Host Families

Recently, Peace Corps in Azerbaijan has been enacting a new practice during the site location process.  When an organization applies to host a PCV, they also include a list of potential host families for the PCV.  The Housing Coordinator then visits these families, to ascertain whether the conditions are appropriate for PCVs.  A reminder: PCVs live with host families during their training (the first four months in country), and then must stay with a host family for the first four months at their sites.  After that time, they are welcome to continue living with a host family under a new contract, or find alternative, independent housing.  At that stage, finding a place to live is on the PCV, but for the first eight months, we rely on the wisdom and judgment of the Housing Coordinator. 

Recently, PCVs have been invited to these meetings with prospective host families.  Our housing coordinator arrived around 10 and we went first to School #2, actually for my first time, and wow was it a surprisingly nice school.  Not that my school is bad or anything, but my school is #3.  This was #2.  At the school, we met a man and woman who knew which families were being considered for host families.  The first was a bit far from the school, away from the paved roads.  With shortcuts, it’d probably be quicker than if you followed the road, but it was still a bit off the beaten track.  The family there seemed nice, and had two young children who were shy and adorable. 

The second family was closer to the school and seemed phenomenal.  They were friendly and open, and had a large yard.  The prospective host mother was a teacher, which is nice because it give a PCV someone who understands the issues they’re going through at work.  Many host families write that they would only be interested in having a female PCV.  This is largely due to expectations of American men based on what people have seen on television and movies.  In reaction, they have unrealistic expectations of how men would act and treat others, and as result are hesitant to allow one to live with them.  One of the Housing Coordinator’s jobs is to convince people to consider a male PCV.  I hope that having me along on the visits helped.  I don’t think I’m particularly scary or threatening, and hopefully seeing what a male PCV looks and acts like helped ease their reservations.  In any event, they agreed to consider hosting a male, at least for the time being.  

The third family lived in a small apartment, and were concerned with cleanliness, a common issue for people here, who do spend a considerable amount of time keeping their homes clean.  They were kind, and their main drawback was the size of their apartment.  The last family had a daughter who was an English teacher at another school, which could be great for a PCV, and had a huge yard and garden.  

Not all of these families are perfect, but all could be strong hosts for future PCVs.  There are pros and cons to each and every family, and in big way, it is up to the PCV and family to work together to make the most of the situation.  A 10 minute visit when subtitles and details are lost to me isn't enough to know for sure how they'll react to a strange person living in their homes for four months.  Fortunately, hearing the Housing Coordinator's thoughts on each family at the end of the day, I feel he will make a good choice.

Visiting these other families caused me to reflect some on my own host family.  I was extremely fortunate to be placed with this family.  I remember when I first arrived, the trepidation and awkwardness I felt was extremely strong.  My host father met us in the park nearby, and we came to the house.  He showed me to my room and left me to unpack and come to lunch.  But, over time, and especially now that I see the potential new families, I know I was lucky that they had had volunteers before, one male and one female, so they knew some of what to expect.  They have two sons, one a few years older, one a few months younger, both of whom have been present in Ismayilli for significant periods of my service.  This has made up for Ismayilli being a smaller site with, at present, only one other PCV.  It’s given me a friend to spend time with.  My host parents are generous and considerate, giving me space, but also willing to share experiences.  I have my own kitchen year round, but am regularly invited to eat with them and drink tea with them in the evenings.  They’re interested in my stories, and share plenty of their own stories, thoughts, and jokes.  My American family visited last summer, and they enjoy meeting any other PCVs that come to stay from across Azerbaijan.  We recently crammed three guests into my room for a Lahic visit, and were all invited to tea from the samovar. 

Seeing these new families that are possibly about to embark on a journey similar to the one we have gone through the past two years, it has become even more meaningful that I was placed here.  If one were the type to believe in such things, and at times, I am, it must have been fate.

