and personality are now concrete elements of my existence. 

A view from my office window

A view of my living room

A view into my office

A view of the faculty terrace with the Red Mountains beyond

A view of the central courtyard

A view of students playing soccer in the inflatable sports bubble

Random Remnants of the Soviet Era: Lenin

Most Soviet colonies that declared independence a quarter century ago worked fervently to shed the symbolism and iconography of the Soviet era. Kyrgyzstan, however, wasn't quite as aggressive in that regard, especially as it relates to Vladimir Lenin. Not only do I live on Lenin Street, but the town of Naryn has retained its Lenin statue, as has virtually every major town and city in the country. While many of the statues of Lenin have been moved out of the main squares of towns and villages into less-conspicuous locations, these remnants of a past era still maintain watch in the Kyrgyz Republic.

Lenin in Osh

Lenin in Naryn

Lenin in Bishkek

When the people who call themselves patriots are truly un-American

Donald Trump and Mike Pence have spent the last few days heaping praise upon Russian leader Vladimir Putin and holding him up as a model world leader compared to President Barack Obama.

(See the story in the September 8 edition of huffingtonpost.com "Mike Pence, like Donald Trump, Thinks Putin is a Stronger Leader than Obama" for more details.)

It is certainly within an American's rights to disagree with our current President's policies. But any person in the United States who supports an authoritarian leader who suppresses democracy like Putin over the leader of our country who has faithfully upheld his Constitutional responsibilities like Obama is not a patriot and is completely ignorant of the principles of our country.  And any person who supports Trump is similarly guilty of supporting un-American sentiment. I am astonished by and ashamed of the ignorance and foolishness sweeping over the United States.  What is wrong with America when the leader of a major political party and his minions are more sympathetic toward foreign despots than their own leader and the people like me whom he represents?

(P.S.  Those of you living in Clarksville, please tell me: are your friends and colleagues, especially those who are church-goers, supporting Trump?  What are their reasons?  Is anyone in the community courageous enough to challenge their support of Trump? Somehow, I doubt it.)

Witnessing the birth of a new university

I have degrees from three universities.  The newest of the three was founded in 1901, the year my Grandfather Krauss was born.  However, the institutions I graduated from are mere adolescents compared to my co-worker's alma mater--his is the third oldest university in the U.S. formed way back in 1701. Most of us are far removed from the origins of our colleges and universities and we often have only a vague sense of why they came into being. With few rare exceptions, the beginnings of most institutions of higher education in America are nothing more than dusty memories recorded in history books. In the year 2016, almost no physical universities are being built anywhere in the world. Considering all of this, I realize how incredibly rare it is during these times, or really at any time, to be present at the birth of a university. That's why today was such an amazing day, because I was able to witness the birth of the University of Central Asia. Even better is the fact that I have had the privilege of playing a very tiny part in this birthing process.

I wonder what this newborn child will become. It is born with an expectation that it will grow into a special place that makes a tremendous impact on the region and especially on the young women and men who will study here. With children, one never can tell what might happen. The future holds great promise for this child, but as with any life the unforeseen can take many shapes and forms, both good and ill.

Yesterday, students filled a time capsule with messages describing their hopes for the future and the future of UCA. It is my hope that this place built with the daring and noble goal of providing world-class education to the remote mountain regions of Central Asia is able to grow into adulthood, one day becoming mature, strong, and proving faithful to its mission.

I witnessed a birth today. Let this wonderful new life begin.

The first class of UCA students from five nations

The main building, with residence hall on the right