Visiting Baku is always a good break from life at site, and more often than not, more than a little surreal. This last trip just about took the cake, though. All of my year’s YD and CED volunteers came to Baku Thursday for our Early Service Training, an in-service training conference. It was weird, first of all, to see all the YDs again after four months. Some I’ve seen here and there over that time, but never at the same time. Peace Corps put us up in a hotel somewhat near to the Peace Corps office (though not as close as the map they gave us made it seem). Soft beds, normal-sized pillows, and a proper shower with good water pressure that never ran out of hot water. If that ain’t surreal, I don’t know what is.
The conference lasted all day Friday. While a nice chance to catch up and hear about others’ work, we were all glad when the day ended. We were finally free to take advantage of Baku, something we hadn’t been allowed to do during the weekend since March due to the occurrence of protests against the government in downtown Baku. And so we had another strange experience, eating Indian and Chinese food, relaxing at bars, being out at night. At the Chinese restaurant, we even had some fun with the karaoke machine.
The next day, I made arrangements for Easter. I would go, along with a few other volunteers, to a church service. I decided instead of paying for another night in Baku, which would cost money, to stay in Xirdalan with Rashad, my former LCF. He was working all day, so we spent the day wandering Baku, and happened upon a gelato shop, and a hidden ping pong/games den. Through the back of a shop, in a large former theatre, Narnia Ping Pong (our name) caters to those who want to play ping pong, air hockey, pool and some video games. A mural of the Marlboro man adorns one wall, and another wall bears an image of Samson breaking free of the pillars. We encountered an 80-year old man who beat everyone who played against him.
And so we come to Easter. I slipped out of Rashad’s house shortly after he’d gone off to work, and headed off, one bus ride and one five-stop metro ride, to meet the others at a bus stop near McDonald’s.
The church, Baku International Fellowship, is not itself a church, but meets in the auditorium of the Baku International School. This was the time that tipped the weekend over the edge. To enter the grounds, we had to pass through a security checkpoint, and upon entering the lobby, where there was coffee(!), I was stunned. Everywehre I looked, foreigners. Speaking English. I was happy to be at the service, even though it wasn’t entirely what I was hoping for. The music was a bit more in the contemporary music vein for my taste, though they did the Hallelujah chorus to end the service, and the sermon used a Powerpoint presentation, which seems off to me. There was nothing wrong with the service, just not always to my tastes or ideas of what church and Easter should usually be. (I made up for some of it by making Easter eggs when I got back to Ismayilli.)
Being at the school reminded me intensely and immediately of my time at Jakarta International School in Indonesia. My life now is very different from the life I led in Indonesia. The people at the church often did not know Azeri, and some had not traveled much in the regions. They shopped at supermarkets with foods imported from Europe and America. They live in modern buildings with air conditioning and central/good heating, with showers and washing machines, and indoor bathrooms with flushing toilets. This was the life I led in Indonesia for the most part. My school there offered opportunities to travel to the islands of Indonesia, to see and experience and learn about the cultures. But we didn’t live there. It was separate. We always had our comfortable homes in Jakarta to go back to in the end.
Is one lifestyle better than the other? Does one group help people and lead to better change than the other? Now that I’ve lived on both sides of the expat aid worker spectrum, I can’t help wondering. It is obvious that our lives are different, that life in Baku is very different from life in the regions. Knowing Baku is different from knowing Azerbaijan, but knowing the regions is also different from knowing Azerbaijan. The anthropologist in me believes it is important to learn the language to know a people, and to live amongst them. It’s in fact hard not to think that I know better than they do because of where I live and how I live. But is this really the best way to cause the change we say we want to inspire? Or is it better to work with the governments to enact that change in policy which will lead to new teaching supplies and techniques, new agricultural equipment, and so on? Probably, both are needed to make the world a better place. The grassroots and the governmental aide working together. But we don’t speak to each other about our work. They don’t ask for our opinions, and we don’t seek them out for help. Why is that? Why is there so little connection between the organizations? Is there some ideological rationale, or is this just the way it is? These questions are truly worth asking to determine whether or not we can actually change things, whether what we do here is worth doing. I just don't have the answers yet.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Being a Grown-Up: Cooking
Staring at the beginning of April, I began cooking for myself. It has not always been easy. Cooking three meals a day—three full meals with enough calories, nutrients, and vitamins—is difficult, I’ve found. For a while, my refrigerator was out of commission and I had to use my host family’s fridge or hope things wouldn’t go bad too quickly. This was mostly okay since it has been cold outside more often than not. Knowing it wouldn’t last, however, I buckled down and spent the money on a new power stabilizer. So now I have cold milk, frozen chicken, and spinach that doesn’t go bad in two days.
