This is quite a long postcard but I hope that, (especially given my background), you’ll bear with me.  I have been asked some questions about the educational system here in Kyrgyzstan … so, here are some notes and some thoughts on the subject:

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The first thing to say is that “Education is a highly prized commodity in the Kyrgyz Republic.”

It is said that until 1917 the Kyrgyz were largely illiterate. The family played the central role in education and socialization of the young – and it was in the family circle the young generation would absorb the culture, crafts, poetry and traditions of their forefathers.

The schools that did exist were primarily religious schools – called “mekteb” – where, under the tutelage of a mullah, the boys, (girls didn’t go to school), would learn to recite portions of the Koran and other religious texts. In 1909 there were 14 such schools in Pishpek (Bishkek), 11 in the Prezhervalsk (Karakol) district of Issyk Kul and 169 in the southern districts where the influence of religion was much stronger.

When Kyrgyzstan became absorbed into the Russian empire at the end of the nineteenth century, a number of secular schools appeared – so called “native schools”. Although they were called “native” schools, this term referred simply to the local population and so they brought together pupils from many different cultures represented in the local population: Kyrgyz, Dungans, Tartars, and Uzbeks, as well as other nationalities. They brought to their pupils a knowledge of both the Russian language and of Russian culture, and by 1914 were found throughout the territory now known as Kyrgyzstan, (in Alexandrovka, At Bashi, Ketmen Tebe, Naryn, Osh, Pishpek (Bishkek), Pokrovka, Prezhervalsk (Karakol), Sazonovka, Sokuluk, Talas, Tokmak and Tynaevka).  Some of the schools were boarding schools.

One thing, however, didn’t change– on the whole, they were still, mainly, just for boys. Two Russian “native” schools had been established in 1914 for the education of girls – one in Tokmak and the other in Prezhervalsk – with a total roll of just 42 girls.

The Soviet period, following the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917 was one of continual progress in terms of educational provision and the growth in the number of all forms of educational establishment, for example, continued right up to the end of the Soviet Union.

Also, during the Soviet period the position with regard to girls’ improved considerably.  One of the early measures adopted by Lenin after the Revolution in 1917 was a decree which established a “Commission on Enlightenment in the Turkestan Republic”. The commission set about extending the school system – and the only condition imposed on joining classes was “the will to study”.  The number of schools grew dramatically – and girls were able to receive an education. Indeed, in some areas the performance of women outstripped that of their male counterparts. In fact, at one point, in 1994-5, 60% of the students in institutes of higher education were female.  The gender difference is nowadays more marked, possibly because the boys are often withdrawn to assist with farm work or in the bazaars, which means that girls tend to have a better attendance record.

Indeed, although attendance at schools is supposed to compulsory, both school enrollment and attendance have been falling.  At the time of the collapse of the Soviet Union it was said that enrollment in the first form was 100%, but five years later it had apparently fallen to 97%, and only 79% of the entire school age population.  What’s more, there is evidence to suggest that as they get older, there is a tendency for some children to drop out of school and start some, (unofficial), work in order to alleviate economic hardship within the family.   The increasing truancy rate has led to stories appearing in the local press of “child labour”.  It has been suggestion that another cause of the rise in truancy is due to the lack of suitable clothing, such as footwear.

Amongst the major results of the investment made by the Soviet Union in education was the high degree of literacy – variously reported as 97% or 100%, and a highly qualified population – 84% of the population having received a higher or “secondary” education.

The tendency during this period was for technical, vocational education. Students specialized in a particular area even whilst still at school – although there was (and still is) a standard programme of “general education” which forms the core of all courses of study. Although it was thought important for the development of socialism, Lenin’s dictum that it is important “to know a little about a lot” is still influential.  As a result, a first year student of Tourism could well find themselves attending classes in Thermodynamics even though it bears little, (if any), relevance to their main studies.

Curriculum development is often quite a bureaucratic process.  The Ministry of Labour has a series of job definitions laying down requirements for each profession.  The Ministry of Education then transfers these into course descriptors which have to be followed by individual syllabi and institutions.  In order to introduce any new course which is not covered by these documents has to be self-financing and there can be problems over recognition of the qualifications.  Indeed, not all qualifications are internationally recognized and this can cause difficulties for students transferring from one institution to another – especially if their family has moved abroad.  There has been a recent development for some institutions to offer courses leading to international qualifications and several institutions have established cooperation agreements with institutions abroad to help facilitate both the delivery and the recognition of courses.

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Most of the instruction is in schools conducted in Kyrgyz – the state language, with about two thirds of the secondary schools conducting lessons in it.  About a fifth of the schools are “bilingual” in that both Kyrgyz and Russian are used to deliver the curriculum and another tenth are known as Russian schools because all the teaching is conducted in that language.  A small number of schools, especially in the rural regions of Southern Kyrgyzstan use either Uzbek or Tajik, reflecting the local community, in the classroom.  Since independence, there has been a resurgence in the Kyrgyz language and greater emphasis placed on it and other topics of “Kyrgyz nationalism”, (history, culture – art, music and literature, etc.)

In higher education, however, Russian is the predominant language with two thirds of studying through this medium.  This is partly due to the availability of textbooks, Kyrgyz language textbooks being far fewer.  As a result this may change as and when more Kyrgyz language textbooks become more available.  Indeed, it is said that the growing influence of “Kyrgyz nationalism” in education was one of the driving forces behind the establishment of the Slavonic University in 1993 to cater for the ethnic Slavic population in the country.

Some institutions also work in different languages – the Turkish schools and Manas University, for example also use Turkish, the American University and International School use English as an instructional language.

The question of language is important because most of the instruction relies on the technique of “lecturing”.  This is partly a hangover from the Soviet tradition, partly due to the lack of availability of textbooks and partly due to the lack of “educational technology” which is considered commonplace in the West.

The lack of textbooks in Kyrgyz may not that surprising in that it can be expensive to produce them, (for a limited market), requires specialist authors who are not only suitably qualified experts in their field, but also talented at being able to convey the material to a diverse audience.  The state budget for the purchase of textbooks is also limited, hence print runs tend to be small.  Some Kyrgyz language texts are sponsored by donors, but even so, there are precious few of them.  There is a wider choice when it comes to books written in Russian, but once again, budgets tend to restrict the number that can be purchased and made available to classes or in libraries.  Many pupils have to purchase their own textbooks whilst some schools operate a “deposit” system, charging a small fee for the loan of textbooks for the semester, or duration of the class.

There is also a considerable deficiency in terms of the available “educational technology”. Very few schools, for example, have computers, although there are plans to try and introduce more.  Some of the institutes of Higher Education and some specialist schools do have computer labs, but there is still a considerable deficit in the main, state run, sector.  Where computer facilities do exist, it is likely that the equipment is old and dated rather than “state of the art”.  The idea of “a laptop for every student” is a long way from realization.  This might be surprising given the fact that at the start of 2011 it was reported that there were over two million active users of the internet, out of a population of just over five million, many of whom live in remote rural districts.  But, it is not just computers that are lacking.  There is a deficiency in the provision of audio-visual aids, (models, posters, photographs, film and video), as well.

As an aside – this week the news broke that the The State Registration Service of Kyrgyzstan is considering the implementation of the “One Laptop Per Child Project”, (OLPC), in Kyrgyzstan.  Now, issues concerning issues relating to education in schools are beyond the remit of the service, but “informatization” of the country does fall within it.  ”This project is a good chance to contribute to the human development of our country,” the Vice Chairman said.

The OLPC project is run by a U.S. non-profit organization aiming “to create educational opportunities for the world’s poorest children by providing each child with a rugged, low-cost, low-power, connected laptop with content and software designed for collaborative, joyful, self-empowered learning. Its current focus is on the development, construction and deployment of the XO-1 laptop and its successors.   The XO-1, manufactured in Taiwan and previously known as the “$100 Laptop” or “Children’s Machine”, is an inexpensive laptop computer specially designed to be distributed, to children in developing countries around the world, in order to provide them with access to knowledge, and opportunities to “explore, experiment and express themselves”.   It is rugged; has low-power consumption; uses flash memory instead of a hard drive; runs a special, (Fedora-based), operating system and user interface, (called “Sugar”); has provision for mobile, ad-hoc, networking which allows students to collaborate on activities and to share Internet access from one connection; and has also been designed to be lower cost and much longer-lived than typical laptops.

It will be interesting to see the reaction of the teaching force to this proposed initiative – give the considerable investment that will be required compared to their low salaries, (see below).   I hope and trust that the project will include computers for the teachers themselves and suitable training.

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The year 1996 was declared as “The Year of Education”, and consequently much attention was focused on the sector.  Education has been promoted as a major tool in order to help integrate Kyrgyzstan into the world economy and facilitate development and the improvement of living standards for the population.

Recently, however, it has been argued, there has been a tendency for the access to education to decrease. This is partly because there has been a reduction of support from the state – hard pressed for cash, itself – and many schools are in a bad physical condition, not having been renovated for many years. In some cases, the teachers spend their holidays decorating the classrooms and corridors. There is insufficient funding to buy new textbooks, or other basic materials, or to retrain teachers. Many schools are now introducing a system of requesting subscriptions from parents to help the shortfall in funding.

The lack of funding has created a crisis over the question of the shortage of teachers and in particular, teachers’ salaries.  There are many schools without the full complement of teaching staff and most young entrants to the profession do not stay long, because of the low salaries it is claimed.  As a result the teaching is aging – in Bishkek, for example, a significant proportion of the teaching force have already past the official retirement age. (For the record, the majority of teachers are also female.)

Salaries are low.  To make matters worse, many of the social benefits which they enjoyed under the Soviet system have disappeared since Independence and not been replaced with any form of recompense.  As a result, at the end of 2010, teachers throughout the country started protests and even threatened strike action in pursuit of a pay claim.  The figures vary according the source but everyone, including politicians and officials agree that they are too low to attract, reward and retain staff, and that “something must be done”.  The starting salary in the Talas oblast, it was claimed, was just 1500 som a month, (the union’s figures for a new entrant to the profession were even worse – just 1177 som), rising to 1900 som for an “experienced teacher – that’s about USD33, (or EUR23, or GBP17) to USD42, (or EUR29, or GBP27) – not enough to buy a sack of flour, yet alone pay for electricity, gas or other amenities.  The union’s figures suggested that the average teacher’s salary was higher, (4026 soms a month), but there may be reasons for the discrepancy, (for example, it may include Bishkek and some other places where the salary is higher because it is subsidized by the city).  Even so, it was still only USD87, (or EUR62 or GBP57), which is below nominal average wage for the country, (based on actual salaries reported to the tax authorities – which might well be, in itself, an underestimate), of 6744 som and the “minimum subsistence basket” for the country which is 3,827som, or USD83, (or EUR59, or GBP55).   So, according to these figures, it seems that teachers as a whole are paid about 40% less than other workers in the country – and below the minimum subsistence level.  The union asked that teachers be paid at least on a par with the rest of the workforce – basically, for a 40% pay raise. Some of the rank and file, however, were not so modest in their claims which seem to range from demands for 10,000 to 15,000 som for the basic salary and the return of a number of other benefits which have been eroded over the years.

There is general agreement that teachers are particularly poorly paid given their qualifications and experience – and also their position and role in society.  Indeed the authorities didn’t dispute the merits of the case.  They did point out, however, that it is an issue that affects all government employees and not just teachers and that the main problem was that there just wasn’t the money in the budget, (which was already in deficit, and would be in even worse condition if the interim government hadn’t received budget support from grants from international donors following the April revolution and the other events that occurred during the summer).  Proposals were discussed which would abandon the current system of uniform pay scales in order to create a new one with various components – a basic salary plus different allowances, including one which is performance related.  This, of course raises additional, crucial questions, such as: conversion from one scale or system to another can create anomalies, so how can it be ensured that no-one will be worse off?; what is the quid pro quo?, (what will be the requirements demanded in return for “performance related” component? – improvements in the PISA ratings for Kyrgyzstan? – a more compact workforce, redundancies?), and, of course, if there is going to be an increase in salaries for individual teachers that will require additional funds, so where is the money to come from?

If at the start of the nineteenth century the majority of education was provided by the religious schools, (madrassas), then it should be noted that there a tendency is a return to the past.  For a while, most religious teaching took place with students leaving the country and studying in institutions abroad, in Saudia Arabia and Turkey for example.  There are now, however, a number of religious schools being established.  Some religious groups, for example, have established Sunday Schools and the Russian Orthodox Church in Bishkek has started a small school.  Several mosques also operate small schools, where the curriculum is, apparently, heavily dependent on learning the Koran.

