Gulsara Kaipova - My First Host Mother In Kyrgyzstan

Gulsara-eje had a laugh like a witch, and when I first met her and found out she spoke English I thought I had it made. We had been three days in Kyrgyzstan and knew how to say “hello”, “how are you” and “good” and this woman, who almost magically knew my home language while no one elses’ family had a clue, seemed like a god-send even though I don’t believe in god. I later found out that this magical ability of hers meant that I didn’t feel as compelled to learn Kyrgyz as much as everyone else, but it allowed us to get to know each other beyond hand gestures and the feeble conversations of a beginning student.

She would laugh and mock me for the stupid things I did, look at me as if I were a moron if I didn’t know how to do something that was basic to the Kyrgyz way of life, and try to marry me off at any somewhat opportune chance she got, but she also gave me genuine love and sympathy when I was in need of it. She was a paradox in this way. The other volunteers in my village were somewhat scared of her because of this long, perturbing look she’d give you if you didn’t do what she wanted, and because she was hyper-critical of everyone, especially her own children. But still, she made room for me in her family, and she spared me much of the excessive criticism that she would lash at the world and her kids on occasion.

By the end of the three months we spent training to be “real” Peace Corps volunteers, she became my friend and mother. They sent another new volunteer to live with her the next year to train, but Gulsara made her life miserable through being herself, and by comparing the new volunteer to me. The few times I went back to visit, the love that she would radiate to me when I would first walk in the door was palpable, and she would spend the first 15 minutes repeating “oh, janum. maladyetz”, which means “oh, my soul (my dear), good job” before starting in on talking about the people that had displeased her, how I needed to find a husband, and how fat I was when I first got into country versus how skinny I was now.

I even brought my real mother to meet her when she came and visited, and the two got along well with each other each other. Before we left, my mother thanked her for taking me in and loving me like a daughter because that’s exactly what she did, even though it was in her own, not always agreeable, way. I think that’s one of the kindest things that a person can do--love another person who has no real connection to them genuinely despite all differences. I know she probably talked smack about me when I wasn’t there, but she also gave me real love when I was so far away from all that I knew and cared about, and for that, all shortcomings can be forgiven.