The downside to the cold climate that has been so persistent through the last month is that it means everyone’s using the gas for heat and cooking. I’ve had a couple cooking failures due to low gas. My first attempt at fried rice ended up in dried out rice because the heat took so long to cook everything.
I’ve had some successes as well. I splurged and bought the vegetables needed to cook a proper Mexican food feast. The required vegetables won’t be cheap for another month or so. But I wanted my fajitas, so I did it. And oh, was it worth it. I made refried beans the night before, then fajitas with chicken, bell peppers, onions, tomatoes, sour cream, cheese and lavash (basically tortillas).
I’ve gotten pretty good also at potatoes (though trying to make French fries was downright painful), noodles, lentils, and mixing all of the above together when need be. I also had success making rice and beans. It took awhile to get the protein levels up, but I’ve started buying sausage and chicken, so I’ve got something besides lentils now.
Thank goodness spring is coming, or I’d be in trouble. I worry about getting enough fruits and vegetables, and oranges are still expensive, but everything’s getting better. I’ve started to see eggplant, tomatoes and bell peppers. I’ve heard other places have seen strawberries, too. Winter will be painful, but for now, food is getting more exciting, more varied, and more delicious. I just need to learn how to cook an eggplant now.
The downside to the cold climate that has been so persistent through the last month is that it means everyone’s using the gas for heat and cooking. I’ve had a couple cooking failures due to low gas. My first attempt at fried rice ended up in dried out rice because the heat took so long to cook everything.
I’ve had some successes as well. I splurged and bought the vegetables needed to cook a proper Mexican food feast. The required vegetables won’t be cheap for another month or so. But I wanted my fajitas, so I did it. And oh, was it worth it. I made refried beans the night before, then fajitas with chicken, bell peppers, onions, tomatoes, sour cream, cheese and lavash (basically tortillas).
I’ve gotten pretty good also at potatoes (though trying to make French fries was downright painful), noodles, lentils, and mixing all of the above together when need be. I also had success making rice and beans. It took awhile to get the protein levels up, but I’ve started buying sausage and chicken, so I’ve got something besides lentils now.
Thank goodness spring is coming, or I’d be in trouble. I worry about getting enough fruits and vegetables, and oranges are still expensive, but everything’s getting better. I’ve started to see eggplant, tomatoes and bell peppers. I’ve heard other places have seen strawberries, too. Winter will be painful, but for now, food is getting more exciting, more varied, and more delicious. I just need to learn how to cook an eggplant now.
Getting Through With Laughs and News. Mostly Laughs, Though.
The life of a Peace Corps volunteer is not an easy one. I have been fortunate enough to have regular free Internet access, which has helped with contact with the outside world. But sometimes just having contact isn’t enough, and I must turn to certain websites for the pick me ups necessary to get through the day. As that comes off sound worse than it is, I think I should get on straight to the main website in question: Stuff Expat Aid Workers Like.
The website lays out the numerous common preoccupations, obsessions and preferences of Expat Aid Workers, a group I’ve had a considerable amount of experience with, whilst living in Indonesia, and now as an Expat Aid Worker in my own right.
Highlights of the site, which are particularly accurate and amusing include:
Planning air travel—because as much as we enjoy our work, it’s exciting to think about getting a break
Bad English—We know our Azeri is bad, but we still get a kick out of humorously mistranslated sentences.
Facebook—How else could we show off the work we’re doing in the exotic places we’re doing it in?
Hot showers—Heavenly. I loved returning to long hot showers of the non-bucket variety while in Scotland.
Pets—We’re lonely. Pets love us no matter what, as long as we feed them.
Blending in—I want nothing more than to blend in most days. But, I’ll always be a thin, blonde white guy. I need to find an exotic long lost culture of pale white folks. Where’s Atlantis when you need it?
Jargon—We stole this one from the army. Peace Corrps (PC) discussions are full of acronyms and technical terms
Personal Drama—What else do we have to talk about? Long live gossip, and the emotional roller coaster ride!
The other site worth sharing is Eurasia News. This is the best site I’ve found for Azerbaijan-related news. It also covers the news for other countries in the area, most interestingly the neighbor commonly known as Kansas. Honestly, this is the site I use to find out about what’s going on in the country around me. The television news is run by the government, and my Azeri isn’t good enough to read one of the opposition newspapers. So I turn to this website.
One final thing that helps get me through is my amusement with the Azeri obsessions with certain celebrities. My students love Shakira and Michael Jackson. For the registration form for Writing Olympics, we asked what the students’ special talents were. One student wrote: “I can dance as Shakira.” The best obsession I’ve noticed is with Robertino Noretti/Loretti, an Italian opera singer.
Another good obsession is with cross-dressing. Homosexuality might still be off-limits, but boy do Azeris get a kick out of cross-dressing. A while ago, I watched the Big Momma’s House series on Azeri TV. They loved it. Easy to understand physical comedy and a guy in a fat suit, dress, and wig. What else do you need?