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The educational system: All Educational institutions in Kyrgyzstan have to be licensed.

There are three basic levels of schooling:

• Pre-school: in special infant schools (which take children from 1.5 to 3 years old) or kindergartens (which take children from 3 to seven years old). These can be run by the state, or be private. The provision for pre-school education has decreased since Independence.  The number of schools, kindergartens etc. now number about only a quarter of those at the time of independence.  Many were closed and either “sold” or converted to offices for use by some government body – for example as a tax office or a police station.  In December 2010, there was considerable controversy caused when the Bishkek municipal authorities sought to recover a Kindergarten which had been leased, rent free, for use as an orphanage, in order they said to reinstate it as a much needed kindergarten.
• Higher Education: Once they reach 18 years of age, a child can elect to continue their further education within the university system.

• School: This usually starts at the age of 6 – the First Form – and can continue up to 17 years of age – the Eleventh Form. It is divided into three stages:
  • Primary Education – in forms 1-4, that is until 10 years old, designed to develop basic skills and prepare the pupil for the next stage of their education.
  • Secondary (or Basic Secondary) Education – in forms 5-9, that is until 15 years old.
  • High School (or Complete Secondary) Education - in forms 10 and 11, that is until 17 years old. This can take place in a number of different types of institution, (an “upper secondary school, a specialized secondary school or a technical/vocational school), and is designed to create a foundation for further study.

In addition there are a number of other organizations established to meet specific needs – such as specialist Music Schools and schools that cater for pupils specially gifted in, say, Mathematics or languages.

Since Independence, a large number of private schools have been established.  All of them operate on a fee paying basis, although many have outside sources of funding as well – for example there is a network of Turkish funded establishments.  They are classified as gymnasiums, lyceums, “innovation schools” (targeting “gifted children” or just “private schools”.

The school timetable: Usually the school year begins on 1^st September – even if it happens to fall at the weekend. The first day of the year usually has the children dressed in their best clothes and they bring flowers to the classroom. In Soviet times September 1^st was known as “Day of Knowledge” – to mark the start of the educational year, and also as “Day of Peace”. The lessons on this day were all dedicated to the theme of “Peace” and the tradition has continued although now, it is also known as the Day of the Kyrgyz State. There are proposals to move the start of the school year a couple of weeks later so that families can exploit the relatively mild weather and take a late holiday – or help with the harvest.

Teacher’s Day is marked on the first Sunday of October – one of a series of professional “holidays” designated to commemorate particular groups of workers.

“Last Bell” – May 25^th is known as “Posledniye zvonok” – or “Last Bell”. It is the last day of classes in the school year for those in their final year. All that remains are the summer examinations. As elsewhere in the world – the day is usually marked with “high jinks” by those affected.  That’s not the end of the year, however, as examinations will take place in the subsequent weeks, and lower classes may continue until June 22nd, when Attestats, (the formal record of results – graduation transcripts), are issued.  These “attestats” are not the  formal certificates, or diplomas, which are usually issued after the summer holidays.

Many schools operate a “shift” system with two separate groups of students attending classes either in the morning or the afternoon session.

Grading Systems: In Kyrgyzstan, coursework and examinations are usually marked on a scale of 1-5.  5 is equal to “Excellent”, 4 to “Good”, 3 is “Satisfactory”, and 2 is “Unsatisfactory”. To receive a “2” is considered a distinct shame … 1 is rarely ever given – and appears to be reserved as a particular severe comment or punishment.

Although there are written examinations, most are oral.  Students may have been given a list of questions beforehand and prepare answers.  During the examination they may draw the question they will be asked by lots – then supplementary questions may be put to them by the examiners.

If they receive an unsatisfactory mark grade in either coursework or the examination, then they are usually given a chance to retake the particular assignment.

Marks for coursework are entered into an official record book, known as a Zachotka, as well as in the teacher’s official markbook.  Students completing their final year may take their zachotka and show it to prospective employers.  Unfortunately this can lead to the practice of “selling” grades, at any level of the system.  It seems to be common practice in Kyrgyzstan, and apparently throughout the republics of the former Soviet Union, for teachers to accept payment for inflate a student’s grades.  This tendency is often attributed to the low wages received by educators.  Also, it not unknown for institutions to change a student’s grades in order to help them find suitable employment that will reflect favourably on the institution.  In recent years there have been a number of highly publicuised cases where teachers have been arrested having been caught “red handed” accepting a bribe.  That’s not to say that all grades are “bought and sold”, just that it is generally accepted that the practice exists.

Another aspect of corruption is seen as a particular problem takes the form of “selling” places on courses for Higher Education, (which is more difficult to control now than it used to be, as each institution has control over their own admissions policy).  There have been several attempts, (in 1993 2001 and 2003), to introduce a national testing system and/or a system of University entrance based on merit, measured by examination results, but with varying degrees of success.

Although a system of objective assessment might considered an essential for an effective educational system, there are drawbacks. For example, Kyrgyz school students have apparently performed badly in the Program for International Student Assessment, (PISA) – a worldwide evaluation of scholastic performance organized by the Organization of Economic Cooperation and Development, (OECD).   The scheme assesses pupils in a variety of fields including Mathematics, Reading, Comprehension and Science.  Kyrgyzstan students came in last place in 2010 – well somebody has to but, all the same, it was the cause of considerable comment and anguish in the media.  The assessment is carried out once every three years and the previous time the ratings were published, (in 2006), Kyrgyzstan also came bottom of the table – in 57th place.  In 2010, however, there were 65 countries in the survey and so the results seem even worse.  The Ministry of Education, however, tried to put a positive spin on the publication of the results saying that even though Kyrgyzstan Students are holding up the rest of the table, there are signs of improvement in some areas and there were an awful lot of countries that did not take part in the Assessment.

On completing a course of study a student receives a Diploma. If their marks are sufficiently good they receive a “Red” diploma – which is the equivalent of a 5, or “Honours”. Others receive a Blue diploma. The diploma usually comes with an attachment which enumerates the units studied – subjects, hours studied and sometimes individual marks.

Officials in the country are also working on adapting courses and qualifications in order to meet the requirements of the Bologna Process for international mutual recognition, but because of the bureaucracy inherited from the Soviet Union, this is likely to take some time to achieve.

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There is also a system for Professional or Vocational training, (designed to provide a route to specialist, professional qualifications), is provided be a number of special institutions:

• Primary Professional Education could be provided in specialist secondary schools or, for example, in training divisions in enterprises.
• Secondary Professional Education is intended to provide students who have completed High School with the necessary professional training for certain jobs and is normally provided in the form of a 4-year course of study at a specialist college, polytechnic or specialist school.

One problem facing these institutions is that they often serve a variety of roles, for example as orphanages or supporting children from disadvantaged homes.  It is not unusual to find very young children in the same institution, perhaps studying the same subjects, as school leavers or adult learners.

Vocational training is also provided by employers, either “in-house” for their own employees, or by joining together in an Association to provide short, courses which concentrate, for example, on specific skills.  One problem facing these courses is obtaining recognition for the certificates issued as the courses may not meet the requirements set by either the Ministry of Labour or the Ministry of Education, which tend to concentrate on long-term professional courses leading to a professional certification.

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Higher Education is provided by Academies, Universities, Institutes and Higher Colleges.  Some offer a traditional 5-year course and others a three stage programme: a short (or incomplete) course, a Bachelor’s degree and an extended Master’s (which entitles them to teach their subject).

Some course, such as in medicine, are longer.  Courses at the Medical Academy typically last six years.

Despite the fact that spending on education is quite low (about 3% of GDP – UNESCO placed Kyrgyzstan 105th, out of 132 countries, for spending on education), over 40% of school-leavers enrolling in Tertiary education and Kyrgyzstan has one of the highest number of graduates per head of population.

One interesting feature of the Higher Education system is that, although some institutions and courses have an attendance requirement built  into the assessment scheme, it is sometimes possible for a student to arrange that they do not always have to attend lectures – but merely attend, (and pass), the examinations. In this way, many students hold down a job, earning a wage, and studying at the same time.

Nearly all courses have an element of “work experience”, or “practica” where students have to find placements as interns in some institution.  It can last anything from a few weeks to three months.  During their practica, they have to keep a diary, write a report and obtain a reference from their placement.

There are also a few examples of “sandwich courses” or sponsorships, where students are sponsored by an employer and they undertake to work with the employer during the vacation periods and for a time after graduation.

There are two methods of funding a placement at University – depending on the institution.  The government provides a number of places at some institutions paid where fees are paid for out of the budget, and there may be a small stipend or grant, (usually less than 1000 som a month).  Other places are “platniye” where students have to pay the fees – which can be expensive.  There have been attempts to provide student loans and forms of sponsorship to help them the expenses.

In addition, of course, they have other “living expenses” to meet.  Most institutions are in Bishkek or the regional centers, and student from outlying districts have to find accommodation.  Some institutions, however, offer special accommodation in Obshiye zhiteli, (dormitories), but these are usually quite basic.

The provision of Higher education has increased dramatically since independence with 34 institutions according to one list and 114 to another.  Some of these institutions have been links with other countries, such as America, (the American University of Central Asia), Turkey, (The Kyrgyz-Turkish Manas University and Russia, (such as The Slavonic University).  The US government through various aid programmes has provided considerable assistance and Peace Corps volunteers have been particularly active in teaching English classes.

The student population has also grown since independence, from 65,000 to more than twice that number.

This is somewhat inflated by the number of foreign students who undertake courses in Kyrgyz universities.  There are, for example, a large number of Indians studying medicine at the Medical Academies in both Bishkek and Osh.  The American University of Central Asia also accept students from other countries and there have, apparently, been particular problems with recognition of their courses from Turkmenistan, which at one point barred their student from attending the university.

The growth in these numbers and the considerable overlap in the provision of courses have led to some concern. The Ministry of Education has, therefore established a list of eight institutions which will form the core Higher Education System. These institutions include: The Kyrgyz State National University; Osh State University; the Kyrgyz Technical University; The Kyrgyz Agrarian Academy; The Arabaeva Pedagogical University and the Batken, Naryn and Talas State Universities. Other institutions include:  the Bishkek Humanities University, two Turkish-Kyrgyz Universities, The American University, The Slavonic University, The Kyrgyz-Uzbek University, , regional universities in Chui, Djalal Abad, and Issyk Kul. The Aga Khan Foundation is also funding the establishment of a University of Central Asia, with campuses in Tajikistan, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, (in Naryn).

One of the criticisms currently levied against the Higher Education system is a lack of responsiveness to student demands – and the needs of society (the “labour market”).  Courses where there is a high student demand, (presumably because they think that the course will enhance their future prospects), tend to be slow to develop and lack teachers and facilities. Other, more traditional courses may, in comparison, be embarrassed by the richness of provision and produce a surplus of certain kinds of specialists.  What’s more, many graduates find it difficult to obtain employment in their chosen field.

Postgraduate Education. There is also a system of postgraduate education. This may include preparing for a Doctorate – or conversion courses. It is also common for students to complete more than one course of Higher Education – say, one course in English and another in Law.

These days, of course, things are a lot easier in terms of getting ideas and information.  The traditional sources of information are still there, but with the internet people can scan many more ideas, download the brochures, pictures and even video of their destination.  Many destinations and tour companies produce special CDs and DVDs as souvenirs which double as promotional materials.  For anyone actually planning a trip there is lots of advice on destinations, activities, procedures and so forth available on specialist websites and through the channels of social media.

As an aside: it is interesting to note how many people already use social media in planning their holidays.  In a survey just before the WTM exhibition in London in November, the results suggested that very few people – less than 10% – consulted  social media before making a major purchase.  Other surveys suggest a far greater proportion of people do so, but the interesting thing in this survey was that the numbers who admitted to using new technology in this way when it came to travel and hospitality far exceeded the numbers who said they used it when buying something like a car, or household goods such as a fridge, freezer, hi-fi system or even a computer.

It seems to me, that anyone who wants to research a holiday has an enormous wealth of material to assist them.  Much more than they ever used to have.  Sometimes it seems as if they don’t even need to leave home to enjoy the experience of exploring a destination.

In fact, a long time ago, I once listened to a radio play about a couple who did exactly that.  Every year planned their holiday meticulously.  Each year they planned to explore some distant, remote and exotic destination.  When the time for their holiday came, they shut up home, drew the curtains, disconnected the phone, locked the doors and settled down to enjoy their vacation.  As it happens, however, they never left home.  They watched videos of their destination; read guide books for descriptions of the sites in the location where they were supposed to be and examples of local folklore and customs; delved into travel books written by people who had already been there; used foreign language phrase books to speak in the local language; listened to records/tapes of the local folk music; employed a sunbed and lotion to create a tan; cooked meals according to the local cuisine and basically relaxed at home.  When the holiday was over, they emerged and regaled their colleagues, friends and relatives with anecdotes about their vicarious experiences, showing off the souvenirs they had purchased by mail order.  If I remember correctly, the play revolved around a setback to their plan as someone arrived to disturb their imaginary holiday …

If that seems a little far fetched now, it certainly seemed so at the time.  As, I said, however, the present day traveler has a huge range of resources available to them and the internet has only helped to facilitate that explosion.

