foreign languages

November 2020 Alumni Profile

David McVey, MAs in Slavic and East European Studies and Geography, Class of 2006

David McVey

David McVey

 What was your focus or research interest when you studied at OSU?

I graduated from the master’s program at OSU’s Center for Slavic and East European Studies in 2006. I was glad that the center allowed me simultaneously to work toward a second degree in geography. Geography has always been my passion, and geographic thinking has informed the way I approach research and analysis. It’s a frame of mind that provides a novel outlook on any problem. As a pre-MA student, I was even able to publish an article in a peer-reviewed geography journal with the help of the Center’s personnel, Dr. Halina Stephan and Dr. Jason Vuic. I greatly appreciated the Center’s interdisciplinary approach to area studies, which permitted me to chart my own course to a graduate degree.

How has your CSEES MA helped you throughout your post-graduate life?

I value the foundation CSEES helped me lay for my future career, particularly outside academia. The research and writing skills I developed in classes in the program contributed to my success as a contracted immigration assistant for United States Citizenship and Immigration Services at the U.S. Embassy in Moscow. In addition to working as a simultaneous translator for refugee interviews, I served as the primary point of contact for all congressional and legal immigration inquiries. I researched file archives, online databases, and other manuals to collect the materials necessary to respond to often aggressive demands from congresspersons and attorneys concerning their constituents and clients. Owing to the writing guidance that I had received in CSEES courses, I was able to compose expedient, detailed, professional, evidence-based replies and provide accurate, logically presented information to represent my office.

If you are a traveler, what is one of your favorite trips you have taken?

When I was working in Moscow, I took a close friend on a tour of the three Baltic countries: Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. He wanted to see something of Russian culture but was hesitant about traveling to Russia proper. Estonia and Latvia have significant Russian-speaking minorities, so we were able to immerse ourselves in a diverse environment of related, yet distinctive cultures, including Russian. We sampled the local cuisines, including zeppelins, gray peas, and pickled herring for breakfast. We filled our cameras with photographs of spectacular architecture, including the particolored doors and gates of old-town Tallinn and the art nouveau facades of central Riga, many of which were designed by Mikhail Eisenstein, father of the renowned Soviet director. We wore out our feet in captivating museums, mesmerized by innovative displays in the Kadriorg Art Museum and immersive, avant-garde exhibits at the Vilnius Contemporary Art Center. We even got to know some locals while we traveled by plane, train, and bus. When our flight from Tallinn to Vilnius was cancelled, an affable business traveler at our gate welcomed us into the frequent-flyer lounge on his account, and we spent a few hours chatting with him. I encourage anyone with a background in Russian to explore this fascinating corner of Eastern Europe, where you will be amazed at every turn, and where your knowledge of Russian will only serve as a bonus.

Nicholas Seay Participates in American Councils’ Eurasian Regional Language Program

By Nicholas Seay

Nicholas Seay, a second-year PhD Student in the Department of History spent two months this summer learning Tajik through the American Councils Eurasian Regional Language Program (ERLP). The ERLP program provides high-quality language instruction and specially designed cultural programming for students studying the languages of Central Asia, the South Caucasus, Russia, Ukraine, and Moldova. Languages available to study include Armenian, Azerbaijani, Turkish, Georgian, Chechen, Kazakh, Kyrgyz, Romanian, Bashkir, Buryat, Tatar, Yakut, Persian (Dari, Farsi, Tajik), Pashto, Uzbek, and Ukrainian.

Karakul Lake, Tajikistan

While the COVID-19 pandemic led American Councils to cancel in-person language learning programs, the majority of classes were still offered online. “The ability to continue to work towards the language skills necessary for my research while ensuring that students, staff, and instructors had the opportunity to work safely during the pandemic made this a unique opportunity. I am very happy to see American Councils working so hard to ensure that all programs are carried out safely,” Nicholas explained. In both Fall 2020 and Spring 2021 American Councils programming will continue to operate online.

Nicholas Seay Giving an Uzbek Language Presentation

Nicholas first traveled to Tajikistan in 2017 as part of the State Department’s Critical Language Scholarship program for the study of Persian. Iranian Persian (sometimes called Farsi) and Tajik Persian are closely related. While Iranian Persian served as Nicholas’ initial encounter with Persian, his research interests in the history of cotton production in Soviet Tajikistan have led him to redirect his focus towards Tajik. As Nicholas described, “One advantage of studying with ERLP was the ability to study the specifics of the Tajik language and begin to understand regional dialects within Tajikistan.”

