It’s not that often that life swerves around as much as mine seems to have in the past month, but then again, it’s not that often in life that your path takes you halfway around the world to a country few Americans have heard of.

A week ago now, I moved to my permanent site in Osh City. It is the single biggest transition that I’ve experienced thus far, and it has been filled with excitement and anticipation. I now have lived in Kyrgyzstan for over two months, longer than both Tajikistan and China, and second only to Geneva, whose tenure I will surpass only as I prepare to leave Kyrgyzstan.

My second month here, though, was spent in the same village outside the capital as before, only this time, we knew both where we would be moving and what we would be doing – at least, to the extent that it is possible to know and fully understand a fully unknowable situation. It was much of the same exploration of language (that is a kind way of saying I sat on the floor for 6 hours a day conjugating verbs, which I did in fact very much enjoy), and learning our policies during weekly all-trainee meetings.

All that hard work paid off, though; I feel comfortable moving around and living life here in Kyrgyz, and I scored much higher than I had expected to on my language proficiency exam. It’s a very good feeling, and people here react with a warm surprise when they hear that I have learned Kyrgyz, and are even more surprised that I have learned it well. They also laugh when I tell them that I don’t speak Russian. So far, I’ve managed to discuss with people the Aral Sea environmental crisis, a variety of intervention strategies for narcotics users, what a marathon is, and my thoughts on the skating stylings of Irina Rodnina (how my Kyrgyz relative-in-law was so well versed in 1970’s Soviet pairs skating I will never know).

In early June, We participated in “Culture Day,” where we donned traditional clothing and presented skits of traditional Kyrgyz ceremonies, dances, songs, and even how to cook certain foods. My group presented a 70th birthday “jubilee” ceremony, as well as “how to make Samsa,” which is one of my favorite pan-Central Asian foods. I’ll get a recipe up on here at some point, but until then, you’ll just have to imagine (or visit your friendly local Central Asian restaurant).

The next day, I tagged along to Issyk-Ata, a resort far up in the mountains with a “sanatorium” (from the same root as “sanitation,” not “insanity” – it’s basically a hotel and health spa with good hiking). We watched mountains, hiked up to a waterfall, and practiced our conversation with both locals and two of our Kyrgyz teachers who came along for fun. We got some spectacular photos along the way, and got the chance to relax for at least a moment as the pressure ramped up for us to perform well on our language exams.

The following weekend, my host family took me to the Burana Tower, which is a restored minaret that dates back to the early days of the Silk Road. Afterwards, they took me for a picnic dinner with some friends and the kids. We unfurled a plastic tablecloth, unrolled some tyshyks (like thin portable mattresses), and pulled out two chickens (cooked), sausage, a cheese that tasted suspiciously like Comté, soda, and plenty of napkins. It was a great family excursion to one of the archeological highlights of Kyrgyzstan.

All of this was a fitting way to begin to pay tribute to two months that were incredibly hard, but also that have done an amazing job preparing us for our two years of service. In two months, I achieved a proficiency in Kyrgyz that I would have envied after a year of university study. In two months, we went from knowing only where we were to understanding a great deal of culture and history. And in two months, we became part of a family and tradition of volunteers, all working together here to help Kyrgyzstan and to share experiences and memories.

I’m officially a volunteer now. Let the work begin.