At the risk of adding to a situation of “data overload”, we’ve decided to add yet one more internet resource to the burgeoning mountain of material about Kyrgyzstan.

In addition to the various printed materials that we produce, including brochures, leaflets, flyers, postcards and the Kyrgyzstan Travel Guide that we worked on together with Silk Road Media; our “Infopack CD”; various downloadable pdf files and our pantheon of websites featuring: our companies, (www.celestial.kg), tour operations, (www.tours.kg), and hotels, (www.silkroadlodge.kg and www.cmgh.kg); our “travel encyclopedia” to Kyrgyzstan, (www.celestial.com.kg); the series of cultural websites, (on traditional cuisine, – www.tastes.kg, horses in Kyrgyz culture – www.horses.kg, traditional music – www.sounds.kg – and the yurt – www.yurts.kg, as well as the one in production on Kyrgyz crafts); the portal with links to webpages, (for example blogs written by travelers visiting Kyrgyzstan – www.links.kg) … and others … we are introducing a new website called see.kg, (www.see.kg).

It will feature “spherical panoramas” of sites around Kyrgyzstan.  Our photographer, Victor Rehemyae, has visited a number of sites around the country and taken a series of photographs which can be presented on screen as if you are standing in the place of the camera, and can twist and turn, look up and down, and the scene unfolds on screen as if you were there.  Better than that, you can zoom in to see things in more detail.

To give you an idea, here’s one taken earlier this summer in the main Ala Too Square in Bishkek:

Of course, it’s not perfect … what is?  It is like photograph, a snapshot taken at a single point in time.  It’s not a film, video or clip, so there is no motion.  It doesn’t feed all the senses, only the sight.  There is, for example, no sound and you cannot get a sense of the smells or feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, nor the chill of the winter breeze as snow lies on the ground.

However, why not come and have a look around Kyrgzstan at www.see.kg – we hope it will give an idea of the places and things that you can see in Kyrgyzstan.

At the moment it’s only a test version and there are only about twenty panoramas on the site … but we hope to add to those over the course of time.  If you want to be informed of when we add new panoramas, drop me a line and we will send you updates as and when they are added, or follow me on Twitter, (@Bishkekpostcard), or our links.kg page on Facebook.

Playing Rugby for the school

I wouldn’t say that I have been particularly sporting, however, I have “had a go” at many different games over the years.

Most of it my sporting experience was of the “knock-about” variety rather than organised sport.  The trouble with organised sport was that it required talent, skill, training and commitment.  Now I have a fairly compulsive personality and so commitment is not a great problem once I am interested in a subject, and I appreciate the value of training to bring out talent and develop skills … but these have to be present in the first place, and in my case, I am sorry to say, they are fairly limited.

Anyway, as a result of trying so many sports over the years I know the rules of many games and can turn my hand to almost any of them.  I quite enjoyed playing Squash and Volleyball when I was young, but they were never big sports – so there was not much opportunity to play them.    Perhaps that was why I liked them – nobody watching and so less chance of embarrassing myself in public … and not that much competition.  Another reason, looking back on it, why I liked Squash in particular, was that it was an individual sport … so there was less of a sense of letting other members of the team down by silly mistakes or a lack of talent … on the other hand, my hero, (Alistair Cooke), was a great fan of two “individual” sports – Golf and Tennis … I have never played golf and, as a schoolboy, I played one full match of tennis and lost: six-love, six-love, six-love … I never took up Tennis again.

Without much talent and without practice to develop whatever miniscule skills I might posses, I always joke that I was a natural choice for seventeenth man on the fourth team for the Rugby club.  For the record, the Rugby clubs I belonged to only ever turned out four teams … as a result the the fourth team had very few matches and played very irregularly … and, anyway, a Rugby team only fields fifteen players … so I was always the second reserve … the last choice.

When it came to Rugby, my interest in the sport came about almost by accident – like so much in my life.  A friend of mine talked me into volunteering for the school team when I was 14.  Now, ours was basically a soccer school and everyone played football.  There was plenty of talent, and no chance of my being picked for a team.  The Rugby team was different, however, more like a social club.  It was run a retired Army major and we all called him Major, or Sir.  He taught the Third and Fourth Boys Remove classes … basically boys who were never going to do well in examinations and were thought to be “a bit of a handful”.  His military style, hypnotic glare and barking voice probably stood him in very good stead – but he although he instilled fear in everyone who met him, he also managed to command great respect and affection from those who did get to know him.

From a public school and military background he and the Councillor (a similar character who also taught the Boys Remove) were naturals for coaching the school Cricket team.  The Major, however, ran the school’s three rugby teams on his own.   Even though he conscripted many of the his Remove classes into the teams, (those that didn’t play Soccer), there were never enough players.  I turned up for our first practice on Thursday and was told:  “There’s a match on Saturday, be here at nine o’clock and bring two shillings (10p now) for the bus.”  I thought I was going to watch the game and perhaps learn a little … but there were only eleven of us and I found myself in the three quarter line …wondering what on earth was going on.  We lost.  We lost nearly every match. Still, we had fun doing so.

There is a saying that “Soccer is a game for gentlemen played by hooligans, but Rugby is a game for hooligans played by gentlemen.”  I don’t know if that is a fair reflection, especially in these days when the sport is more professional than it was in my day.  (At that time “professionalism” used to be a dirty word in the game.)  There is another maxim that Rugby has a place for all sorts of players … it doesn’t matter how big or small, tall or short, fat or slim you are … there’s a place for you in the team.  I am quite small and certainly not a typical “prop forward”, but that’s the position I played for most of my school career.  Over the years, I have played in virtually every position, except the crucial positions of scrum-half and fly-half.

One of things I learned to appreciate in those early days was the camaraderie of the team.   At first I wasn’t sure.  The Remove boys were renowned for being troublesome hooligans, and   OK, so they smoked … they swore … they fought … but  they turned out to be regular guys with a sense of humour and loyalty.  They were not half as frightening as I, in my timid way had thought of them beforehand.  In the Monday morning assemblies the results of the school’s soccer matches were reported simply: First Eleven versus Nunnery Wood, 1-0; Second Eleven versus Dyson Perrins, 2-3 … and so on.  The Rugby reports however, were full match reports prepared by the Major and read out by the Deputy Headmistress, complete with names and blow by blow accounts.  On one occasion she suggested that as so few people played the game, the results were usually so disappointing, and time was short, (I think the Major was also absent on that occasion), then she might give the report a miss … but everyone in the room, (or so it seemed), let out a groan and so she relented.  I hate to think what the atmosphere in the staff room would have been like if she hadn’t done so … the Major would not have been amused.  Those reports were really important to some of the characters involved … it was the only form of recognition and worth that some people ever received.

When I was fifteen I decided that I wanted to have my Saturdays to myself, and announced that I was leaving the team.  I still remember the look of betrayal on the Major’s face and the way I was ostracized by my former teammates.  As it happens, it didn’t last long … although I liked having my Saturday’s free I also missed the flow of adrenalin and sense of belonging … and I was soon back in the team.

The boys of the Remove classes left school as soon as compulsory schooling was over … so the school’s first team needed an influx of fresh blood from the sixth form, and every year there was a trawl to see who could be persuaded or drafted into the team.  As a result, we tended to have a young, less talented and less experienced team than many of the local schools, and this was often reflected in our results.  The Major never gave up, however, and neither did we.

The Major was a real character.  Rumour had it than in the second world war his jeep had driven over a landmine and he lost half a finger in the incident.  I don’t know how much truth there was in the rumour, but I well remember how he used to point at you with the stub of the finger and the fear it used to instill in even the hardest of characters.  He was feared by all and sundry and just knowing him and being able to talk to him was a source of kudos.  I was walking through the school one day and called me over: “Claytor, come here.”  I forget what he wanted but all of my friends, (“Cream Puffs” – he called them because they weren’t “man enough” to play Rugby … for that matter neither was I, technically, I was only in the team by default because there weren’t enough volunteers to play), stood by quaking in their boots.  When the Major and I laughed together at something, they almost went into apoplexy.

He and his wife took us to see the local first class team, (Gloucester), play a match against another of the country’s strongest teams, (Leicester).  It was the first time I had seen a mass of people engrossed in what was still, not only to us but generally at that time, very much a minority sport.  It was a really enlightening and invigorating experience and I have always enjoyed attending matches ever since, no matter who is playing.

My brother, having passed the dreaded eleven plus, went to a local selective grammar school where Rugby was the major sport and soccer was definitely looked down upon.  Everything he studied in school seemed to be different from what I studied … for example: he learned German whereas I struggled with French; he learned about the Georgians, Tories and Whigs, but my history seemed to stop with the Tudors and Stuarts; he studied weird subjects like economics which I wasn’t to encounter for years.  In Rugby, however, we had something in common.  He was a much better player than I was, and he taught me one very valuable lesson – one I am certain that the Major would have disapproved of: “Don’t worry too much about running across the field to get from one scrum to another … the action has a habit of coming back towards you, anyway.”

Together we joined the local Rugby club and I started playing for the fourths … never rising any further, but content with my weekly run around.  Training twice a week was actually harder than a game … and, in theory, I could have missed it because I was never in the running for a place in a more senior team, and the fourths were always a “scratch team”.

When I went to college I carried on playing, but suddenly I was in more demand as a referee.  Once again, that happened by accident.  The team arrived at a game and there wasn’t a referee and as someone had to do it … I was asked.  As a natural choice for seventeenth man, my skill on the team weren’t really missed and my refereeing meant that everyone else got a chance to play.  The next I was drafted in again, and so an unofficial career as a referee began.  I didn’t go through any of the training or examinations that are normally necessary for such a role – and it showed … but it was only a “scratch team”, a “knock about game” … and I got away with it … most of the time, at least.

When I started teaching the time came for me to pass on the enthusiasm that the Major had instilled in me.  I began simply watching games because the school fields were close to my home in North London, soon I was being asked to accompany a team to away matches and then I found that I was given my own team to coach.  Me.  Coach.  It seemed, and still seems, as if I was out of my league … but there was a need and I stepped into the role.  I was never a great success.  I couldn’t whip up the drive and enthusiasm as other coaches could, but over the years we had a reasonable record of success.

The school had an old boy’s club and I joined it.  So did some of the sixth form and it was really quite funny to running along carrying the ball and have some seventeen year old yelling at me “Pass it sir, pass it.”  We agreed that on the pitch he could call me Ian, but if he ever tried it in class he would be in trouble.  He was never in trouble.

My playing days ended quite suddenly.  I arrived early for a match one Saturday afternoon, to be greeted by cheers and was told to get in the car.  A little surprised, because I thought that the fourth’s were playing at home, I did what I was told.  We got to the ground and I started to get changed. I looked around and couldn’t see any of my regular teammates, but the penny only dropped when they gave me a shirt … it was a second team shirt.  Someone hadn’t turned up and I had been drafted in to take their place.  Once again I ended up in the three quarter line wondering what on earth was going on – just like in my first game.

This time, however, I was well and truly out of my depth.  This was a serious game with serious opposition.  The weather was beautiful.  The pitch was on field under and embankment carrying trains of the London Underground system.   That’s about all I remember.;  Apparently, at one point in the game, someone in the opposition had the ball and came running at me … I tackled him and, so I am told, it was a “cracking” tackle.  I am not sure if that means that it was a spectacularly good tackle, or they could hear the bones crack.  As it happens, I hadn’t broken any bones – but I did suffer concussion.  They were calling me all sorts of name, Peter, Paul, Mary … and I was answering to all of them as if it was my own.  They took me to hospital where the doctor diagnosed concussion and told me to rest, not to read or watch television.  Ok, no problem.  Monday I felt well and went to work – no problem.

Later my shoulder started to hurt and began to swell.  I went back to hospital and had more x-rays.  The consultant told me that one of my vertebrae had chipped and the chip of bone was “traveling” and it had trapped a nerve.  It would probably give me problems throughout my life – sometimes trapping a nerve and giving me pinching pains, but most of the time, I wouldn’t know a thing about it.  However, “it would be better” if I gave up playing Rugby.  So I did.