In the future, Nicholas hopes to combine his Russian and Tajik language skills in archival and oral history work in Russia and Tajikistan. His summer online studies were partially funded by support from the History Department at Ohio State and with the support of a Fulbright-Hays Fellowship from the U.S. Department of Education. Nicholas will be hosting a virtual information session on October 5th at 3:00 PM for undergraduate, graduate, and professional students interested in pursuing similar opportunities with American Councils ERLP and related programs. To RSVP for this information session, follow the link here.

Philip Kopatz’s Fulbright Experience

By Philip Kopatz

September 7th, 2019: I had been in Kharkiv, Ukraine on a Fulbright English Teaching Assistantship (ETA) for a week and was finally getting my teaching schedule. I had been assigned to the history faculty and my advisor told me “Your first class is on Monday. You’ll be teaching by yourself which is nice since you won’t have to report to anybody.” I replied in utter disbelief, “You know I have no teaching experience, right?” He calmly replied, “You won’t have anybody breathing down your neck.”

Man standing on a rock at the beach

Sunrise in Odesa

I spent the weekend frantically googling lesson plans and ideas. The two-day seminar on teaching at the orientation did not prepare me for this! I strung together a semi-coherent lesson plan and walked into the classroom on Monday not knowing what to expect. When I asked the history professors about the level of the students’ English, they laughingly replied, “not great.” The classroom had about 20 students of mixed levels. Some could not understand or speak English, some were advanced, and most were somewhere in the middle. The class went better than expected, but I knew I needed help. I pulled aside one of the advanced students, and to my pleasant surprise, it turned out she used to be an English teacher. With her help, I learned how to write lesson plans centered around fun and engaging activities such as “guess the lyrics” or video comprehension. Although the numbers dwindled throughout the semester because my class was optional, I found a core group of students who were motivated and saw a dramatic increase in their English proficiency over the next seven months.

Once I figured out how to teach, I turned my attention to “what should I do outside of the university?” As if she read my thoughts, a Ukrainian Fulbright alumna messaged me on Facebook to introduce herself and mentioned that she had an English school for lawyers and would love to have me. Two or three times a week I would spend evenings there talking to her students about topics from education in the U.S. to holiday traditions. It was refreshing to be surrounded by people who genuinely wanted to learn English as opposed to many of the university students who only studied English to pass the exit exam for graduation.

But Fulbright is not completely about working; it is about cultural exchange and immersion. With eight other ETAs across Ukraine, we took the opportunity to travel as much as possible. From the beaches of Odesa, to the baroque and Renaissance inspired architecture of Lviv, I immersed myself in Ukraine. There are numerous stories I could write about, but I’ll leave it off with my last trip in March before COVID changed our lives. My Ukrainian friend, who had never been west of Kyiv, and I jumped on a train to western Ukraine to visit some of my Fulbright friends and do some sightseeing for the weekend of March 6th. We did the normal things while traveling: ate good food and saw some cool sights. But we also did some extraordinary things: one day we were visiting a Soviet prison in Ternopil and heard the experiences from a man who spent eight years in that small prison cell, and the next night we were drinking wine on the shores of the Dnipro river in Kyiv.

Students cooking

Making Vareniki and Borscht in Lviv

In the words of the late Fulbright director in Ukraine: “you need to have patience and a sense of humor here.” Those words could not be truer. Living in another country, even if its government sponsored, requires one to be flexible and adaptable. Most of the time things will not go how you planned or imagined, but if you just go with it and enjoy the process, you may just have the best experience of your life.

Learning Russian at a U.S. Based Summer Language Program

By Steven Kenworthy, MA student in Slavic and East European studies and public policy

My name is Steven Kenworthy and I’m a grad student striving to complete a dual master’s degree in two years. Being in a unique situation where I would need to achieve 4 years of Russian knowledge within this 24-month window, I knew that my summers would be spent in immersive language programs. As much as I would love to have spent both in Eastern Europe, I knew that it was an unlikely option with a wife and two pets back in Columbus.