The website lays out the numerous common preoccupations, obsessions and preferences of Expat Aid Workers, a group I’ve had a considerable amount of experience with, whilst living in Indonesia, and now as an Expat Aid Worker in my own right.
Highlights of the site, which are particularly accurate and amusing include:
Planning air travel—because as much as we enjoy our work, it’s exciting to think about getting a break
Bad English—We know our Azeri is bad, but we still get a kick out of humorously mistranslated sentences.
Facebook—How else could we show off the work we’re doing in the exotic places we’re doing it in?
Hot showers—Heavenly. I loved returning to long hot showers of the non-bucket variety while in Scotland.
Pets—We’re lonely. Pets love us no matter what, as long as we feed them.
Blending in—I want nothing more than to blend in most days. But, I’ll always be a thin, blonde white guy. I need to find an exotic long lost culture of pale white folks. Where’s Atlantis when you need it?
Jargon—We stole this one from the army. Peace Corrps (PC) discussions are full of acronyms and technical terms
Personal Drama—What else do we have to talk about? Long live gossip, and the emotional roller coaster ride!
The other site worth sharing is Eurasia News. This is the best site I’ve found for Azerbaijan-related news. It also covers the news for other countries in the area, most interestingly the neighbor commonly known as Kansas. Honestly, this is the site I use to find out about what’s going on in the country around me. The television news is run by the government, and my Azeri isn’t good enough to read one of the opposition newspapers. So I turn to this website.
One final thing that helps get me through is my amusement with the Azeri obsessions with certain celebrities. My students love Shakira and Michael Jackson. For the registration form for Writing Olympics, we asked what the students’ special talents were. One student wrote: “I can dance as Shakira.” The best obsession I’ve noticed is with Robertino Noretti/Loretti, an Italian opera singer.
Another good obsession is with cross-dressing. Homosexuality might still be off-limits, but boy do Azeris get a kick out of cross-dressing. A while ago, I watched the Big Momma’s House series on Azeri TV. They loved it. Easy to understand physical comedy and a guy in a fat suit, dress, and wig. What else do you need?
Monday, April 4, 2011
To the Market
I've begun cooking for myself. On Sunday, my host mother took me to the bazaar in town. Now, I've been to the bazaar a number of times, but it was still important to her that she go with me, partly to ensure I get the right prices for things, partly I'm sure because she doubted whether I could tell a good potato from a cumquat. It was actually nice having her there to point me to her usual sellers. The bazaar is a mess on Sundays, as people from all around the region set up shop in a large courtyard/parking lot area. It's packed with people selling their fruits and vegetables on tarps, or out of the trunk of their car, or on the hood of their car, while some bring small wooden tables to set up. The usuals pay for a booth under a hanger, but that's not where the good deals are, I would learn.
Another thing I learned is that Azeri potatoes are better than Pakistani potatoes. My host mother went up and down the rows of vendors, asking where their potatoes were from, and time and time again they would answer Pakistan, knowing full well that that meant she would pass them by. Finally we found Azeri potatoes, and I am now the proud owner of 2 kilos of them.
I also bought:
Cilantro
Spinach
Lentils
Rice
Spaghetti
Eggs
Garlic
Salt and Pepper
Dish Soap and Scrubber
Laundry Detergent
My own teapot
Olive Oil
Butter
If you know any good recipes, I am all ears. My first real meal was fried rice, which turned out well considering there was almost no gas for the flame. It got cold again here, and the gas was being used by people most of the day. Come back, spring weather!
Another thing I learned is that Azeri potatoes are better than Pakistani potatoes. My host mother went up and down the rows of vendors, asking where their potatoes were from, and time and time again they would answer Pakistan, knowing full well that that meant she would pass them by. Finally we found Azeri potatoes, and I am now the proud owner of 2 kilos of them.
I also bought:
Cilantro
Spinach
Lentils
Rice
Spaghetti
Eggs
Garlic
Salt and Pepper
Dish Soap and Scrubber
Laundry Detergent
My own teapot
Olive Oil
Butter
If you know any good recipes, I am all ears. My first real meal was fried rice, which turned out well considering there was almost no gas for the flame. It got cold again here, and the gas was being used by people most of the day. Come back, spring weather!
Friday, April 1, 2011
Goodbye Childhood
Another day, another step in the transition to adulthood. Today, I deleted my hotmail account.
On the surface not a big deal--I haven't really used that account since before college. It was replaced by my college email and then by my gmail account. But the hotmail account was a tie to my past. First created in Indonesia, using my JIS ID number, it gave me a tie to an important part of my life. It is sad, in a way, the way the email became a dumping ground for spam emails and newsletters I wanted to sign up for for one free giveaway--a free song download or something along those lines. And now that it is gone completely, something I feel I had to do to stop the spread of some perceived virus, does that mean my past is gone? No, it doesn't, it means only that I am not the person who created the email account. The boy who sat at a computer in Jakarta is not gone, but merely a part of the developing man who has had many experiences since then, and will continue to have experiences for hopefully many years to come.
