for college students by college students

ACROSS THE WORLD / ON THE COVER

Perry Teicher of West Bloomfield rides with Yan
during hippotherapy, horseback riding to help dis-
abled children, as part of his Peace Corp work.

Journey Of

Discovery

Detroiter's Peace Corps stint

connects him to distant Jews.

By Perry Teicher

Kazakhstan

I

remember hearing about Peace Corps
when I was younger, but it had always
seemed a far-away opportunity. During
my senior year at the University of
Michigan, when I needed to decide my next
steps after graduation, Peace Corps suddenly
became a realistic option.
Freshman year, I stood at the Michigan
Union, where President Kennedy gave his 2
a.m. speech that would lead to the formation
of the Peace Corps. Four years later, I joined
Peace Corps because I wanted the opportu-
nity to make a difference and to challenge
myself, to see if I could succeed in an envi-
ronment where I had no previous connection.
While I joined Peace Corps to move
beyond my comfort zone, my experience in
the Michigan Jewish community helped pro-
pel me to pursue this path. My involvement
with U-M Hillel and BBYO in high school
helped me develop an interest in social activ-
ism. The Jewish community is a model of
supporting those in need.
From a young age, we encourage students
to take responsibility for their actions and try
to instill the idea of tikkun olam (repairing
the world). Through community organization,

34

November 11 • 2010

After the Peace Corps, Teicher traveled Central Asia and the Caucuses. He is
in a synagogue in Krasnaya Sloboda, home to the Mountain Jews of Azerbijan.

the community provides a structure for those
who want to volunteer. As a leader in these
organizations, I saw the challenges involved
in building and sustaining community —
and the benefits of inspiring others to take
responsibility.
When I landed in Kazakhstan in August
2007 to begin my 27-month stint, I had no
idea how I would put these ideals into prac-
tice. Fortunately, Peace Corps placed me at
an organization where the director already
had a vision and had been working toward
it for more than 10 years. I was placed at a
local non-governmental organization (NGO),
the "Society for the Protection of Paralyzed
Citizens of Aktobe." Its vision was to foster
an environment where people with disabilities
could lead independent and mobile lives.
While this concept seems rudimentary, the
idea was revolutionary in the Former Soviet
Union. I had the opportunity to translate two
aspects of the director's vision into reality
— the construction of the first wheelchair
factory in Central Asia and the development
of a volunteer club in a society that had not
previously incubated volunteerism.
In addition to my work at the disability
organization and with students, I reached out
to the Jewish community in my city. We all

instinctively know that Jews are spread across
the world, but when we run into Jewish com-
munities in what feel like unlikely places, we
are still somewhat surprised.
I had read there were around 30,000
Jews across the country, the ninth largest by
area in the world. Given the physical size
of Kazakhstan, that's not too many Jewish
citizens. Most Jews are located in Almaty,
the former capital, and home of two Chabad
congregations. After three months of training
in a town near Almaty, I shipped off to a pro-
vincial capital — Aktobe — 43 hours by train
across the country.
I arrived when it was already winter. Night
fell at 6 p.m. and it didn't lift until 10 a.m.
That's a tough environment to move into,
especially when I had only just begun to
learn Russian.

Chanukah In Aktobe

Peace Corps had provided me information
about the Jewish community in Aktobe; and
I had exchanged a few phone calls in bro-
ken Russian with the one observant Jew in
Aktobe, Ya'akov. Chanukah was just around
the corner, so I was invited to the community
Chanukah dinner.

I was ushered to the middle of the table,
to an empty seat across from a woman who
spoke a little English. It was mainly an
older crowd, with one couple in their 30s
and a 12-year-old boy. The food was kosher,
although only Ya'akov kept kosher. There
was a Chanukiah, though without candles.
Later, the woman across from me began
to sing a few songs. She began with "Tum
Balalaika," then I jumped in with "Chanukah,
0 Chanukah," then we sang along with
"Yerushalayim Shel Zahay." Despite my
unmelodic voice, I think they still enjoyed the
American Chanukah song.
I later learned from a Jewish Book Day
celebration that more Jewish children live in
Aktobe. Many of these children, however,
are just warming up to their Jewish iden-
tity. Aktobe, only 30 kilometers from the
Russian border, was a destination point for
many nationalities during and after World
War II.
My connection with the Jewish community
deepened after this first dinner, but it was this
event that I most often recall. I still remember
the mushroom salads and kosher plouf (a
Central Asian rice dish). There was nothing
on the table we would consider traditional
Chanukah food in America. Everyone in