On top of that, we were down to a single income, which doesn’t exactly promote overseas study. I wasn’t aware as to whether or not I would receive a fellowship or scholarship for the summer, so I opted for the affordable route. I would enroll at Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana.

Like any other course, I had heard mixed reviews from classmates on the “Indiana Experience”. Some said it was challenging, some easy, some said they loved it. I got a variety blend of the typical reactions. Me being an optimist, I assumed the best and took my positive hopes to Bloomington in late May.

Our nine-week course took off out of the gates, not speaking a dribble of English from day one. Mind you, this was Russian two. We were relatively new to the language and probably weren’t quite ready for this just yet. Okay, we were overwhelmed. Thankfully my class consisted of four other Buckeyes who beside me ground through the first couple of adjustment weeks.

I’d be lying if I said it was a smooth ride at the outset. It was uncomfortable. There were times when all five of us were completely lost. There were moments of defeat. There were days when we felt like we might never get caught up. But we did.

By week three or four, I felt more comfortable. I was beginning to understand everything the professors were saying and my Russian was coming along. It was finally slowing down for me. Not only were my language skills evolving, but rather quickly I might say. Of course, I’m still far from my goal of buttery-smooth fluency, but hey – you have to start somewhere.

To think that I struggled to say where I was from in the first days makes me laugh. To go from that hopeless state to being able to carry on basic conversations for upwards of 15 or 20 minutes is pretty remarkable. I’m nobody special either. My classmates achieved similar results and I think we were all pretty overwhelmed by the amount of content we’d absorbed in our brief time in Bloomington.

By the end of the semester I felt a sense of relief, accomplishment, surprise even. Through the discomfort of week one, to the finish line in week nine, I’d come quite far. Not only did I accumulate a year’s worth of Russian in just over two months, but I grew as a person as well. Sometimes we have to accept the lumps of discomfort to grow.

At Indiana, I not only got to learn a beautiful language, but I proved to myself that I can overcome my own doubt in the face of adversity.

Learning Russian in Kazakhstan

By Brenden Wood, MA student in Slavic and East European Studies

Bright blue lake between mountain peaks

Big Almaty Lake

When I told people that I was going to Kazakhstan this summer on a fellowship to study Russian, I got funny looks and funnier attempts at saying “Kazakhstan.” Most people would just take a gander at the spelling or think through the pronunciation, and instead ask why was I not going to Russia, since I was going to study Russian. I was never really sure how to respond. I had a hard time putting my finger on “why Kazakhstan to study Russian?”

Upon arriving, my question was soon answered by my host-mother, who said it was “because Kazakhs speak the best Russian.” I admit that I scoffed at this, and I’m sure that there are a few people north of Kazakhstan who would as well. Full of answers as always, she, with the help of her son, gave me a very interesting answer, one now that I do not dismiss as the mere words of a woman who is proud of her country.

Kazakhstan is a multilingual land. Generalization is never good, but I would hazard that almost all Kazakhs speak Kazakh and Russian, obviously with varying degrees of proficiency. That being said, Kazakhs typically spoke Kazakh with each other at home, although they often spoke on the streets in Kazakh as well. That isn’t to say that Kazakhs don’t speak Russian at home, but it seemed from my experience, along with what I gathered from others in my two months there, that most Kazakhs spoke Kazakh at home. However, there still remains a large population of ethnic Russians, and Kazakhs make up a relatively narrow majority in their own country, accounting for roughly 10 million of the 18 million citizens. Don’t forget the Soviet legacy either, where Russian was, and still is, the language of official and business communication. Knowledge of Russian, if you want mobility and opportunity, is essential, and is a bone of contention as Kazakhstan works to define itself in Central Asia and the post-Soviet space.

Rolling mountains with grass and trees with a bright blue sky and clouds

Medeu

Not following where they were going, my host brother clarified for me quite well here. He said that since Russian is the language of official communication, Kazakhs speak Russian almost exclusively in formal settings, meaning that they speak less colloquially, using Russian primarily only in circumstances that demand proper grammar. Therefore, your average Kazakh speaks Russian correctly and articulately, better, my host family thought, than your average Russian.