I continued coaching a school team, but perhaps without the same enthusiasm and conviction as before (and that was never very good anyway), but I still enjoyed going to and watching matches.  It is one of the things I miss a little, here in Kyrgyzstan.  There is a local Rugby Federation and they organize a festival every summer, but to my regret I have never managed to get there.  The Kazakhs have a fairly good team – not quite up to the standard of the Ukraine, but most of the Ukrainian national team play in Europe.  The police have a number of rugby teams – it is thought to promote fitness and character.  I do get to see the occasional Six Nations match, but these days I am limited mostly to reading reports of matches on the internet.

I once saw an advert on the internet for the National team shirt of the Kyrgyz Republic and I thought, “I must get that”, but the site was based in the US and they wouldn’t accept my credit card as my IP address was in Kyrgyzstan … crazy isn’t it … I’m in Kyrgyzstan but I can’t buy the Kyrgyz National Rugby shirt!

The first time I remember thinking about this was when I was reading a science fiction novel: “The Day of the Triffids” by John Wyndham.  I was at school and there weren’t enough copies of the class reader to go around – so the English teacher gave me a copy of Wyndham’s book to read and told me to write a review about it.  It was probably one of the first Science Fiction books I had ever read … and it had a great effect on me.  (Not as much as his other book, “The Chrysalids” which I sought out and read next … but “Triffids” awoke in me an interest in reading for it’s own sake.)  In the book the survivors of the assault of these monstrous man-eating plants gather on the Isle of White off the Southern Coast of England, where they can purge the land of the carnivorous vegetables with annual culls.  There is a public meeting where a management committee for the new community introduces itself and one is elected, or appointed, as a Medical Officer.  She is a nurse – not highly qualified but the best candidate that the small band can provide, and as the Chairman of the meeting points out: Better a little practical knowledge recently acquired than a mass of theory learned long ago.

At school I never studied chemistry, economics, Victorian history … amongst other things … and all these represent gaps in my knowledge.  Even if there were no changes in the world, they still detract from my understanding of the world in which I live.    As it is, however, the world is constantly changing: new facts are being discovered; new theories are espoused; we meet new situations, there are new techniques to master and new skills to acquire.

The classis example that I always quote concerns nose bleeds – yes, nose bleeds.

When I studied First Aid we were told that the correct way to treat a nose bleed was pinch the bridge of the nose and hold the head back with the nose in the air.  A couple of years later I went for the refresher course and we were told to pinch the bridge of the nose but hold the head forward with the nose pointing down.  The reason for the change in the rule was simple, it was explained to us … if the head is held back and the blood continues to flow then it is possible that patient will swallow it and in some cases may even drown in their own blood.

There is a joke that examination questions in economics are always the same: at every level, and every year … it is just that the answers change depending upon whether it is a school examination, a University examination or whatever … and which year – the answers last year were not the same as this year’s and next year’s will be different once again.  That seems a bit cynical and simplistic but, as is often the case, there seems to be a kernel of truth in it.  Why else would the economist and the television current affairs interviewer say “we are all Keynesians now …”.

Some things change less frequently – you wouldn’t expect, for example, historical facts to change … what happened, happened … but as new facts come to light our understanding of it what happened in history changes … sometimes we learn that what we thought happened, didn’t, or happened differently from the way that we had earlier thought.

Likewise you wouldn’t expect the laws of Mathematics to change … after all: two plus two equals four, always has and probably always will, won’t it? … but they do change.  For many centuries Euclid’s fourth axiom – that parallel lines never meet, was an accepted “fact” … it caused mathematicians and philosophers all sorts of problems because, unlike the other axioms which Euclid enunciated, it did not seem to be self evidently true, although it did seem to work in reality.  One of the results based upon this axiom is that the angles of a triangle add up to 180 degrees.  The trouble is that the angles of a triangle don’t always add up to 180 degrees.

Take, for example the old conundrum: “A man walks one mile south, one mile east, one mile north and, arriving back at his starting point, sees a bear and shoots it … what colour was the bear?”.  At first it looks like nonsense … how is it possible to walk one mile south, another East and another north, and yet arrive back at your starting point?  In fact it is perfectly possible and there are an infinite number of possible points from which he could commence his three mile walk … perhaps, the  most obvious one is the North Pole.  Now, the triangle that he walked included two right angles (when he turned from South to East and from East to North), and there was also an angle between the two paths … the path he left on when he started his journey and the one he used when he arrived back … so the triangle that he walked contained more than 180 degrees.  The reason for this is simple … Euclid’s system works perfectly well – on flat surfaces … but the man was walking on the concave surface of a globe … and here the rules are different.  They are different once again on a concave surface – the angles of a triangle can add up to less than 180 degrees!   So, the veracity of the rules of mathematics depends up on the context.

Think back to when you learned “sums” … maybe you remember learning something like: “five minus three equals two, but three minus five you cannot do”.   I did, and I was surprised a little while later to learn that in some circumstances it was possible that: “three minus five equals minus two”.  Later I learned that it was possible to multiple these “negative numbers” … “a plus times a plus is a plus – a plus times a minus is a minus and a minus times a minus is a plus”.  Ok, so far no big problem … but then we learned about square roots … the square root of 4 is two … actually “plus or minus two” … it could be the result of “plus two times plus two” or “minus two times minus two” … but “you can’t get a square root of a negative number” like minus four.  Imagine my surprise when I came across the “imaginary number” i, (the square root of minus one), and the whole new realm of complex numbers and Argand Diagrams, and ….  Well, I think you probably get the point.  Even in the Queen of the Sciences, Mathematics, just when you thought you “knew” something, you discover that, in fact, you don’t …

It was even worse in the realm of computing, with rapid technological advances … I suppose the first “computing device” I ever used, if we ignore counting beads and abacus of my early schooling, was a slide rule … I really enjoyed how to manipulate and interpret the various scales.  At college we have special training on mechanical calculators based on levers, rotating handles, shifting registers and the Leibnitz stepped wheel.  When I bought my first electronic calculator it had four functions, (yes, four: add, subtract, multiply and divide).  I was furious because a week later a friend of mine went out and bought himself a calculator for half the price … it not only had the basic four functions – but it also had a Memory with “Memory Add”, “Memory Delete” and “Memory Recall” buttons.  He could so much more with his device than I could with mine – at half the price.

As technology advanced computers quickly became more advanced, faster and more powerful.  The first computer to work in the National Westminster Bank apparently had a core memory of just 256 bytes – and the old basic ZX80 which my students purchased and played their games on was four times more powerful than one which used to process account details for one of Britain’s biggest banks.  The one I am sitting at now is many times more powerful than both of them … I had to do a lot of learning when my career took me into computing …

There were other things to learn as well.  Subjects like Economics which I had never studied at school.  I became like a sponge soaking up new information.  I attended a wide variety of courses.  Some of them were practical and/or work-related, others were more general interest and seemed to have no obvious bearing on my professional life … but they all brought me enjoyment, a sense of achievement and of purpose, and examples which I used to cite, and still do, from time to time.

These courses varied not just in topic but also in depth and length, from evening seminars on a single topic, to week long courses run in the school holidays, and even a two year part-time Post Graduate Diploma.  I also enrolled for several distant-learning courses run by the Open University, some related to education, others to Mathematics, Statistics and Computing, and one on the History of Science, which I would highly recommend.  My favourite didn’t carry any credits, it was “Looking at Paintings” from the Open University.  I don’t know if they still offer it … but it was very enlightening in many different respects.  Attending courses is something I miss here … but the internet is a great tool and I feel very fortunate in being able to research almost any topic.

Not everyone shared my interest in courses, or my opinion of their value.  I remember that for one course, I had to interview some colleagues about their experience of In-Service training courses.  Two respondents, let’s call them Peter and Paul, stick in my memory: two very good Maths teachers in their own right.  Peter was what could be termed an Applied Mathematician.  He was very practically minded … for him, a good training course was one which would provide him with materials he could use in the first lesson the following day.  When asked for an example of good training course he had attended, his response was that there wasn’t one … they were all a waste of time – and he only went on courses to “tick the box”.  I asked about courses we had attended together … to which he replied that although they were interesting – they weren’t “useful”.  Paul, on the other hand was what might be termed as a  ”Pure Mathematician” … he had a very philosophical approach.  When asked for examples of “bad” courses he had attended he said there weren’t any.  When I remonstrated that: “Paul, I’ve been on some of the same courses as you … what about the one on …”, he replied that although the sessions themselves were not very good, the course gave the opportunity to meet with colleagues and exchange views and experiences – and that in itself was extremely valuable!   I was reminded of this when reading about NLP (Neuro Linguistic Programming) which claims that there is no such thing as a worthless experience – there is always something to be gained, something to be learned.

I am still learning – although it is harder for me to enroll on courses here.  What I do have, however, is a far greater range of resources thanks to educational channels that I can receive from Satellite TV, e-mail newsletters, podcasts (which can vary considerably in value), to a vast array of information and opinion availble through internet resources such as Wikipedia.

Which brings me to the principle that one my teachers, (who originally told me about the “wise man” who knows what he doesn’t know …), that knowing something isn’t the important thing – it’s knowing how to find out.

By the way … the bear was white.

Teaching isn’t exactly a “blue collar”, working class, profession, and the union that I chose was not militant by any means.   Some people referred to us conservative, or even “right wing”, but that wasn’t really true.  We preferred to call ourselves the moderate Teachers’ union.

In the UK, there are several teaching unions.  The largest was the National Union of Teachers, (NUT), then there always seemed to be a dispute as to which was the second largest – it all depended on how you calculated the figures – nationally and some areas of the country it was the National Association of Schoolmasters and Union of Women Teachers, (what a mouthful, at least the abbreviation, NAS/UWT, was a little better!), but in others it was us, the AMMA.  When I joined it was the Assistant Masters Association, (AMA), later to be called the Assistant Masters and Mistresses Association, (AMMA), and finally the much better  Association of Teachers and Lectures, (ATL).

At college, all the student body were automatically enrolled as members of the NUT, whether we wanted to be members of not.  I suppose they provided us with insurance and had there been any serious problems the Union would offer support … but, to be honest, I don’t remember any other benefit of membership.  A couple of individuals decided to join the NAS, but we didn’t really see any particular reason to join them.  So it was only when I actually started teaching myself that the question of joining a union really arose.

I was approached by the school’s AMA representative first of all.  He seemed to show a real interest in my joining the Union, but there was no pressure or anything.  I took the leaflets he offered, read them and eventually decided to join.

Amongst the various reasons I chose AMA were:

1. The representative showed a genuine interest in wanting me to join – it was taken for granted like it seemed to be with the NUT.  (Sorry to all my former colleagues in the NUT, but that is how it seemed at the time);
2. The policies of the Association seemed reasonable and something I could agree with;
3. The membership was limited to classroom teachers … Head teachers were not allowed to join, they had their own Association.  It seemed to me that there was a conflict of interest when someone who is effectively an employer should be involved in a union which seeks to promote and protect the interests of the rank and file membership.  (This question has been raised recently here in Kyrgyzstan where the Head of one of the Tourism Associations also serves as a Government Advisor.)

I can’t pretend that I wasn’t concerned by the fact that, at that time, it was a male only organization, but there were already moves to change that status and merge with a sister Association of School Mistresses.

I was also a little concerned by the fact that it was one of the smaller organizations but, when I read reports in the educational press, I decided that “size wasn’t everything”, that they had a voice and were able to get it heard by the people in positions of authority.

So, here I am as a new member of a profession and as a member of a professional association.

Now, as I have said elsewhere, I tend to have an obsessive and compulsive personality – once I decide to do something, then I tend to throw my full weight behind the decision and I am not afraid of the work that they may involve.  As a result I found myself getting involved at Branch meetings and branch affairs.  My first job was in, and the branch served, a rural area.  I happened to live in the regional center so I got given a few jobs to do including attending meetings.  I also got sent to the National Conference of the Union as a Branch Delegate.

When I moved to London I transferred my membership to the new local branch.  Here I met some acquaintances from the national conference, and within a year I found myself elected to office in the new branch.  Over the next sixteen years I continued to work within the union variously as a School Representative, Branch Representative, Secretary, Treasurer, Chairman, Conference Delegate, Auditor … and so on.

The experience taught me an awful lot, especially about bureaucracy, handling people and solving problems  – all of which has been particularly useful in later life.

A lot of people think of a Union only in terms of negotiating pay rises and conditions of service, or as a “friend” in times of need offering insurance and legal assistance.  Certainly these are important aspects of a Union’s role – but there is a lot more to it than just that.