The account was deleted because, when I checked it today, which I do periodically because my grandparents for some reason still send emails to that account even though I have told them countless times not to send things to it, that I have a new email, that I don't check it frequently...when I checked it today, I found an email to myself and a number of rejected senders emails. I didn't remember sending anything to myself, but not ruling it out because sometimes hotmail works faster than gmail on slow computers here, I opened the email. The only thing inside was a link. Guessing it might be a virus (and never knowing whether just opening the email activates the virus or clicking on the link) I quickly close and delete the email and then assuming that the virus did the typical virus thing and emailed itself to everyone in my contact list, prepared an email to everyone I could think of. Fortunately, I feel like this won't be a major issue, as many people no longer use or check the emails they did 10 years ago. But some emails are still on the books, and to those people I sent warning letters.
And then I decided it was best, in case this should happen again somehow, that I should delete my account. Actually, before I had completely committed to that plan of action, I deleted all of my contacts. It was amusing and a bit sad to see how few people from the contact list I still kept in touch with. Besides my family, who I do still talk to of course, there were people from Boy Scouts, from Indonesia, from high school. What happened to those people I wonder. Where are they now? What are they doing and are they happy? What would they think of me being here in Azerbaijan as a Peace Corps volunteer? Would they even remember me? I don't really remember all of them. Some were one-time emails, for a school project, or for camping trip preparation. Some were friends, some of them very good friends, people I thought I would stay in contact with for the rest of my life. And in all but a few exceptions, I’ve lost track of them. By the time we found each other again on Facebook, as I have with some people, it was mostly too late for a real friendship to be rekindled. I am happy with my life, with the friends I have, and do not believe I would change the course of my life, but I cannot help but wonder how my life would have been altered if I were still in contact with master_monkey or jclark01. Wherever they are, whoever they are, I hope they remember me as fondly as I remember them, and hope they too are becoming the adults they want to be, the adults that seemed so far off when we knew each other.
On the surface not a big deal--I haven't really used that account since before college. It was replaced by my college email and then by my gmail account. But the hotmail account was a tie to my past. First created in Indonesia, using my JIS ID number, it gave me a tie to an important part of my life. It is sad, in a way, the way the email became a dumping ground for spam emails and newsletters I wanted to sign up for for one free giveaway--a free song download or something along those lines. And now that it is gone completely, something I feel I had to do to stop the spread of some perceived virus, does that mean my past is gone? No, it doesn't, it means only that I am not the person who created the email account. The boy who sat at a computer in Jakarta is not gone, but merely a part of the developing man who has had many experiences since then, and will continue to have experiences for hopefully many years to come.
The account was deleted because, when I checked it today, which I do periodically because my grandparents for some reason still send emails to that account even though I have told them countless times not to send things to it, that I have a new email, that I don't check it frequently...when I checked it today, I found an email to myself and a number of rejected senders emails. I didn't remember sending anything to myself, but not ruling it out because sometimes hotmail works faster than gmail on slow computers here, I opened the email. The only thing inside was a link. Guessing it might be a virus (and never knowing whether just opening the email activates the virus or clicking on the link) I quickly close and delete the email and then assuming that the virus did the typical virus thing and emailed itself to everyone in my contact list, prepared an email to everyone I could think of. Fortunately, I feel like this won't be a major issue, as many people no longer use or check the emails they did 10 years ago. But some emails are still on the books, and to those people I sent warning letters.
And then I decided it was best, in case this should happen again somehow, that I should delete my account. Actually, before I had completely committed to that plan of action, I deleted all of my contacts. It was amusing and a bit sad to see how few people from the contact list I still kept in touch with. Besides my family, who I do still talk to of course, there were people from Boy Scouts, from Indonesia, from high school. What happened to those people I wonder. Where are they now? What are they doing and are they happy? What would they think of me being here in Azerbaijan as a Peace Corps volunteer? Would they even remember me? I don't really remember all of them. Some were one-time emails, for a school project, or for camping trip preparation. Some were friends, some of them very good friends, people I thought I would stay in contact with for the rest of my life. And in all but a few exceptions, I’ve lost track of them. By the time we found each other again on Facebook, as I have with some people, it was mostly too late for a real friendship to be rekindled. I am happy with my life, with the friends I have, and do not believe I would change the course of my life, but I cannot help but wonder how my life would have been altered if I were still in contact with master_monkey or jclark01. Wherever they are, whoever they are, I hope they remember me as fondly as I remember them, and hope they too are becoming the adults they want to be, the adults that seemed so far off when we knew each other.
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