A lake bordered by mountain slopes

Lake Kolsay

This obviously is an opinion, but it nevertheless made me pause to think, and, I shall admit, that I don’t necessarily disagree. Granted I was only there for two months, living in Almaty, where official language is much more prevalent than in the countryside. They did not contend that Kazakhs produce better literature or art with the Russian language, and they spoke strictly from a communicative point of view: for a foreigner or a native speaker, Kazakhs are easier to understand. It was a thought provoking conversation, and one in which I am glad that I had the opportunity to engage. It made me think a little deeper about travelling to a country to study a foreign language that is a foreign language there, even though the people speak it as if it is their native tongue.

Learning Russian in Central Asia: Hayden Hayes Explores Kyrgyzstan

By Hayden Hayes, undergraduate student majoring in International Studies and Russian

The decision to study abroad in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan was one of the most important decisions of my life and it was made possible by the Foreign Language and Area Studies (FLAS) fellowship that I received for the summer of 2017.  It was my first time leaving the country, as well as flying, and I did not know what to expect.  Many of my friends and family had never heard of the Central Asian country I was traveling to and wondered why I had chosen Bishkek to enhance my Russian language skills, rather than Moscow or St. Petersburg.  Prior to departure for my 30 hours of travel, I began to ask myself these same questions.  However, upon arrival in Bishkek I realized why Kyrgyzstan was the perfect place to study Russian.

Downtown Bishkek

After settling in with my host family, I began my intensive study of Russian at the London School of Languages and Cultures located in central Bishkek.  My weekly schedule usually consisted of 20 hours of class every week, with lessons specializing in grammar, writing, reading, and conversation.  In addition, we participated in individualized tutor  sessions and excursions to cultural destinations on a weekly basis.  Each class session was entirely in Russian, which was coupled with the complete immersion of living with a host family.  This immersion in the language at all times contributed toward a rapid development in my language skills.

While in Bishkek, I lived in an apartment building from the Soviet era on the outskirts of the city with a Kyrgyz family, which spoke both Russian and Kyrgyz.  My host family was definitely a rewarding part of the trip, as they were eager to help me practice the correct pronunciation of new words and discuss the news of both Kyrgyzstan and the United States.  One of my favorite memories will be the long conversations that took place with my host dad after dinner about various topics of politics, culture, and life.  Some of the most interesting talks centered around the upcoming Presidential elections in Kyrgyzstan, as well as the nostalgia for the Soviet past that is shared among the many members of the older generation in the country that lived during the Soviet era.

Ala Archa National Park

During my time there, I noticed that most individuals in Bishkek speak both languages, but some of the people I met spoke only Russian.  The appearance of Russian in Bishkek is due to the migration of Russian speakers to the area during the Soviet era, however, in recent years there has been a push to focus more on Kyrgyz language education in schools, as well as the implementation of a Kyrgyz proficiency requirement for possible Presidential candidates in the Kyrgyz Republic.

Part of the reason that I chose to study in Bishkek was due to the fact that there are fewer English speakers in the city

My host family did not speak English, which forced me to learn the language at an even faster pace.  In conjunction with this, my daily twenty-five minute commute by marshrutka (local shuttle vans) also forced me to use the language in a colloquial context as I communicated with fellow passengers.  The minimal amount of English speakers in Bishkek proved vital as it forced me to improve my weakest language area: speaking.  Prior to the program, I found myself being able to understand the grammatical concepts of the language, but having a difficult time expressing my thoughts in spoken language.

Fairy Tale Canyon

After completing the program, I found that my speaking and listening abilities greatly improved as I can now hold substantial conversations on everyday topics.  Part of this was due to being constantly immersed in Russian everywhere I went in Bishkek, but the most beneficial part of the program were the Language Partner sessions that were organized through the London School.  These two-hour peer tutoring sessions took place three times a week after classes.  During these sessions, we would meet with a local student and explore the city together while only speaking Russian.  These activities greatly improved my speaking ability and provided an insight into the cultural and political views of my generation in a country 7,500 miles away from home.

Now that the program is finished and I have returned to Ohio after my two-months in Bishkek, I plan to continue studying advanced-level Russian at Ohio State and hope to improve my language skills even more while at home.  In addition to this, I plan to study more about the politics and culture of the area as it is truly fascinating.  I hope that I can return to this country someday and once again enjoy its beautiful landscape and the hospitality of its people.

 

Justin Ciucevich’s Romanian and Moldovan Adventure

*We are republishing this post from autumn 2016 on an older blog that CSEES maintained on its website.

