With three fellow PCVs, I finally made it up to Georgia, the easiest nearby country to visit. Both the countries to the south, west, and northeast provide their share of difficulties in visiting, and Turkey requires a plane ride. Fortunately, Georgia is just a bus ride away.
We went to go skiing, in Gudauri, about two hours north of the capital. The four of us met in Ganja and took a bus directly to Tbilisi, via the Red Bridge crossing in western Azerbaijan. The Red Bridge is in fact just a brick bridge, and is perpendicular to the border, not the route to cross, as I had imagined beforehand. The idealist in me was a bit disappointed; I have to admit.
Tbilisi is a smaller city than Baku, and feels definitively older as well. Baku only truly became a major site under the Soviet Union when Azerbaijan was used for its oil and natural gas, and Baku was convenient for these goals. Tbilisi, in contrast, has been the major city of Georgia for centuries, and in addition to straddling a large river, is filled with old buildings, churches, and topped with a large fort.
Our bus actually dropped us on the outskirts of the city and we experienced our first moment of culture shock. We realized, very suddenly, that even though we have spent the last year and a half becoming proficient at Azerbaijani, we didn’t speak a word of Georgian, and only a few words amongst us of Russian. Additionally, we couldn’t make heads or tails of the Georgian alphabet. We were back to square one, just as we’d been when we first stepped off the plane in Baku. It was a jolt, and in fact, a little frightening to be so helpless for a change.
We spent the first night in a hostel in Tbilisi. Another first for me, and while it gave me a taste for what hostels are like, we left spent the majority of the afternoon exploring the city and left early in the morning, so it wasn’t quite the full hostel experience. However, it was enough to remind me of my time at Genesee Valley, so perhaps I know more of hostels than I think. I’ll just have to go back.
One thing that Tbilisi and Georgia have in spades is good food. We had a delicious meal of chicken cooked in a garlic-spiced broth (yes, they cook with spices!). We had bacon and eggs for breakfast (yes, they eat pork—Georgia is predominantly Christian). The main food Georgia in known for (to us at least) is a dish called khachapuri, which is sort of a pizza sandwich. The most common sort is dough with cheese inside of it. There are variations that involve egg and more cheese being baked on top, or with beans inside as well. Basically, it’s delicious any way you have it. And it’s everywhere. I doubt I would have lost as much weight as I have if I could eat khachapuri every day. We spent a considerable amount of the trip wondering how our lives would be different if we had been placed in Georgia.
To return to the purpose of our trip, we came to ski. And ski we did. We arrived around midday to Gudauri, a resort up in Caucusus, above the tree line and among some of the most beautiful mountains I’ve ever seen. I have never skied anywhere like it. We feared the weather would be bad, but the entire weekend, the sky was brilliant clear blue, which turned out to have its own downside, as none of our group had thought to bring sunscreen. Oops.
The slopes were just as nice as the weather, and while I was out of practice and shape, and my muscles that I had forgotten I had reminded me of this the next day, it was a lot of fun. I only fell down five or six times!
Sitting on the gondola in our ski gear, with mountains in the background, and the sun shining down, we were shocked by how good we felt, how away from everything that had been our lives for the past year and a half. It was a real vacation; a vacation like we’d take back in our pre-Peace Corps lives. This wasn’t exploring a new culture or studying a new language, this was pure fun and games.
By the time we made it back to our sites, it was time to get ready to celebrate our second and last Novruz in Azerbaijan. But that’s for another post.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Recent Events and Spring May Just Come After All
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.
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.
Khojaly 20 Years Later
Sunday marks the 20th anniversary of the Khojaly massacre, which resulted in over 600 civilian deaths. Along with January 20th, this is one of the most important dates in Azerbaijan.
Maybe it’s anniversary fever, but suddenly, Azerbaijan is popping up around the world. Germany and France have recognized the event as an act of genocide. A memorial was erected in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina. Signs for Khojaly have been placed in New York and Washington, even on the front page of The Washington Post website, and on buses and buildings in New York City. Even the state of New Jersey recognized the massacre.
At my school, an assembly was held to remember those who passed on that day, complete with a powerpoint slide show, detailing the event. Even though I did not understand all that was said, it was clear how impassioned they felt about the incident.
While the war that lead to these deaths caused suffering and death for both sides of the conflict, it is nice to see the issue receive international attention. Progress towards peace has not been achieved solely between the two countries, which to this day remain technically at war, albeit in a cease-fire. Attention, interest, and encouragement from the international community seem the best and most effective means of encouraging both sides to move towards a peaceful resolution. Of course there are other pressing international relations concerns, but a peace between these two countries sure would make relations in this region healthier.
http://news.az/articles/karabakh/55420
http://news.az/articles/politics/55381
http://azerbaijanamericaalliance.org/
Maybe it’s anniversary fever, but suddenly, Azerbaijan is popping up around the world. Germany and France have recognized the event as an act of genocide. A memorial was erected in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina. Signs for Khojaly have been placed in New York and Washington, even on the front page of The Washington Post website, and on buses and buildings in New York City. Even the state of New Jersey recognized the massacre.