In the UK, the salary levels for teachers are usually decided at the national level and I was never involved in these negotiations, although I was involved in surveys and campaigns.  I was, however, very involved in negotiating local conditions of service on many different occasions.  Once we received a proposed policy from the local authority and one of my colleagues asked if I had seen it.  I said I had, but although I hadn’t yet had the chance to study it thoroughly, it seemed to follow national guidelines.   I was taken aback by his sense of outrage … about how disastrous the policy was, and what a deterioration in the existing conditions it represented, that I immediately went and did a detailed analysis.  He was right.  Of over a hundred changes proposed to the existing policy, custom and practice, three represented marginal improvements, and the others were all serious deteriorations for our members.  Even if the document seemed to follow national guidelines, it still seemed to include violations of what could be considered “natural justice”.  Most important of all, however, it was based on general guidelines and when they were applied to schools, the result seemed to be a total mismatch with reality and had the potential for causing real difficulties in the day to day running of schools in the borough.  We were able to put a logical case opposing the document and although we didn’t win the argument on every point, we were able to bring about substantial changes.

Perhaps the hardest part of my various jobs in the union was dealing with member’s problems.  On one occasion, one of our members had a problem and I went to see them and the Head teacher in their school.  It was a particularly difficult situation and the Head asked me if we had a lot of such problems.  The question caught me unwares and I replied: “Not that many, it all depends on how early the member decides to involve us … if it is early enough then we can often help resolve the situation more easily, but sometimes they leave it until someone has said or done something that creates even more problems.”  Indeed, one of the most important lessons I learned was that the Union could not solve every problem, and even where a resolution can be found, often it is not to the satisfaction of everyone concerned.  Sometimes the phrase: “You cannot win!” is the watchword that you have to remember.

It wasn’t all a case of handling disputes, conflict resolution and dealing with problems.  If some of the work, representing members and solving problems, was like “fire fighting”, then another aspect of the work of the union, lobbying and public relations, was akin to “fire prevention”.  I had to lobby councilors and the press on several occasions.  Having a good case backed by solid arguments, although necessary, was only part of the task necessary for such a job.  Unfortunately a lot of decisions are taken not on a basis of logic, but on emotional grounds so it was necessary to plan “campaigns” carefully.   One of the most important skills that it was necessary to develop was the ability to put your own experience, views and opinions to one side and to “step into the other person’s shoes” so as to see the argument from their perspective.  It still amazes me how many people seem unable, or unwilling, to do this.

One important issue that we occasionally had to deal with was helping people plan for retirement.  I was not, and am not, an expert in this field …  and thank goodness we had specialists to help us with this work.  It was amazing how many people did not plan ahead for their retirement.  Newly qualified, young teachers who are starting out on their career have so much to think about and retirement seems so far in the future that they don’t give much thought to the question.  As they get older there are questions and issues which occupy their time and their minds … and retirement is once again pushed into the background.  It is only as the date approaches that they begin to realize how important the question is and what is needed to secure their financial prosperity. Indeed, as I get older and approach retirement age myself, I am often brought up short thinking how poor a job I have done in this respect for myself, (I was once asked a question by a journalist about our plans here in Kyrgyzstan to which I replied: “This is my retirement plan – if all goes well with the tour company and the hotels then I should be able to retire in comfort, but if not then I will probably end up sleeping under London Bridge.”).

Some of my experiences helped me to understand the importance of getting into the mind of the examiner.  The first was when I was at school.

One of my teachers composed exams in two parts – short answer questions which had definite answers: which you could get right, or wrong, and the second part asked for essays for which you got one mark for every relevant fact.  You can imagine my surprise and outrage when for one essay I got a total of “minus two”.  I quickly learnt, however, that this was the way that essays were usually marked … it was possible to write pages and pages of drivel and get no marks or write a couple of pages in “rough notes” and still up a lot of marks – losing only a few, say two or three, for “style”.  It got a bit complicated in later years when every subject had to mark “English Language” as well as content, but basically it was still possible to pick up a creditable pass mark with this technique.

Another important lesson I learned was to look at how many marks were allocated to a question … why spend a long time trying to answer a question which was worth only two or three marks when there were worth 10, 15 or even 20 marks.  There are some examinations, especially multiple choice papers,  (Multiple choice papers tend to have special rules and it is important to know which rules apply), in some cases there is no penalty for wrong answers and always the chance that you would guess correctly so you should never leave an answer blank, on the other hand, if there is a penalty then you should never make a wild guess.

Two of my teachers produced lists of all the examination questions that had been set in their subjects over the years … “since the year dot”, so it seemed when they gave us the lists, they were so long.  They advised us to prepare answers for these questions to prepare ourselves for the examinations, so I dutifully worked through the list, week after week producing one or two answers.  Not only did this provide me with valuable material and practice, I gained valuable revision material and, far more importantly, I realised that there were only a certain number of questions that examiners could ask.  If we had believed that the answer to the first question on the Maths section of the eleven plus examination was always “11″, we were mistaken … but I discovered that there was something to the assertion in  Delderfield’s novel “To serve them all their days” that the first question in the Biology examination was always about Blood … the first question in A-Level Physical Geography was always about Glaciation.  After some analysis of previous papers I realised this, and duly prepared.  Imagine my horror when I read the first question on the paper when I sat the exam … “To what extent can the landforms of the British Islands be ascribed to the Pleistocene period?” … I was stumped … What was the Pleistocene period?  It was only after I left the examination and compared notes with my classmates that I understood … it’s the Ice Age!

If I fell a cropper in the A-Level geography examination … the tactic of analyzing previous papers stood me in good stead in my other subjects.  It’s a technique I took with me into my teaching period and helped a lot of my students through their exams.

Another lesson I learned was when I was in college, preparing for my degree.  One of my tutors recommended attending a series of seminars in one of the Oxford Colleges.  The lectures looked interesting and appropriate – but were not exactly what I thought would be the most useful use of my time … until it was pointed out that the person conducting the seminars was my chief examiner … here was a perfect opportunity to get to know the person who would be marking and grading at least some of my final papers.  I might even get the chance to impress him with suitable questions and answers in the seminars … “it is often more difficult to fail someone when you can put a face to the name”.  I took the opportunity that fate handed to me … and attended the seminars.

My first experience of actually working in the examination system was as a student when I got a holiday job as a “checker” for one of the exam boards.  It surprised me how many so-called “intelligent” people couldn’t add up the marks they had awarded a candidate – and as a result this was something I paid great attention to when I eventually became an examiner.  Later as a with the Certificate of Secondary Education (CSE), which was the equivalent of a school leaving certificate, and the system involved using class teachers as markers and examiners.  Most of this was just like marking a series of class exercises.  It wasn’t any more onerous, although there was a sense of greater responsibility.  You also knew that a sample of your work was checked by someone re-marking the script … your opinion wasn’t final … there was always the chance that your marks would be adjusted – and could even be totally rejected if they were considered to be too erroneous or erratic.

When my career moved into computing I applied for several jobs as a assistant examiner in Computing, (without any expectation of success – hey, my degree was in Theology, not computing or any other related subject), and to my surprise and amazement I was accepted – for all of them!  Every year, from May until August, I spent many long hours marking scripts and coursework projects, and attending meetings.   It was a hard job, carrying great responsibility but it was a great experience which helped me immensely in many different ways.  I would strongly recommend it to any teacher as being both rewarding and worthwhile.

My career began with straight forward marking of short answer questions … these were fairly straight forward.  Essays were much more difficult.  Essays are much more open ended and there is much more room for interpretation – what was the question looking for? what constitutes a relevant fact? and so forth.

I also got employed as a moderator of coursework.  This was much more difficult as it tended to involve much more subjective judgments – even when we had rigid marking schemes to apply.  It was also very rewarding as a form of “in-service” training because you got to see how other people taught and interpreted the same material that you had … the range of projects were also very wide and would often spark off thought processes and lead to interesting developments.

I got promoted within the exam system and became a senior examiner, and reviser, responsible for setting some of the questions … checking them and their answers – were they reasonable?, was the allocation of marks reasonable? did they maintain standards? could they be interpreted by candidates in different ways? could they be answered in the time available? … and so on. On one occasion I vetoed a question because it had been asked three years running.

Amongst the most difficult parts of the job were 1) remarking papers on appeal and writing reports explaining why the candidate, no matter how good they were normally, had not performed as well as expected and 2) running training courses for teachers who, naturally, thought that they knew everything, or at least knew better than the examiners.

However, the most difficult part was dealing with obvious cases of cheating.  This was most often in the case of moderating coursework.  Once, as a classroom teacher, I was faced with a new class and after handing back the first piece of homework a pupil put up his hand and said, “You didn’t give me a mark.”  That was true, there were two people who didn’t get a mark … so I asked who was the other one – and made them both stand up.  I pointed out that the piece of work was worth 15 marks out of 20 – but who should give them to? … Adam or Colin? … or maybe I should split them 50-50, seven and a half each, or maybe … my decision was made for me when Adam said: “Give him the marks …”; nobody in that class ever copied work again.  Often, it is so easy to spot copied work … sometimes it is simple things like two pieces of work being identical – including spelling mistakes – or phrases like: “see Fig.115 opposite” tucked away somewhere in the text that has been copied blindly without any thought – and no figure opposite.  On one occasion I was marking a piece of work and I thought to myself, “I’ve seen this before” … went to the bookshelf and picked out the book with it in … on another I was marking and thought “I’ve seen this before” and went back and checked my records and it had been submitted by another candidate the year before … the only thing that had changed was the title page. (Incidentally, and I was really pleased with this … it got the same marks both years running – at least I was marking consistently … that is until I discovered the plagiarism and referred it back to the school.)  The most embarrassing example was, however when I was marking a piece of and thought to myself, “I’ve seen this before” … I didn’t need to look anything up this time, I recognised it instantly … I should have … because I had written it!  It was a specimen that I had written and given to my class a few years earlier … how this candidate got hold of a copy I don’t know … but it was referred to the board for investigation.

It all began when a teacher left the school.  She taught one of the two computing classes, and as they were timetabled at the same time, the other teacher couldn’t take it over, so someone else was needed.  I was asked.  Up to this point I knew nothing about computers.   My “computing” experiences were limited to log tables, slide rule,  hand operated, rotary,  mechanical calculating machines and simple electronic calculators.  I had the summer to prepare, so I took home a set of text books and worked through them during the summer holidays.  It wasn’t much of a grounding, but it was before the days of microcomputers … and I got away with it.

I had to learn a lot of new topics.  These included:

• the history of computing – which I found fascinating … I still do;
• the machine architecture of the central processing unit, including elementary circuitry, and a wide range of peripherals – input devices for capturing data in different formats, output devices for presenting the results of processing in different formats and memory devices;
• Problem solving techniques, including systems analysis and programming techniques – even how to count or sort a simple list can be quite quite a complex process;
• Coding techniques – from simple Binary encoding to complex database design;
• a variety of computer languages – stating with BASIC, but also PASCAL, LOGO, COBOL, Fortran, APL … and so on … even some examples of assembly code.  I treated it a bit like learning foreign languages, and although I have never been particularly proficient at foreign languages, (it took me three attempts to get a basic O-level equivalent grade in French … and I only really learned a few basic phrases whenever I visited anywhere on holiday … thinks like “two beers, please”), I found that like once you learn one language then a lot of features of that language can be transferred to another.  There are even families of languages like human languages;
• The uses of computers in business, industry, research and so forth – which seemed to an open-ended exercise and opened many new interests and as a result I learned a lot about business practices, industry, engineering and science;
• Communications systems, including security systems;
• Human issues such as: workstation design and ergonomics; working practices; light sensitive epilepsy;
• Legal issues related to computing, such as: contracts; export restrictions; licensing; data protection; Computer misuse; copyright protection and software piracy;
• A range of different types of proprietary software – word processors; spreadsheets; databases; Computer Aided Graphics; Music programs …

… all of which has been extremely useful in later life.

Often I had pupils in my class who were very talented and knew more than I did about some aspects of computing.  To many people of my age, this would have been a real challenge.  To me, on the other hand, I was guided by some research into Teaching Styles and Pupil Progress that I studied long before as a student teacher.  This described a number of different approaches adopted by teachers from the old-fashioned “lecturer” approach where the teacher represents the fount of all knowledge – they lecture and impart information to their students, (this obviously wasn’t appropriate in my circumstances), to the collaborative work-group approach where the teacher is a facilitator, coordinator and “expert” (someone with a wider level of experience and knowledge – which fitted my approach more closely).

I also started to undertake work as an examiner in Computing and served in several capacities for several examination boards, but there is more about that in a separate post.  I found this to be a valuable experience and would recommend it to any teacher.