Justin Ciucevich is an MA student at the Center for Slavic and East European Studies. He received a 2016 summer FLAS fellowship to learn Romanian. He spent the summer in Moldova and Romania, strengthening his language skills and conducting research for his MA thesis. Read his story below!

A man wearing sunglasses standing next to a large tombstone

Justin Ciucevich

“I was fortunate enough to spend the summer of 2016 improving my Romanian language skills in Chișinău, Moldova. I was afforded this opportunity thanks to funding from the Foreign Language Area Studies fellowship and the Center for Slavic and East European Studies (CSEES) at the Ohio State University. I took part in the Eurasian Regional Language Program (ERLP) offered by the American Councils – a government organization which provides opportunities for (among other things) crucial language training. I can honestly say that my summer in Moldova was among the most enjoyable and intellectually fruitful experiences of my life.

Though I had initially hoped to hone my Romanian language skills through a program in Romania, upon my arrival, I quickly became quite enamored with Moldova. As it was my first time to visit (much less live in) a former Soviet republic, which is also the poorest country in Europe, some culture shock was inevitable. As an ardent scholar of Romanian and, by extension, Moldovan history, I knew that nearly fifty years under Soviet administration (as well as just over a century under Imperial Russian rule prior to World War I) had left a mark on the country from which it was still recovering. While this fact was disconcerting in some ways, it also allowed for me to experience a radically different culture from my own.

I had the benefit of staying with a Moldovan host-family, the Buciuceanu’s. Neither my host-father, Ion, nor my host-mother, Nina, spoke any English – only Romanian and Russian, which presented a wonderful and necessary opportunity for me to only speak in Romanian. In my experience, being forced to speak the target language was essential for gaining proficiency. Despite obvious and expected miscommunications, my host-family spared no effort in assuring that all my needs were met and truly took me in as a son. I was also privileged to have two wonderful instructors who not only dilligently helped me to hone my language skills but also took me on some amazing excursions to the medieval fortress of Soroca, the monasteries of Orheiul Vechi and Curchi, the house of renowned architect Alexie Șciusev, and more.

I also made some very good friends who made my visit all the more enjoyable. I grew close to a girl named Liliana, who was very enthusiastic to show me as much of Chișinău’s culture and social life as possible. My many hours of conversation with her and my other new friends over glasses of Moldovan wine and authentic native cuisine at La Placinte contributed to my increased language proficiency greatly and provided a forum for me to practice what I learned each day in the classroom environment. I would not trade their companionship or assistance in learning the Romanian language and adjusting to Moldovan life for anything.

A town on the shores of a lake

Upon completing the language program Chișinău, I made the bittersweet train-ride across the border to Romania. Part of my funding from the CSEES allowed me to put my heightened command of the language to good use in Romania as I conducted research in preparation for my upcoming MA Thesis. My short stay in Romania could warrant many more pages of reflection but I will conclude by saying that my stay in Moldova and Romania was well-worth any culture shock, discomfort, or hardship that arose. This past summer was not my first time to study abroad but it certainly served as the most enlightening adventure of my life. As I plan on returning to Moldova and Romania as soon as possible to continue honing the language and conducting research, I hope that my experience will persuade anyone reading this to pursue studying abroad – no matter what the objective may be.”

Between Pittsburgh and Podgorica: Jon Harris’ Intensive Study of BCS

Jon Harris is an MA student at the Center for Slavic and East European Studies. He recieved a 2016 summer FLAS fellowship to learn Bosnian-Serbian-Croatian (BCS). He spent the summer between the University of Pittsburgh’s Summer Language Institute (SLI) and the University of Donja Gorica (UDG) in Podgorica, Montenegro, improving his language skills and experiencing the culture of each place. 

Seven students sitting on a stone embankments with a tower in the bacground

Mount Lovcen

“I participated in an intensive ten-week course at the University of Pittsburgh’s Summer Language Institute (SLI), which is renowned for offering critical and less commonly taught languages. One of the many strengths of this particular program is that language courses are offered in a hybrid format, which allows students to combine six weeks of domestic study at the Pitt campus with an optional four-week study abroad component. As such, my time was split between the University of Pittsburgh and the University of Donja Gorica (UDG) in Podgorica, Montenegro.

