When I decided to have two children on my own, I was crystal clear about needing to do that in a village. At the time, I was living in Bogota, Colombia and had spent two-and-a-half years building a village before I had to call on its magic to help me bring a child, and then a second, into the world. Nearly three years later, starting my life over in Almaty, this time as a single mother of two, the number one rule still applies–ask for help.
When I arrived last week from the band’s US tour, I started sending emails, writing down phone numbers, and making play dates. I wrote the moms in my apartment building and joined their afterwork playground get togethers, I joined the international women’s club play group and Friday night happy hours, and I started asking Santi’s Russian and Kazakh classmate’s parents to get together on the weekends. Almaty has a deep and wide community of parents, and although when my partner lived here, I didn’t need to draw on it much, in Kazakhstan 2.0, it has become my life line.
Anyone who comes to live in Almaty, with or without kids, with or without a partner raves about the single best reason to be here–the mountains. We bike them, hike them, and camp in them when it is warm and ski, snowboard, and sled down them when it is cold. I have fully committed to taking advantage of this last month of summer mountaineering and set out the call for help on Friday. I asked everyone I know–at work, in play groups, and at Santi’s school if they wanted to go on a hike today. I even asked single people to join me and then asked them if they would be willing to carry one of my kids on their back as we explored the 7200 foot Zaiilsky Alatau mountain range.
Four families met at the foot of the Medeo valley and took three gondola rides to the top. None of us were dressed for the cold weather. But we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to scramble to higher vistas. Half the group peeled off early on and I was only able to continue when two dads offered to wear my kids on their backs. The scrambling was too hard for my weak ankles just carrying my own weight. I couldn’t have made it with a 20 or 30 lb kiddo on my back. We almost made it to the top and the cacophony of Santi and Zadie’s wails convinced us all to set them down, have a midday feeding, and tip-toe our way back down.
I felt brave, resourceful, and happy each step of the way.
In fact, when we made it down the mountain and both kids were dead asleep in the car seats, I went to the local Sports-R-Us and got completely outfitted for camping.
I am looking for takers? Anyone want to car camp this weekend with me and a few remarkable kids?
Belonging Matters 