I also joined the local branch of the British Computer Society as an Associate Member and met many people working in computing which was to prove very useful – especially in terms of learning more about how business work, and how computers were used in the “real world”, outside schools.

Practical work at the time when I started working in computing involved writing computer programs on sheets of paper and sending these “coding sheets” off to the local technical college, where they were types into a terminal and we received the results a few days later.  They rarely ever worked first time, so even a simple program often took several weeks to complete.  We then got a terminal installed in the school which speeded the process up – but it was with the introduction of the RM380Z microcomputer that things really started to take off.  At first we worked with just one microcomputer – but the BBC launched a special educational programme complete with a specially designed, affordable, microcomputer.  The Head saw the adverts for the special, limited offer, and decided to spend what little spare cash the school had to buy some … and things started to move rapidly.

Now, he was even less technically minded than I was – but he saw the future coming … and I congratulate him for that.

As a result we put together a programme – a pioneering programme.  Up until that point, Computing was always seen as a specialist subject – very much maths-orientated with lots of programming … not much in terms of word processing, spreadsheets, design, etc.   We talked about a new kind of course and I drew up a proposal for Computer Awareness course to be taught to all pupils … not computer studies or computer science but concentrating on the use of computers rather than the machines themselves and how they worked.  No-one else in the neighbourhood was offering similar courses.  We were pioneers, pathfinders.  He asked me to become Head of Computing and introduce the course – and that’s I got my second promotion in the same school.

I am amazed when I think back at what we were able to achieve with so little … to start with just one room with ten simple computers which were in use from 7:30 in the morning until 5:50, or later in the evening.  Later we got a suite of three rooms with PC’s but they were still very basic.  They were heady days.

The school’s computers were always in great demand.  Pupils would arrive well before the school day began, come to the computer rooms during the lunch hours and stay long after school finished.  Obviously I couldn’t supervise the facilities all on my own.  My colleagues helped me … but there was a limit to how much we could do … Fortunately there were always senior students who were more than willing to help supervise the facilities and we introduced a system of “Computer Room Prefects”.  There were quite a band of them over the years and I still hear from them from some of them from time to time.

The greater availability and familiarization with computers meant that I was also involved to a greater and greater extent in supporting the teaching of other subjects.  Computing had long been used as a tool in Mathematics but they began to a useful tool in many other subject areas as well, ranging from the sciences to art and design and in modern languages.  Many students began to prepare their coursework on computers and I found myself being involved in many different areas of the curriculum.

The increasing role of computerization was also beginning to be felt in the administration of the school as an organization in itself.  As a result I found that also assumed a role in greater role in school administration.  School records were being computerized, I found myself assisting with the construction of the school timetable and other tasks.  My summer holidays shrank from six weeks to two (if I was lucky … ) as we dealt with timetabling, creating group lists, recording and analyzing examination results.  One of the tasks that this introduced was the need for Data Protection measures – especially after the enactment of the Data Protection Act.

When I eventually left teaching and came to Kyrgyzstan, I had a firm grounding in computing and the use of computers.  Of course, with the passage of time, that grounding is obviously weaker now.  There have been many advances in technology which have passed me by or had a passing influence on me and my developing career here in Central Asia.  I tend to rely on local experts, who have more up-to-date information at their fingertips than I have, for advice … but I often surprise them with the breadth and depth of my knowledge, as a “layman”.

I wasn’t particularly good at maths in Primary School, in fact I tended to get “average” grades, but in my last years that I found a liking and (minor) talent for Mathematics … the crucial moment was when we started algebra … x times y equals xy, a times b equals ab … hey, I could that, no problem – even if I had no real idea at that time what was actually going on, it caught my imagination and I was no longer “afraid” of “sums”.  When I transferred to Secondary school I was frequently top of the class, if not top of the year in terms of Maths.

It came fairly easy to me because I was basically “easy going”.  Maths was a set of rules that had to be applied to give facts, most of them involving numbers.  numbers were still abstract things but the rules were fairly easy to learn and apply.  I made mistakes, of course, (we all do), and there were gaps in my knowledge … but the biggest criticism my teachers had seemed to be with my presentation.  (My handwriting has never been that good – and even today my presentation can be quite scrappy.)

I remember the sense of achievement when I was learning about integral calculus and “Solids of Revolution” and accidentally discovered the formula for volume of a sphere when solving a problem.  I already knew the formula, of course, but had simply learned it “rote fashion” and discovering it once more, demonstrating it for myself.

One of the things that I learned fairly late on was that the rules change depending upon the circumstances of the situation … In many ways, to me, as I was growing up, Maths was like a game … you had to know the rules and how to apply them.  If you worked within the rules, you got a result.  It was some time before I realised that, sometimes, in order to solve a problem you have to “think outside the box”, go beyond the rules, at least the rules as know and understand them at the time.  Go in search of new rules … which explain the situation better.  That’s what “the scientific method” is all about.

Think back to when you learned “sums” … maybe you remember learning something like: “five minus three equals two, but three minus five you cannot do”.   I did, and I was surprised a little while later to learn that in some circumstances it was possible that: “three minus five equals minus two”.  Later I learned that it was possible to multiple these “negative numbers” … “a plus times a plus is a plus – a plus times a minus is a minus and a minus times a minus is a plus”.  Ok, so far no big problem … but then we learned about square roots … the square root of 4 is two … actually “plus or minus two” … it could be the result of “plus two times plus two” or “minus two times minus two” … but “you can’t get a square root of a negative number” like minus four.  Imagine my surprise when I came across the “imaginary number” i, (the square root of minus one), and the whole new realm of complex numbers and Argand Diagrams, and ….  Well, I think you probably get the point.  Even in the Queen of the Sciences, Mathematics, just when you thought you “knew” something, you discover that, in fact, you don’t …

Statistics was worse … just when you thought you had learnt a body of knowledge, say about the Normal Distribution, levels of significance and Confidence intervals, you went on to discover that it wasn’t much good at dealing with small populations, so you had to learn a whole new set of theory associated with Student’s t-test … Both of these tend to works with certain types of data but for others you needed different tools such as the Chi-squared test … and when I was studying Psychology I learned a whole new set of statistical tools.

When I enrolled on an Open University Statistics course, I was quite frustrated and annoyed because they insisted on applying what I considered to be an illogical rule for rounding-off.  I had been taught that when rounding figures then anything over 5 was rounded up and anything less than 5 was rounded down.  So 3.0, 3.1, 3.2, 3.3 and 3.4 would become 3 and 3.5, 3.6, 3.7, 3.8, 3.9 would become 4.  Five cases would round up and five would round down … each would go to the nearest value.  That seemed logical.  However, the tutors for this required that we round even numbers up and odd numbers down – so 3.1, 3.3, 3.5, 3.7 and 39 would round down to 3 while 3.2, 3.4, 3.6 and 3.8 would round up to 4.  As I say, to me this seemed illogical – and although it should have resulted in different in different answers to problems, but I have to take my hat off to the tutors, because some of the problems that they set us were constructed so that it didn’t matter which system you used to round off values – you got the same results.

Perhaps that is one of the reasons I tend towards relativism in philosophical and ethical terms.

Anyway, I quite enjoyed the “game” of Mathematics.

Although I was thinking of entering the church, someone gave me some advice which seemed sensible.  Our Minister had retired and his replacement was a young man, with a young wife who didn’t really see herself as a wife of the Manse.  Most of the people in the church were a lot older than them and, to be fair, she, in particular, didn’t fit in.  I don’t think it was anyone’s fault – indeed, it might just have been a mismatch … if he had been assigned to an inner city church, then I think they would both felt much happier.  They would have felt that they were making a real difference rather than being tucked away in some backwater.  Eventually, he decided that perhaps he had made a mistake and decided to resign … not just from his post as our Minister, but from the Church as a whole.  It was a blow.  I was shocked, but it was pointed out to me that I was also young and who knows what the future might bring.   Instead of deciding to go to Theological College, perhaps I should think like an actor who always has a second string to his bow for when he is “resting” … that is – when he doesn’t have an acting job … a role to perform on stage.  I knew that this was good advice – as I have said elsewhere, I don’t believe in closing doors until you have to … so I looked around and chose teaching as a suitable “second” career.  As things turned out, it was to end up being my main vocation for most of my life – sometimes, I think, even today when I am running a tour business.

My choice of college was based on a number of things: it was not far from home; a Methodist college; and it offered me the chance to follow the two main interests at that time … Theology and Mathematics.  At that time my main interest was Theology, Mathematics was to be the “second string” to my bow.

In my first teaching job I was “Teacher in Charge of Religious Education” but I also taught a few classes of Maths.  It was when I moved to North London that I took up a post teaching just Maths.  This had some advantages, chiefly the fact that I had fewer groups to get to know, (as an Religious Studies teacher I saw about 300 pupils every week … and it was difficult to learn all their names, but now I was down to about half that, which was a lot easier), and I was teaching a subject which, even if it wasn’t popular with everyone, was thought to be useful and not just a “necessary chore”, a statutory obligation.

Even though Maths was thought of as a useful tool, not everyone was keen.  Some were clearly “Matheholcis” with a phobia for the subject.  To be fair, I thought, and still think that some of the topics we had to teach were esoteric and a I understood why some thought they were a waste of time.  I am not sure, for example, that I have ever used the Shimbell Index in real life – although it has helped me understand the concept of “remoteness” of settlements in high mountain areas.  I remember being castigated by one employer because our “graduates” could handle vulgar fractions … and I asked “why do they need to? … why is it important that they can add 11/16ths and 5/27ths?” … I understood that some branches of engineering still used eights, sixteenths, thirty-seconds and sixty-fourths … but this was clearly a minority and as metrication was being adopted as a norm, even they were becoming irrelevant.  Perhaps we were still supposed to teach the unitary fractions of Ancient Egypt?  As it happens, I could see reasons for teaching fractions … they are important for understanding a variety of techniques and concepts in higher mathematics, and they do help to teach and develop logical thought processes … but I could not see why they were considered so important for school leavers who going to work as shop assistants, policemen and the like.

I was reminded of this argument when, here in Kyrgyzstan, an acquaintance (he was studying tourism and he knew that I had been a Maths teacher) .asked me to help him with his homework.  At first I declined … “Ruslan, ” I said, “it will all be in Russian – I won’t understand”, to which he replied, “Ian, it’s Maths, it’s all numbers …”.  So I agreed to have a look.  Because he was studying tourism, I expected the exercise to be arithmetic, book-keeping, or statistics … something like that.  It turned out to be Thermo-dynamics.  Apart from the fact I knew virtually nothing about the subject, I couldn’t see for the life of me why he had to learn Thermo-dynamics.  If there was a problem with the central heating, wouldn’t they call for an engineer to sort it all out?

I got on well with most classes – although there ups and downs.  I tried to make lessons “fun” if I could – with jokes and stories, competitions, puzzles and quizzes, (with Mars Bar prizes for correct answers).  There were times when my sense of humour served me well, defusing potentially difficult situations and potentially problematic students.

I was fortunate in that I that there was a Statistics class that needed a teacher … now Statistics was my applied option, (not Mechanics) … so I was asked to take it.  A short while later I was asked by the local technical college to teach Statistics to an adult education evening class.  I wouldn’t say that I was in “seventh heaven” but I was beginning to feel that I had “landed on my feet”.

One of my “hobbies” was scouring bookshops for copies of old Mathematics textbooks.  It was fascinating to see the various topics and how they were handled over the years … I often used examples in lessons.  It was an odd “hobby” and I never met anyone else who had such a collection, although I am sure there must have been some.  When I eventually left to come to Kyrgyzstan, I had to dispose of many, many possessions and that included a large part of my library … although I had little difficulty in finding takers for some books (e.g. the Kinsey Reports) nobody was interested in the maths textbooks … and I am afraid that they were lost to the tip.  I did bring a few books with me – a “Dictionary of Numbers”, a History of Mathematics, and “A mathematician Reads the Newspapers”.  I still occasionally dip into them.

The obvious question that came to my mind was “why?” … First of all, his degree is in Restaurant Management … so why Chemistry?  His answer was that he had studied Chemistry as part of his course … he really enjoyed the subject had even participated in a National Chemistry Olympiad.  He felt that perhaps he had made the wrong career choice earlier in life … but at the time there hadn’t been the opportunities to enroll on a chemistry course.  I must admit that, given my history, I had some sympathy with this – although I doubted if he had enough background to teach the subject.

Secondly, why did he think he could be a teacher.  Some people think that teaching is easy … after all, everyone has been through school and observed many different examples of teachers at work – some successful and inspiring … others less so.  Everyone seems to be an educational expert.  I have even heard some tell me that “all you have to do is stand up at the front of the class and spout some facts, mark a few books and you are free to go home at four o’clock”.  Put like that I suppose it does sound easy … if only that was the case.