The structure of this program was highly beneficial in that I completed one academic year’s worth of language training at Pitt prior to departing for Podgorica. Therefore, when I arrived in Montenegro, I was able to converse with a greater degree of fluency across a wider range of topics. This truly allowed for me to make the most of my time spent abroad.

As a person from the Buckeye State, I had been conditioned to scowl at the sight of black, yellow, and all things pertaining to Pittsburgh. However, after putting aside deep-seated sports rivalries, I began to fall in love with the Steel City. Pittsburgh is nothing if not beautiful; situated in the foothills of the Allegheny Mountains, there is no shortage of breathtaking vantage points to take in the best views of the city’s forests and rivers.

Stack of different books

BCS textbooks

Despite the urban setting of the University of Pittsburgh, there are plenty of green spaces for recreation and relaxation between classes. The crowning gem of the Pitt campus is, unmistakably, the Cathedral of Learning, a Late Gothic Revival cathedral standing at 535 feet. Every morning for six weeks, I attended classes in the basement of this iconic, towering edifice. Upon entering the threshold of the building, the intellectual atmosphere permeating the Cathedral of Learning becomes instantly palpable, as if one is carrying the torch of an academic tradition larger than him or herself. The Cathedral is also home to the widely known Nationality Rooms in which artifacts from 30 different nationalities are continually on display.

In addition to 180 hours of classroom instruction, SLI provided ample opportunities for language learning in informal social settings. Pizza Tuesdays, Lunch with the Instructors Thursdays, and Film Fridays allotted time for students to practice their respective target languages in a fun, carefree manner. At the end of each week, all SLI students would congregate for Language Happy Hour, a weekly picnic hosted by students and instructors of the various language groups. The South Slavic language group, represented by students of BCS and Bulgarian, prepared traditional food and drink for the event in addition to performing songs and dances.

A bright green boat off of a dock in a lake that is reflecting the surrounding mountains and trees

Black lake in National Park Durmitor

Studying BCS—or any Slavic language, for that matter—in Pittsburgh is particularly beneficial. Owing largely to the legacy of the early U.S. steel industry, the Slavic communities within Pittsburgh are strikingly visible. For the duration of my stay in Pittsburgh, I resided in the picturesque Polish Hill, a thriving neighborhood replete with Polish delis and a Catholic church. I ate ćevapi, somun, and ajvar at the Bosnian markets; I attended an all-Croatian mass at St. Nicholas Catholic Church; and I even heard a sermon in Russian at the Дом молитвы для всех. Upon becoming a member of the Carnegie Public Library, I had a seemingly infinite reserve of BCS grammar textbooks at my disposal. For these reasons, the initial six weeks spent in Pittsburgh prepared me exceedingly well for the transition to Podgorica.

In my experience, academic and otherwise, Montenegro is often overshadowed by her Balkan brothers of Bosnia, Croatia, and Serbia. When I arrived in Podgorica, the capital of this small, mountainous country, the air bustled with patriotic fervor in both celebration of ten years of national independence and the 2016 Rio Olympic Games. Prior to studying abroad in Montenegro, I had never heard anybody, personally, refer to their mother tongue as crnogorski (Montenegrin). The unique Serbo-Croatian dialects spoken in Montenegro were traditionally referred to as Serbian; however, in the wake of national independence, the Montenegrin variant is becoming more and more standardized. As a student of the Balkans, this was exciting to witness firsthand.

For four weeks, I studied BCS with six other students from Pitt at UDG, the largest private university in Montenegro. Because I was the only advanced-level student, UDG provided me with one-on-one tutoring sessions prior to our normal classes. This month-long course emphasized practical BCS, which was particularly useful for navigating daily interactions at restaurants, stores, and on the streets.

Wide green valley

View from Tara Bridge in Zabljak

Language instruction and cultural lessons took place not only within the classroom but also outdoors. Our instructor devised a curriculum that incorporated weekly excursions to the awe-inspiring national parks of Montenegro. We climbed the 461 steps of Mount Lovćen to visit the Mausoleum of Petar II Petrović-Njegoš, the final resting place of the most revered Montenegrin writer and national hero. We spent an entire afternoon hiking around the turquoise glacial lakes of National Park Durmitor. Traveling along the Montenegrin Adriatic coast, we visited the exceptionally beautiful towns of Budva, Kotor, Perast, and Tivat. In Virpazar, we beheld the ancient ramparts of the Besac Fortress, which was built by Ottoman Turks at the end of the 15th century. Montenegro truly offers some of the most memorable landscapes in the world, too numerous to list here.

