• I saw some cool photos of you on Instagram, I see you were in America, were you on vacation?

• Yes, through the Work and Travel USA program.

• Mmm... I see!

That is roughly how conversations end after people hear about the Work and Travel USA program. And today I want to dispel the myth and break the stereotype of Kazakhs as migrant workers.

Everyone knows this successful, most interesting student program of the US Department of State, Work and Travel USA, which has been on the market since 1989. There are also many companies that facilitate this program. But I won't go far; I will tell you about the example of my favorite International Exchange Center, of which I am a participant and volunteer. When choosing an organization, I pay attention to how long it has been in existence, its service, and the reviews of the student participants themselves. And when I heard that the International Exchange Center has been on the market for 25 years and has branches in all countries and cities of Kazakhstan, I immediately realized the seriousness and responsibility of its activities. Today, unfortunately, there are many fictitious organizations that open and close, working for a day or two, while deceiving students, taking their money—in a word, scammers. I am writing all this to fit 3 months of my summer happiness onto 3 small pages. Of course, my first step to America began with submitting documents and paying money, but that is just the beginning. After all, ahead, dear student, is the most important and scariest thing for everyone: the interview with the consul, the person who decides in one minute whether you will cross the border of that coveted country called the United States of America. The set date is a kind of anxiety, preparation, and countdown for you—just like the UNT. After all, you haven't forgotten how much anxiety and how many cups of coffee you drank, right?! My interview took place—I still remember that momentous day—on April 30th at 10:00 AM in the city of Astana. You stand in a large, live queue under the scorching sun with a stack of papers and documents, meeting future tourists just like you; you come across the same states or departure days, and you start writing down numbers in a notebook, all while trembling and thinking about that coveted stamp in your passport. Your turn comes, and you easily answer the most primitive questions like: "Hi! What is your name? Why do you want to go to America?" etc.

I cannot convey that feeling of joy and the soul's vibration, and that Cheshire Cat smile from Alice in Wonderland, when a small stamp hits your passport with a huge roar in your eardrums. This is my summer, the most unforgettable one, full of meetings, surprises, and unexpected events. The first stage is successfully passed, and you are already in line at passport control at the airport in sneakers, jeans, a cap, with a backpack and nothing more, like a real tourist who has watched the Discovery channel. And behind you stands your mom with a handkerchief, friends with posters, each of whom has already ordered a bunch of iPhones, Victoria's Secret clothes, perfume, Jordan sneakers, and a bunch of other little things.