Patriotism and the Olympics

There are two times that are sure to raise my patriotic hackles.  One is living abroad, and another is the Olympics.  When I live in the US, it is easy to find fault and see the errors in the system.  The education system, the economy, the constant election cycle, drivers, artificial foods, etc etc etc.  But then I move abroad, and suddenly those issues are further away, less important, and generally, America looks pretty good next to a large part of the world.  I remember always that it has its problems—problems that are not going away any time soon—but maybe it’s a sign of our attention spans and the human mind that it’s the problems in front of us that seem the most important.

The other time when my patriotism runs rampant is during the Olympics.  I love the Olympics.  Summer or winter.  Doesn't matter.  I love that they show sports you wouldn't normally see on TV.  Luge, curling, skiing, and bobsled in the winter.  Track and field, swimming, diving, gymnastics, canoeing, wrestling, triathlon and pentathlon in the summer.  The Olympics are awesome.

Sure, I like it when the underdog wins a medal for the first time (Go Albania, Kiribati, Swaziland!).  This year, I’m especially happy for my host country, Azerbaijan, as they send their largest number of athletes to the games.  In particular, their wrestling team is making waves, at least on the commercial circuit, in their Febreze ads.  No wrestling medals yet, but Azerbaijan has won a bronze in weighlifting.

There are exceptions—I will just about always root against the US basketball team, because it always seems to be made up of the biggest stars, not the best team players.  Granted, I know this can apply to other sports and players. 

When it comes down to it, though, when the runners/swimmers/rowers/archers/gymnsts/you name it are coming down the stretch or entering the finals, I will root for the US.  Red, white and blue, all the way!  Oh, say can you see!  U-S-A!  U-S-A!

Keeping My Head in the Game

As I wrote in a previous post, ABLE was the main focus of my service for quite some time.  We all put a lot of energy and attention into the camp in order to insure that it took place and went smoothly.  This attention, along with our absences from our sites at the middle of the summer caused other programs and projects to suffer some inevitable neglect.  It is very easy for kids to drift away if a program is not active consistently.  So, now that ABLE is over, I find myself in a vacuum of sorts.  I have recovered from the exhaustion that immediately followed the end of camp, but now what?  School is still out, and the doors are locked for summer. 

I find myself taking time for myself, perhaps more than I should.  I have spent time researching and planning for my return to the United States in a few months.  November 21 is coming faster and faster.  A moment ago, it was the beginning of summer, and now it is August.  At the end of the month, we will have our COS (Close of Service) Conference, the last time our AZ8 group will all be together.  There, we will discuss some of the issues I find myself facing now, such as what to do with the remaining time we have, how to wrap up our service in a meaningful way (for ourselves and for our community), and what we need to do before we leave (doctor’s appointments, language tests, etc). 

In preparation for my return, I hope to take the GRE sometime this fall, which means study and planning.  I haven’t taken a math course since high school, so I’m a bit rusty in some areas.  Gettysburg required a quantitative reasoning class, which I fulfilled with Logic.  The ideas and practices of algebra and geometry are locked in my brain somewhere, but uncovering and revitalizing them has been a challenge.

The more abundant free time I find myself with now has provided me with the opportunity to pursue something that has been lacking in my life here—exercise.  This wouldn’t have happened without the timely return of my host brother, Orxan.  With his enthusiasm and encouragement, we have begun going to the local Olympic complex swimming pool three mornings a week.  At night, we go to the park for ping-pong and beer, and usually attract a bit of a crowd, though I'm hardly the best of players.  Truly the sport of champions.  It’s in the Olympics, after all!

Of course, I have to work.  It’s just that right now, in the heart of the YD season, I feel as if there’s not much to do.  I’ve lost my students for the most part, though there are small groups that meet with me for conversation and English help.  I’ve been helping a local friend as he attempt to apply to graduate school in the US, proofing his statement of purpose.  In the meantime, I wait, and look forward to school coming back.  Most YDs are at their best in the summers, and until ABLE ended, I was one of them.  But as a YD at a school, I find myself in the position of many TEFL volunteers, without a work home.  It is this lack of an organization that makes it even more important that I plan for the near future.  I’m beginning to feel my last chance to leave an impression on my school, teachers, and students, and I hope not to waste it.  It’s still summer, but the end is coming.