In both Pittsburgh and Podgorica, I dramatically improved my mastery of BCS, acquired new experiences, and made personal and professional connections that will last me a lifetime. I was so impacted by my time spent overseas that I am currently applying for career opportunities in Montenegro. As such, I wholeheartedly recommend Pitt’s SLI program, which offers approximately ten Slavic languages annually, to all future FLAS applicants.”

Will Bezbatchenko’s Path to Central Asia

Will Bezbatchenko is a 2016 dual graduate of the Center for Slavic and East European Studies and the John Glenn College of Public Affairs. He is currently living and working in Tokmok, Kyrgyzstan as an English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Fulbright. 

A wide city street with vehicles on it with snowcapped mountains in the background

Will’s view on his way to work

An acquaintance once told me that you’re either born into a professional interest or you fall into it. In my case, it is a blend of both. My path to my work and studies of Central Asia was long and winding but I have found an area of the world I love to study, live, and work in. Growing up in Akron, Ohio, my family and I attended a Russian Orthodox Church. It was there that I was introduced to Russian culture through the foods we ate at holidays, and the church’s balalaika and folk dance groups. These experiences were very important when I decided to study Russian at the college level, seeing a Russian major as an opportunity to advance my career interests and learn more about my family’s background.

Initially enrolling at a different university, I transferred to The Ohio State University as an undergraduate student, first studying economics. After quickly learning that this area was not at the core of my interests, I decided to begin studying Russian and International Studies. By the time I was able to start studying Russian, however, I was already in my third year of college. Wanting to graduate with a Russian major, I studied abroad the next two summers to complete the equivalent of four years of in-class Russian instruction, traveling to Moscow and St. Petersburg in the summers of 2011 and 2012, respectively. These experiences gave me a wanderlust and since spending that first summer in Moscow, I have tried to leave the United States at least once per year.

A blue lake between mountains

Kul Tor

Graduate School at The Ohio State University

After I graduated from Ohio State in the spring of 2013, I wanted to continue my Russian studies, and saw an opportunity with Ohio State’s Center for Slavic and East European Studies. Not only was the program multidisciplinary, I was also able to complete a second at Ohio State’s John Glenn College of Public Affairs in three years rather than four through the Center and College’s dual-degree program. A combination that has prepared me for international work and (hopefully) a career in the United States State Department.

Having decided to enroll immediately after completing my undergraduate degree, I started the Slavic Studies and Public Administration programs in the fall of 2013. While it is not a requirement, it is highly recommended that students at the Slavic Center have knowledge of two or more languages before graduation. In high school I studied five years of Spanish (a language in Romantic language family), followed that with Russian (a Slavic), and wanted to study a Turkic language. Initially, I planned to study Turkish, but at the insistence of former Slavic Center Director Yana Hashamova, instead enrolled in Uzbek. At the time, I knew very little about Uzbekistan and Central Asia, but immediately became enamored by its diverse history, Imperial and Soviet Russian influences, and the countries’ divergent paths since independence.

A brigtly light blue and red stage with dancers

Cholpon Baller

Encouraged to apply to internships for the summer between my first and second years of graduate school, I applied for an internship with the US State Department in Uzbekistan. Correctly assuming I would be the only student applying with knowledge of Uzbek, I was offered an internship position in the political/economic section of the US Embassy in Tashkent. I accepted and spent the summer of 2014 in Tashkent, traveling throughout the country on my weekends. Not only did this experience further inform me about my future profession, it also exposed me to the region’s interconnectivity and the political problems that arise when infrastructure and communication paths meander between sovereign nations.

Fulbright

Unfortunately, the ETA grant is not offered in Uzbekistan, so I turned to the countries surrounding the nation when I applied for an English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Fulbright Grant. I cannot isolate one reason for why I applied to Kyrgyzstan, but my knowledge of the country’s development of electrical power dams that could have a negative effect on downstream communities in Uzbekistan, my thesis advisor’s research work in the country, and an interest in Kyrgyzstan’s nomadic and Sufi mysticism history all contributed. Obviously, I was awarded the grant and arrived in Bishkek in August, 2016.