There is a lot more to it than that, however.  I remember when I first realized that simply knowing something didn’t necessarily mean that you could teach it to someone else … I was about 15 or 16 at the time and some people from church who knew that I was good at Maths, asked if I could help their son, who was about two years younger than me, because he was having difficulty.  I wasn’t sure about this, mainly because we didn’t really get on … he was an only child and “very full of himself” … but I said I would have a go.  I can’t remember the topic but it was something straightforward like Pythagoras – you have so know some basic facts, apply a formula and get the answer … the sums were easy, but “problems” could be a little more difficult because you had to find you way through the words to discover exactly what was going on and the words were a distraction.  He couldn’t get it and at one point I exclaimed “Come on, it’s easy!” to which he replied … “It is when you know how.”

This experience was not exactly a success and I don’t think I inspired him … but it didn’t put me off.   I had quite a pleasant time at school … got on well with the teachers and my peers … liked my subjects … and on the basis of this positive background and stories like “Goodbye Mr. Chips”, like so many others, I thought that teaching would be an easy career.

Once I got to college, I soon came to realize that there was a lot more to it.  As well as studying my subject, developing my own skills and placing what I had already learned into a wider context, we studied the educational system and the history of it’s development, psychology and sociology (child development, socialization, how people see, how people remember, motivation …. )  and other practical skills that we would need such as educational technology (the use of duplicators, tape recorders, overhead projectors, video players and that sort of thing …); voice projection; presentation of displays, worksheets etc.  To be fair, some of it seemed superfluous, like “teaching your grandmother to suck eggs” … and there were lots of things that I think we perhaps ought to have covered but never did … but I suppose they only had three years … and a lot of ground to cover.

In my three years of training I did teaching practice in three very different schools … and taught a wide variety of subjects and classes … children of various ages and abilities … one thing they all seemed to have in common was that they were totally different from what I had expected.  There is no way that those three teaching practices prepared me for what was to follow … but they did provide food for thought …

My teaching career proper began in a large rural comprehensive school – on three sites so there was a fair amount of traveling to do throughout the day.  I was Teacher in Charge of Religious Education … the only teacher of Religious Education, as it happened.  Being the only one, however, I couldn’t take every class and there were a couple of people to help me … but basically I was left on my own devices.

The classes were not very interested in Religion … it was very much a chore and very little of what be called “traditional religion” seemed to grab their imagination.  Bible stories were a real “turn off” – and I had to be very careful how I introduced them.  Something with a practical element like “ethics” or “logic” sparked some discussion but the real surprise was when I introduced an element of comparative religion … they were very interested in this – especially as we based the work on a newly published book set in an inner city, multi cultural school.  One of the reasons it was such a surprise was that everything was so alien … an inner city school – but we were in a rural community; multi-cultural – when the one we were in was mono-cultural, Christian.  The only thing they had in common with the characters in the book was their ages.

I also had some Maths classes and because I saw them several times instead of just once a week, I got to them much better than the other classes.

It wasn’t all classroom based … one of my tasks was to organize the school’s big charity event … one of the Senior teachers was a great supporter of Christian Aid and every year they had a big fund raising effort for the organization … one year I was given the job of supervising the stage lighting for school productions … not that I really knew anything about the subject and had to do a lot of rapid learning … but, fortunately there was a pool of talented sixth formers who knew a lot more about it than I did and were quite happy to get on with it.

There were several incidents which stick in my mind from this time.  One involved a pupil who wrote an essay for me.  It was his first piece of written work for me and when I handed it back I said that there was one point I didn’t understand … to which he replied, “Oh, so you did read it then?”  Pardon?  Apparently he would often write a bit of gobbledygook, nonsense, somewhere in the middle to see if the teacher actually read it.  It seems I had passed with flying colours.

In another I did not do so well.   A pupil stayed behind after the end of a lesson and told me a sad and disturbing story.  His grandmother had died recently and had returned and was haunting him.  They held conversations.  These events were accompanied by flashing lights.  I didn’t know what to say … I felt very uncomfortable … I “passed the buck” and told him to talk to the local vicar as he knew the grandmother and would be able to advise him what to do.  To this day I am still uncomfortable about this … and I still don’t know what I should have done, what else I could have done.  The disturbing thing about this story, however, took place several years later … when I went on a course about “Dealing with Loss” … that is bereavement.  There panels of sociologists and psychiatrists and when I told the story, hoping, expecting to get some helpful advice … they burst out laughing.  To be fair … I think they were just as surprised, shocked and as much at a loss as I was … but it didn’t make me feel any better.

The Headteacher of the school had a basic rule of thumb … the first year a teacher worked in the school, especially if they were a probationary teacher like me, (that is they were newly qualified and new to teaching), then they were basically “taking” from the school – gaining experience and additional “on the job training”.  Everything is a new experience.  During the Second year its a case of “fifty-fifty” … they are still learning, but they are also putting into practice that they learned in the first year.  By the time they get to the third year, they are “giving back” to the school.  Now, it seemed to me, (and still does), that that’s a bit crude, but there is a lot of truth in it and it makes a lot sense in a school situation where there is a clear annual cycle.   Anyway, I did my three years and and then felt that it was time to move on … so I started looking around for the next step in my career.

I applied for a job in London … returning to my “first love”, Mathematics.  In fact, I didn’t get the job … at the interview we were told that someone else had been appointed, but “it was a close decision and thanks for applying”.  So, I got quite a surprise a few days later when I got a phone call saying that the successful applicant had to withdraw and asking if I was still interested in the job.  Yes, I was, and so  moved to London where I was to stay for the next seventeen years.

Having been, nominally at least, my own boss as “Teacher in charge of Religious Education”, I now joined the rank and file as ordinary classroom teacher.  I had fewer groups to get to know, (as an Religious Studies teacher I saw about 300 pupils every week … and it was difficult to learn all their names, but now I was down to about half that, which was a lot easier), and I was teaching a subject which, even if it wasn’t popular with everyone, was thought to be useful and not just a “necessary chore”, a statutory obligation.  I got on well with the classes – although, yes, there were “ups and downs”.

Although it was a city school, it was suburban rather than an inner-city school.  It was multi-cultural with large Jewish, Cypriot, (both Greek and Turkish), and Asian communities.  Most of the time these groups got on well together – although, particularly in my early years, there was a sizeable group of “skinheads” under the influence of the National Front.

The “three year rule” seemed to come into play once more … no, I wasn’t really looking for a new job, but one came along.  This time, I didn’t have to apply – it was offered to me.  The funny thing is that I probably wouldn’t have applied for it.  As it happened, the second in the Department got a job as Head of Maths in another school and so there was a vacancy.  I assumed that the second in the department ought to be someone with, at least, a Maths degree – but, fortunately for me, the Head of Department and the Headteacher didn’t seem to agree. Now, when you are offered promotion like this, it is difficult to turn it down – and I didn’t.

I was fortunate in that I that there was a Statistics class that needed a teacher … now Statistics was my applied option … so I was asked to take it.  A short while later I was asked by the local technical college to teach Statistics to an adult education evening class.  I wouldn’t say that I was in “seventh heaven” but I was beginning to feel that I had “landed on my feet”.

The next big move came when yet another teacher moved on … she taught one of the two computing classes, and as they were timetabled at the same time, the other teacher couldn’t take it over, so someone else was needed.  You’ve guessed it … I was asked.  Now, up to this point I knew nothing about computers.   My “computing” experiences were limited to log tables, slide rule,  hand operated, rotary,  mechanical calculating machines and simple electronic calculators.  I had the summer to prepare, so I took home a set of text books and worked through them during the summer holidays.  It wasn’t much of a grounding, but it was before the days of microcomputers … and I got away with it.

Practical work at that time involved writing programs on sheets of paper and sending these “coding sheets” off to the local technical college, where they were types into a terminal and we received the results a few days later.  They rarely ever worked first time, so even a simple program often took several weeks to complete.  We then got a terminal installed in the school which speeded the process up – but it was with the introduction of the RM380Z microcomputer that things really started to take off.  At first we worked with just one microcomputer – but the BBC launched a special educational programme complete with a specially designed, affordable, microcomputer.  The Head saw the adverts for the special, limited offer, and decided to spend what little spare cash the school had to buy some … and things started to move rapidly.

Now, he was even less technically minded than I was – but he saw the future coming … and I congratulate him for that.

As a result we put together a programme – a pioneering programme.  Up until that point, Computing was always seen as a specialist subject – very much maths-orientated with lots of programming … not much in terms of word processing, spreadsheets, design, etc.   We talked about a new kind of course and I drew up a proposal for Computer Awareness course to be taught to all pupils … not computer studies or computer science but concentrating on the use of computers.  No-one else in the neighbourhood was offering similar courses.  We were pioneers, pathfinders.  He asked me to become Head of Computing and introduce the course- and that’s I got my second promotion.

I am amazed when I think back at what we were able to achieve with so little … to start with just one room with ten simple computers which were in use from 7:30 in the morning until 5:50, or later in the evening.  Later we got a suite of three rooms with PC’s but they were still very basic.  They were heady days.

There is a phrase in English that describes the ennui that occurs in the course of a relationship: “the seven year itch”.  Apparently, after seven years the partners in a relationship feel the drive to seek new openings, new opportunities.  At Ashmole it took, not seven years, but seventeen.  To be honest, I was beginning to feel jaded and in need of a change.  The opportunity came when my friend Tony offered me the chance to come to Kyrgyzstan.  He suggested a year would be sufficient to open an office … and I was tempted.  When I was at college the James commission suggested that teachers should be offered the chance to undertake a sabbatical once every seven years, (another example of the seven year itch?), and I thought then that it was a good idea.  It would enable teachers to take a break, catch up on ideas and theories that would help them to make their teaching more relevant and practical … I still think that.  However, the option was never implemented and to come to Kyrgyzstan would have meant giving up my job and a career that I had invested much over the years to develop.  For this reason, I wasn’t very keen.  The crucial point came when the school said that they would grant me a sabbatical … they would appoint a temporary replacement for the year and keep my job available for me … even if I decided not to come back to the UK and they would have to find a permanent replacement.  After seventeen years in one school, even if my role had changed several times, I was suffering from fatigue and in search of new and different challenges.  It seemed too good a chance to miss.

To be fair, I thought I would return to the UK and to teaching … but as it turned out … I ended up staying here longer than planned, (“the best laid plans of mice and men …” … and all that!).

I ended up staying and giving up a career that had meant much to me.  On the other hand that same career had also given me much and taught me much.  It was to be extremely useful to me in my time in Kyrgyzstan.

However, my career in formal education did not end with my move to Kyrgyzstan … I have maintained links with training and occasionally give lectures or conduct seminars on a variety of courses … and I feel that sometimes I still have a contribution to offer in this field and my experience as a practitioner is an invaluable element to this.

Let’s start with the simple and the obvious … my name is Ian Claytor. I am British and was born on 8th March, 1953, in Malvern, Worcestershire.

Ian is a Scottish name, (it’s the Scottish equivalent of John, or “God’s Gift”), although there is nothing Scottish about the family. There aren’t that many Claytors around … and it seems that the Malvern branch of the family originally came from Nottinghamshire. There’s a family legend that tells that we are descended originally from a family called Clayton, who were local squires and landowners, but there was a scandal involving a gypsy girl and a curse placed on the “seventh son of the seventh son” … they seem to have gone in for big families in those days … and in an attempt to overcome the curse one of my ancestors changed his name by replacing the final letter, an “n”, with an an “r”. (An attempt to create an “alpha effect” with an “omega change”, as Arthur C. Clarke put it in one of his short stories.) I am not sure I believe the account, but it makes for a good story.

Actually, Ian is what it says on my Birth Certificate and in my passport – so it is my official name – but according to Canon Law, (Church Law, that is), it’s not my name at all. When I was born my mother had Tuberculosis – it cost her a lung and my father once told me that they “pulled the curtains”, (meaning that they thought that she was about to die), not just once but twice during this period. Anyway, when I finally made my appearance, they were so concerned that I might not survive that the doctor christened me then and there. Apparently he named me Royston and, as I said, according to Canon Law, once you are christened, then you have been given a name and that is your name. Full Stop! So, how come I am now Ian Claytor and not Royston Claytor. My mother explained it me like this: my older brother, Tony, had trouble saying my name – even in the short version, Roy. Apparently, he kept calling me “Boy”. “No son of mine is going to go through life being called “Boy”", she decided, and so when it came time to officially register the birth with the authorities, she changed it to Ian.

