Winter may not be over, and clubs are still sparsely attended, but the last week has been considerably sunnier than recently. It may not really be much warmer, but just seeing the sun makes it feel like spring may actually come. A few weekends ago, after what seemed like years of clouds, snow, and frozen pipes, I traveled to Bilasuvar, to visit one of my former cluster mates. This was my first visit to the south of Azerbaijan.
Before I could head south, I found I had to go west. There are no direct roads between my part of Azerbaijan and the southern finger, and I had two options—go west and then south, or go to Baku and then south. I ended up meeting up and heading south from Mingachevir with another PCV friend. This too was a bit of a milestone for me, the first time back to Mingachevir since site visits, over a year ago. At that time, I needed my PCV host to feed me Azerbaijani lines to be able to ask how much some potatoes at the bazaar were, and even then, barely stumbled through the conversation. Now, such conversations have become second nature.
(My host brother has been teaching himself some Spanish, and asked me some questions about that. Now, that requires a lot of conversation to recall the Spanish vocabulary and conjugation.)
At the time, Mingachevir was my first choice for site, perhaps because it was the only place outside of Xirdalan and Sumgayit I had seen in Azerbaijan. But after a year of living and working in Ismayilli, I can truthfully say that I am happy at my site, and even though Mingachevir would have been a great assignment—university students, lots of site mates, warmer winters—there is a lot to be thankful for in Ismayilli. I still have a fantastic host family, beautiful surroundings which I hope to explore more of in a summer that is less humid than much of the rest of the country, and beautiful views of snow-covered mountains in the winter. Not too shabby.
From Mingachevir, we got on a large bus, that was comfortable for how old it was, and despite the fact that its internal systems had been gutted. The spots where the personal lights and A/C fans once were, now were just holes in the ceiling. The engine was where the buses really showed their age; though we definitely weren’t helped by the state of some of the roads we drove on, under construction since before I came to Azerbaijan.
It turned out that we drove back basically the way I’d come, and if I had known, I could have waited for the bus instead of going all the way to its source. Lesson learned. Eventually we turned south, and five hours after we’d left Mingachevir finally had our first rest stop. After that, Bilasuvar was another 45 minutes. We’d taken breakfast with us on the bus, but to be safe had not drunk anything up until the rest stop.
I will say this about the south. It is flat. At least not along the path we were on. Further west, there are the Talysh Mountains, but along the coast it is flat, flat, flat. I dozed off in the last leg of the trip and woke up suddenly to see we were passing over a large lake, suddenly reminiscent of driving to Key West.
Bilasuvar is flat and spread out, so even though it is one of the smallest rayons in Azerbaijan, the town itself is actually fairly large, or at least in comparison to Ismayilli. The PCV we were visiting works at a very nice, modern school financed by Central Bank, complete with Smart Boards and giant outdoor chess sets. While the school faces many of the same issues other schools in Azerbaijan deal with (textbooks, etc), it was startling and exciting to see a school so different from where I work. They even have school buses!
Several other PCVs came to visit us and we made some delicious chicken enchiladas and sugar cookies before settling in for a game of Settlers of Catan. The next day we wandered around town and found ourselves climbing the bleachers at the local stadium and staring out across the fields, trying to spot Iran in the distance. While we were unable to see the mountains that are on the Iranian side, we could see far enough in the clouds to see the road that crosses the border and a flag that marks the crossing.
The final night was marked with more Settlers, good music, and a long, hot shower. The next day, another seven hour bus ride commenced and finally I made it back to Ismayilli, to discover that the pipes had finally thawed and water was mine once more. The days of melting snow were over (hopefully I’m not jinxing myself on this one). A watched pipe never thaws, and getting out of Dodge was just what they needed to work again.
Since then, we've had some sunnier days, and temperatures have even jumped into the 40s! Last Tuesday marked the first of four days leading up to Novruz, each called Chershembe. You may remember from last year that each represents a different element. The first Tuesday was water. Though it is tradition for girls to go to the river to gather water, that step was avoided here (no local rivers, for one). Instead, my family did place a bowl of clean water on the table during dinner and prepared the traditional celebratory meal, plov.
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