"Dear passengers, please fasten your seatbelts. We are taking off!" And then you feel that there is no turning back; you are leaving your Homeland and flying into free swimming. That is when adult, independent life begins. Landing successfully after a ten-hour flight, you cannot realize that you have finally stepped onto the land of the country you saw in pictures and watched on TV. Leaving the airport, before your eyes is a huge crowd of people, and they are all different—different religions, skin colors, languages. It is some kind of mix, a hurricane of information flowing around you. These ground trains, yellow taxis, skyscrapers that block the sky so you only see its reflection in the glass and mirrors, these traffic jams, people rushing somewhere with a Starbucks cup in their hands, these huge billboards, screens, costumed, bright actors or vagabonds who earn their living and at the same time color the gray weekdays of the city, which almost never happen. This is New York—the city that never sleeps, from that Alicia Keys & Jay-Z song "Empire State of Mind." The day passes so quickly that you don't have time to photograph and capture, at least mentally, those moments, buildings, and people that you want to show your parents and friends later. There is no time to sleep; the hours go by, because you already have a ticket in your pocket to another state, to the place that will be connected to you for 3 unforgettable months. I walk down the street with a map in my hands, buy a subway ticket, go to Brooklyn to see Manhattan from the side and sing the song "And I would like to live in Manhattan and share secrets with Demi Moore..."... My home, work, friends, parties—all this will start from the state of Maine (main destination). Yes, I worked like all exchange students from all over the world in the service sector at two jobs from morning to night, because I needed to save money for travel and for all those gifts that my Kazakhstani friends ordered. It's cool to be young, because no matter how much you work and get tired, you are still full of energy and enthusiasm for adventures and bright memories. Returning home after work, you know that on the next street, in the next house, or maybe even in yours, there is some kind of party (like from the movie Project X) with a bunch of strangers, loud music, a disco, a huge pool into which you are thrown on a bet or just as a game. You know, after these parties, you involuntarily forget about your temporary workdays, smoothing out that feeling of melancholy and missing your parents, because you are enjoying the here and now; there is simply no time to think, miss them, let alone sit on these social networks—you cherish every minute that you don't want to lose. It happened that you were sleeping and they would take you right out of bed in your pajamas to birthdays, spontaneous gatherings, etc. Most of all, I am happy about my roommates, with whom I lived together. These are 3 girls from Turkey, one Romanian, and my friend Dilarochka (without whom I cannot imagine my trip). These are the people with whom we shared bread, celebrated birthdays, cooked food, cleaned the house, cried together, laughed, took selfies, and most importantly, learned English. After all, none of us understood the official languages of this or that place of residence, and what connected us then was our beloved English, which I now possess without difficulty or hesitation. That is the PLUS of the Work and Travel USA program; no courses or Olympiads can compare with the invaluable experience I gained in America. You simply go to the movies, order food, work—your entire environment is connected to this language, and how can you not learn it? You simply have no choice; you don't even notice how you start speaking English. Upon arriving in Kazakhstan, I even had American phrases, words, and expressions popping out. Most of all, I cannot convey in words or describe with emotions that state of soul when you sing along to Justin Timberlake at his concert. Yes, this is not a dream! This is real, live sound, a large-scale concert of "The 20/20 Experience" by the most famous, talented singer of our time. 4 hours in 2 acts simply blew up the hall. He is the idol of every girl, the favorite of female hearts. And even though I was on the balcony and my ticket cost a crazy amount of money, it is priceless with that energy, with that huge number of fans rocking the hall. Perhaps you think that I barely saw him, but just heard him, but you are mistaken. Due to new technologies, the stage on which the world-class Star sang rose, spun, and sparkled as if it were walking all over the hall (I have proof on Instagram aigerim_burambayeva), and every one of the 20,000 people could see him, and that is the very moment when your idol is one meter away from you, almost within reach. And I am that very ordinary girl from Kazakhstan, from the simple province of Aktobe, who watched concerts and music videos only on TV and the Internet, could not believe my eyes; I didn't even think that I would end up THERE, on the other side of the blue screen, beyond that ocean, on a completely different Earth. And there were 2 such concerts during the American summer, and concerts by pop diva Rihanna and the white king of black rap Eminem remained in my memory with the same emotions and huge reviews, but I was also lucky enough to hear a couple of tracks as a guest by Jay-Z. I also cannot hide one story from the kitchen. For the first time in my life, we cooked lobsters ourselves. Lobsters (now crabs) are the national symbol (food) of the state of Maine. It costs only $10-15. They are cooked alive in a pot (like a steamer) for 9-10 minutes. From black, it turns red, like in the photo below. Then it is served on a plate, and you dissect it: legs, arms, tear off the antennae, separate the head from the torso, and pull the meat out of the skeleton. It tastes very delicate, soft, like crab sticks, but much better...

Fortunately, I am a good driver, and even more fortunately, our Kazakhstani driver's licenses are valid in the States, which means that my friend and I rented a car and went on that long-awaited trip after 3 months of diligent work. And our travels became much more large-scale and comfortable. I think every tourist is obliged to visit the capital of this or that country, and Washington is no exception. Having visited the administrative city with its history and original spirit, waving from afar to Mr. Obama, saying hello to the huge Mr. Lincoln, taking pictures in those museums from the movie "Night at the Museum," we did not linger for long, so as not to disturb the white collars, and hurried to the next destinations. Having been in noisy, dusty megacities, we wanted nature, silence, and fresh air. Seeing a real waterfall is a pleasure, and seeing the famous Niagara Falls is pure bliss! America is a country not only of skyscrapers but also of amazing nature. Niagara Falls is the most powerful in North America, located right on the border with Canada. You can even say that we saw Canada with one eye, of course, but very closely. In the evening, a pleasant surprise awaited us. As we know, the indigenous people of America are Indians, and the discoverers of Niagara Falls are also Indians. They prepared a huge show of songs, dances, and shamanic rituals of their time for us. You seem to dissolve into the abyss of ancient centuries; it is a very beautiful performance with colorful costumes. Having said goodbye to the Indians, we went to Boston. This city is remembered for its endless yachts, the huge Quincy Market shopping center, and also, as students, it was very interesting for us to see Harvard University with our own eyes. On the way to New York, we stopped at a Russian supermarket, where, having missed our normal food very much, we bought pies, manti, kefir, and like little hungry children with such love for our Land, we immediately gobbled up everything that was in the bags. We had to return to NYC, because there were only a few days left before the flight, and we needed to see the main city, the capital of the world. The most unforgettable thing was to climb to the top of the Empire State Building during the day and raise our Kazakhstani flag (although it was forbidden). Having been a little "creative," at night we already climbed another skyscraper, Top of the Rock. Other attractions of New York were not left without attention, such as the Statue of Liberty, Times Square, 5th Avenue, Madame Tussauds, etc... To conclude my blog, I would like to say that when I got back on the plane, looking out the porthole and wiping tears from my eyes, my fingers were already writing this article, because I kept a diary all summer.