She thought she had solved the problem because no-one could shorten the name … but she was thwarted by Richard, my best friend at primary school, who would insist on calling me “Ee”. I think that, at times, she felt that she could have throttled him.

In answer to one of the questions that I am most often asked here, I have to report that I am single and have never been married and so, no, I am not divorced and no, I have no children – although I do have a number of cats. You can read more about them here.

As I said, I have an older brother, Tony, who is married to Christine and they have two teenage sons, Dominic and Lawrie and live in Hertfordshire.

For the first two and half years of my life when my mother was ill with TB, I had been passed from relative to relative eventually ending up in a children’s home in Stourbridge in North Worcestershire. One of earliest memories is of playing on the swings at the home. Another is of sitting in the backseat of the car my parents had borrowed when they came to fetch me and, looking out of the back window seeing a big bright “Midland Red” bus turn the corner behind us.

Malvern, where I grew and went to school, was a small town of about 30,000 but it was originally a number of villages, (Great Malvern, Malvern Link, North Malvern, West Malvern, Little Malvern, Malvern Wells and a number with names that don’t contain the name Malvern), which grew up around the Malvern Hills.

My father was a postman for all his life, except for the war years when he served as a tank driver, driving a Churchill tank in North Africa and up through Italy. He was also a Trade Union official, serving for many years as the local branch secretary of the Union of Post Office Workers), an example I was to follow later on in life. My mother was a housewife for most of her life, but did spend some time working a shorthand typist and secretary. She was very fond of handicrafts and I think she would have found the traditional crafts of the Kyrgyz very interesting and would have enjoyed making Shyrdaks, Ala Kiyiz, Kurak and Saima embroidery.

I wasn’t a particularly good student at school. In fact I still have my school report where one of my teachers commented: “Ian works well when he can’t avoid it” … and I still wonder why he couldn’t have stuck with the traditionally tried and tested: “Could do better”, but it was at least original and showed that I wasn’t just “one of the crowd”. My schooldays, of course, did much to shape my future career, but there’s more about that here. Anyway, I must have done reasonably well because I ended up with three A-Levels and a place at Teacher Training college and the backdoor into Oxford University and an Oxford degree, and there’s more about that here.

Oxford was an adventure. Up until then I hadn’t traveled much and my horizons were very much limited to Malvern where I had grown up. I had been to the seaside at Weston-Super-Mare, (or Weston-Super-Mud as we called it because when the tide went out, the sea retreated so far that there seemed to be nothing but miles and miles of wet sand), and to Cornwall with the family of my best friend … they later moved there and he still lives there and now runs a number of hotels in the area – so we’re colleagues. Oxford, however, was different … it wasn’t a holiday, just a week or two … I was on my own, and I made the most of it.

I made some good friends in college, and we kept in touch for a while after we finished our course. When it came time for everyone to leave and go make their own way in the world, one of my friends, took my address but said: “I don’t promise to keep in touch … maybe I will, but think how many friends you had at school that you’ve lost touch with – and that was only three or four years ago … people move on, and I don’t like making promises I don’t know if I can keep.” It’s sad, but she was right – and I have always remembered that … especially the bit promises – after all, an Englishman’s word is supposed to be his bond!

After college it was a question of finding a job … and I got thrown in at the deep end. I became the Teacher in Charge of Religious Education in a large school in Thame in rural Oxfordshire. OK … “teacher in charge” … the only teacher of Religious Education, as it happened. Being the only one, however, I couldn’t take every class and there were a couple of people to help me … but basically I was left on my own devices.

It was in Thame that I started to follow my father’s footsteps and joined a union. It wasn’t exactly what you would think of as a Trade Union … or at least what I thought of at that time as a Trade Union. Teaching isn’t exactly a “blue collar”, working class, profession, and the union that I chose was not militant by any means. Some people referred to us conservative, or even “right wing”, but that wasn’t really true. We preferred to call ourselves the “moderate” teachers’ union. Normally, I “don’t do things by halves” and guided by the principles that although “membership has its privileges” it also has its responsibilities, so I found myself taking an active role in Association affairs. After the move to London, this grew year by year and before I know it I was branch secretary, and in the course of the next seventeen years I also took on the roles (at different times) of Branch Treasurer and Chairman as well as a conference delegate and Branch representative, negotiating with employers, local authorities and, on one occasion, a Minister of the Crown. As it happens, this experience taught me an awful lot and helped me a great deal when I came to Kyrgyzstan and I found myself attending meetings (and sometimes arguing) with government officials, Ministers and even Prime Ministers and Presidents and two British princes of the realm. (Yes, two … strange isn’t it, I traveled half way around the world to meet two members of my own Royal Family!)

The Headteacher in Thame had a basic rule of thumb … the first year a teacher worked in the school, especially if they were a probationary teacher like me, (that is they were newly qualified and new to teaching), then they were basically “taking” from the school – gaining experience and additional “on the job training”. Everything is a new experience. During the Second year its a case of “fifty-fifty” … they are still learning, but they are also putting into practice that they learned in the first year. By the time they get to the third year, they are “giving back” to the school. Now, it seemed to me, (and still does), that that’s a bit crude, but there is a lot of truth in it and it makes a lot sense in a school situation where there is a clear annual cycle. Anyway, I did my three years and and then started looking around for the next step in my career.

I applied for a job in London … returning to my “first love”, Mathematics. In fact, I didn’t get it … at the interview we were told that someone else had been appointed, but “it was a close decision and thanks for applying”. So, I got quite a surprise a few days later when I got a phone call saying that the successful applicant had to withdraw and asking if I was still interested in the job. Yes, I was, and so I made another of the big decisions in my life and moved to London.

Having been, nominally at least, my own boss as “Teacher in charge of Religious Education”, I now joined the rank and file as ordinary classroom teacher. I had fewer groups to get to know and was teaching a subject which, even if it wasn’t popular with everyone, was thought to be useful and not just a “necessary chore”, a statutory obligation. I got on well with the classes – although, yes, there were “ups and downs”. I was there for seventeen years. That’s a long time, but although it was seventeen years in one school, I actually had several different jobs during that time. After a few years as a classroom Maths teacher, I took on classes in Statistics and then Computing, IT and vocational courses as well as taking on various administrative roles within the school. There’s more about that here.

I also took on a role as an examiner, (in both Maths and Computing). My first experience of working in the examination system was as a student when I got a holiday job as a “checker” for one of the exam boards. It surprised me how many so-called “intelligent” people couldn’t add up the marks they had awarded a candidate – and as a result this was something I paid great attention to when I eventually became an examiner. Later as a with the Certificate of Secondary Education (CSE), which was the equivalent of a school leaving certificate, and the system involved using class teachers as markers and examiners. When my career moved into computing I applied for several jobs as a assistant examiner in Computing, (without any expectation of success – hey, my degree was in Theology, not computing or any other related subject), and to my surprise and amazement I was accepted – for all of them! Every year, from May until August, I spent many long hours marking scripts and coursework projects, and attending meetings. It was a hard job, carrying great responsibility but it was a great experience which helped me immensely in many different ways. I would strongly recommend it to any teacher as being both rewarding and worthwhile. (There’s more about my experiences here.)

As I said before, I didn’t travel very much when I was young. Now, during those seventeen years I really got the travel bug. I traveled to various places around Britain, visited France two or three times every year and also lots of other places in Europe, (Albania, Austria, Belgium, Czechoslovakia, Germany, Greece, Holland, Ireland, Italy, Monaco, Norway, Portugal, Spain, Sweden, Turkey, Yugoslavia, …). I went to the States four times, New Zealand, French Polynesia, Pakistan, Thailand, China (Hong Kong) and several of the Caribbean islands. I even visited Russia, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan … but little did I know at the time that I would end up living here! I regret that I never made it to Africa or South America (… ever since I studied South America as part A-Level Geography, I have wanted to go to Brazil – especially the Amazon). I always enjoyed visiting new places, seeing the sights and being able to point to something and say to myself, “I remember learning about that in Geography, or History, or … whatever, and now I am seeing it in real life”; meeting new people; trying new food; learning about different cultures. One thing I didn’t really like was sitting on a beach, sunbathing. I was prepared to do it occasionally if my friends on holiday wanted to do so, provided we split the holiday and did some “”exploring” as well. I felt that it was wasting too much valuable time. As the Beatles put it: “Life is very short and there’s no time for …”, well they said (sang) “fussing and fighting, my friend”, but as far as I was concerned it should have been “sitting around idle”. I suppose it was the “Protestant work ethic” which had been instilled in me by this time.

In fact, I like being busy and I kept (keep) myself busy in many ways. I also have an obsessive personality and tend “not to do things by halves”

As well as teaching, examining and my work with the union, another way was my involvement in Rugby. Although I have tried my hand at many sports I have never been a great sportsman. In my schooldays, however, I played Rugby for the school team and the local club. I was never very good at it … I joke that my position was seventeenth man (for those that don’t know – a rugby team consists of fifteen players!). Even when I stopped playing as the result of an injury, I continued to coach one of the school teams and to referee some matches … although I can’t say that I really enjoyed either.

Another thing I undertook was “in-service” training. I am a great believer that education is a lifelong activity. We are always meeting new experiences, and the world is constantly changing with new facts being discovered and new technologies being developed and so we need to prepare ourselves for the challenges of tomorrow … and not rely on what we learned in the dim and distant past. When I went on my first “First Aid” course, for example, we were taught that the way to deal with a nose bleed was to pinch the bridge of the nose and put the patients head back with the nose in the air, but a couple of years later at the refresher course we were told to pinch the bridge of the nose and bend the patient forward with the nose down. As it was explained to us, if the head is back then there is a chance for the blood to flow through the nasal cavity into the mouth and then into the throat … causing all sorts of complications. It wasn’t, however, just a case of keeping up-to-date. I’m a bit like a sponge in learning new things. I loved playing Trivial Pursuits! I once included an obscure fact in a history essay at school and the teacher circled it in red and added a comment “Where did this come from?” I took great pleasure in telling him it was a book that he had told us we all ought to buy. I had done so, and showed him the reference. There was nothing he could say in reply apart from: “You remember the strangest things!” As a result I also took a number of courses which had nothing to do with work and my favourite was “Looking at Paintings” from the Open University. I don’t know if they still offer it … but it was very enlightening in many different respects. Attending courses is something I miss here … but the internet is a great tool and I feel very fortunate in being able to research almost any topic.

The next big decision in my life involved the move to Kyrgyzstan. In fact it wasn’t one decision, it was a series of at least three during the course of just over a year: to come here; to stay and what to do once I had decided to stay.

Tony, a friend whom I had known since my days in Oxford, worked as a lawyer for a large international firm based in London. His first visit to Kyrgyzstan was in the early 1990′s as part of his work – and he fell in love with the country and the people. On his suggestion I came here on holiday in 1994 and although I liked the place I never really thought that much more about it until he told me that he had landed a job here, wanted to open his law firm and needed help to set up the office. Would I come and help him? Yes, OK. I originally came for one year, but things never quite go according to plan and as the year was coming to an end there was still lots to do, so I stayed on to finish the job. I could have gone back home. I had a job waiting for me and staying here meant saying goodbye to that and a career that I had been developing for twenty years. To be honest, however, I was ready for a change and I looked forward to meeting the challenges of starting something new.

Once I decided to stay, and the office was up and running it was a case of “what do I do now?”. We looked at several options and eventually decided that the most perspicacious was Tourism … and so, together with another friend from the UK, we started the Celestial Mountains Tour Company, and two hotels. We would have liked to open more, but, (as I keep saying), things don’t always go according to plan.

As before, I keep myself busy. There’s never a dull moment. If ever I seem to stop and be idle, it’s not because I have nothing to do … it’s because I have so much to do that I don’t know where to start. I am involved in a number of projects here in Kyrgyzstan. I am an active member of the International Business Council (IBC) and the Kyrgyz Association of Tour Operators (KATO) – in fact I am the president of the Association, which always raises an eyebrow – an Englishman as the President of a Kyrgyz Association … but then some people say (jokingly) that, after fourteen years here, I am almost half Kyrgyz anyway. (I have actually taken out official “Residence” status but, no, I am not looking to take out Kyrgyz citizenship – to do that I would have to give up my British passport, and I am not keen to do that.) Some people even say I am more enthusiastic about all things Kyrgyz than most of the locals. I have even been thanked by locals for telling them things about Kyrgyzstan that they didn’t know … or for showing them a part of Kyrgyzstan that they haven’t seen before.

So, that’s my story … or, at least, part of my story. There’s obviously a lot of details missing but it should help to give you a feel of who I am, where I am coming from and why I say some of the things I do in these postcards.

Thanks for reading this far …