A tall tower in the middle of a flat valley with mountains in the background

Burana Tower

Upon arrival, I moved to a small city on the border of Kazakhstan named Tokmok. Located about one hour away from Bishkek, I teach English at the International University of Central Asia, a private university founded in 2008. In addition to teaching, I have started an English conversation club at the university, and traveled to Bishkek, Cholpon-Ata, and other smaller cities to learn and experience Kyrgyz culture. Kyrgyz people (and especially my students) have been incredibly friendly and helpful, and the country as a whole has been extremely comfortable to live in. I have already been able to attend the World Nomad Games, a concert of traditional Kyrgyz and Central Asian music, and a Kyrgyz ballet. Needless to say, I have thoroughly enjoyed my experience in the region, and look forward to my remaining time in this beautiful country.

Learn more about Will’s work and travel in Kyrgyzstan on his blog

Amelia Smith practices Russian in Bishkek

Amelia Smith is a fourth year undergraduate student at The Ohio State University, studying Russian and French. She received a FLAS fellowship for the summer of 2016, which allowed her to spend the summer studying Russian language in Kyrgyzstan through Arizona State University’s CLI program for third-year Russian language. Below she reflects on her time in Kyrgyzstan.

Woman sitting on a rock ledge with a valley and streams below, her back to the camera

Amelia in Kyrgyzstan

“The people in Kyrgyzstan are more than enthusiastic to see someone from an English-speaking country, especially one who has mothered to learn some Russian or Kyrgyz. English is a language of opportunity for them, but surprisingly, almost no one is able to speak it (except for grade schoolers, for whom learning English has become more important in recent years). It forced me to actually speak Russian for most of the day, which was terrifying at first. As the weeks went on, however, I got used to the idea that I would make mistakes; people would know I was a foreigner, and that I should always keep my eyes and ears open for chances to improve. Coming back to the U.S. and entering fourth-year Russian, I actually feel comfortable at this level and quite prepared for our coursework.

The London School in Bishkek was the hub of our activities. About thirty or forty of us students, mostly from Arizona, studied for five hours for four days a week. Three times a week, we would then have a two-hour excursion into the city with Kyrgyz teenagers and speak solely in Russian. It gave me a chance to see the city and culture and, frankly, leave my comfort zone by choosing places that I would like to visit. All of the tutors and teachers I had were friendly and sweet, even if a few of them were a little intimidating.

My host family was also better than I had dared to hope. A single mother and her young son and daughter, they gave me the largest bedroom, the most food, and any other accommodations I wanted as the weeks progressed. At the end of Ramadan, they took me with them to partake in feasting that involved a lot of noodles and an entire sheep’s head on the table. Kyrgyz cuisine involves a lot of Uzbek, Russian, and Mongolian foods. I really enjoyed everything, except for shoro (a popular cold drink) and kumiss (fermented horse milk). On my birthday, my host mom bought me flowers, a cake, and some champagne (I turned 21) and celebrated with me. They were very sweet and intelligent people, willing to work with me through my lack of Russian knowledge.

Five people sitting together on a couch

Amelia with her host family

On three or four occasions, we had excursions through the London School to other parts of Kyrgyzstan. This may have been my favorite part of my time spent there. We visited the lake Issyk-Kul, one of the cleanest and highest-elevation lakes in the world. We went hiking to see waterfalls and canyons, rode horses in the mountains with a local family, and even visited Kazakhstan for a weekend to see Almaty. At these times, I was thrilled to be in Kyrgyzstan and be part of a culture that most Americans will never get to see.

The only complaints I had about the trip were simply cultural differences that took some getting used to, such as the European floor toilets, the uncomfortable marshrutka rides (the fixed-route taxi), the heat and lack of air conditioning, the air quality in Bishkek itself (there is a lot of traffic), and the water quality (we bought water bottles to drink from, as the tap water was unsafe). But again, these were all easily overcome with a little open-mindedness and patience. I made several American and Kyrgyz friends that I’m still in contact with now, too! This trip helped me grow as an individual, and I couldn’t be more thankful for this very special chance to see a hidden corner of the world and live in a different linguistic sphere.”

A field with large boulders, a stream running across, and bright blue sky in the background

Kyrgyzstan