At my school, an assembly was held to remember those who passed on that day, complete with a powerpoint slide show, detailing the event. Even though I did not understand all that was said, it was clear how impassioned they felt about the incident.
While the war that lead to these deaths caused suffering and death for both sides of the conflict, it is nice to see the issue receive international attention. Progress towards peace has not been achieved solely between the two countries, which to this day remain technically at war, albeit in a cease-fire. Attention, interest, and encouragement from the international community seem the best and most effective means of encouraging both sides to move towards a peaceful resolution. Of course there are other pressing international relations concerns, but a peace between these two countries sure would make relations in this region healthier.
http://news.az/articles/karabakh/55420
http://news.az/articles/politics/55381
http://azerbaijanamericaalliance.org/
The two links at the bottom of this post relate to projects that are beginning in or will possibly occur. These are not development projects, of the sort that Peace Corps generally becomes involved with, but they are of interest, particularly to someone who has been involved in the development of the country and seen the difference between the regions and the capital.
Even in the past year that I have been here, Azerbaijan, and Baku in particular, has changed drastically. New buildings are constantly being constructed, mostly to be new stores, but also apartments, offices, and hotels. In Baku, anticipation for Eurovision is accelerating. The representative for Azerbaijan has been chosen, and search for a song is now underway. A side note, two PCVs participated in the contest to be selected to represent Azerbaijan in the Eurovision contest, and while they only finished 8 out of 9 in their week (of seven weeks), they brought some wonderful attention to Peace Corps.
The song that started it all: This is their first music video which launched them to international fame.
Introduction Video/In Azerbaijan: For Eurovision, they filmed this video introducing themselves and included a new video clip, which involved filming at the new cultural arts center that is under construction.
Payiz Geldi: The second night at Eurovision, all the contestants performed traditional Azeri music.
Baku Girls: The third night of the competition.
Final Night: On the final night of the competition, they were joined on stage by a whole host of other PCVs who were in town for the week for our group's mid-service conference.
As Azerbaijan barrels towards hosting the event, and endeavors to put its best foot forward, the country’s enthusiasm has grown exponentially, and the government has made bigger and grander changes and projects. Here are two proposals:
http://www.theatlanticcities.com/design/2012/02/azerbaijan-build-one-kilometer-tall-skyscraper/1188/#.TzY33y7U--c.facebook
http://www.news.az/articles/54051
Regardless of what projects are completed in time, and which remain for the future, being here in Azerbaijan at this time is certainly interesting. While most of the changes are focused in Baku, even the regions of Azerbaijan are getting in on the building. Ismayilli has finished its Great Wall of Hiding Trash, and a new row of shops is on its way.
Even in the past year that I have been here, Azerbaijan, and Baku in particular, has changed drastically. New buildings are constantly being constructed, mostly to be new stores, but also apartments, offices, and hotels. In Baku, anticipation for Eurovision is accelerating. The representative for Azerbaijan has been chosen, and search for a song is now underway. A side note, two PCVs participated in the contest to be selected to represent Azerbaijan in the Eurovision contest, and while they only finished 8 out of 9 in their week (of seven weeks), they brought some wonderful attention to Peace Corps.
The song that started it all: This is their first music video which launched them to international fame.
Introduction Video/In Azerbaijan: For Eurovision, they filmed this video introducing themselves and included a new video clip, which involved filming at the new cultural arts center that is under construction.
Payiz Geldi: The second night at Eurovision, all the contestants performed traditional Azeri music.
Baku Girls: The third night of the competition.
Final Night: On the final night of the competition, they were joined on stage by a whole host of other PCVs who were in town for the week for our group's mid-service conference.
As Azerbaijan barrels towards hosting the event, and endeavors to put its best foot forward, the country’s enthusiasm has grown exponentially, and the government has made bigger and grander changes and projects. Here are two proposals:
http://www.theatlanticcities.com/design/2012/02/azerbaijan-build-one-kilometer-tall-skyscraper/1188/#.TzY33y7U--c.facebook
http://www.news.az/articles/54051
Regardless of what projects are completed in time, and which remain for the future, being here in Azerbaijan at this time is certainly interesting. While most of the changes are focused in Baku, even the regions of Azerbaijan are getting in on the building. Ismayilli has finished its Great Wall of Hiding Trash, and a new row of shops is on its way.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Peace Corps and Long Distance Relationships
I’ve been trying different ways to discuss this topic, and no matter what, it seems to come out preachy or self-centered. Of course, this is my blog, so I guess a certain amount of self-centeredness is acceptable and expected. So forgive me this.
Peace Corps is hard. When we are sworn in as volunteers, we pledge to serve in conditions of hardship. Right there in the pledge, so we know what we’re getting ourselves in for, or at least, we know it won’t be easy. Peace Corps does try to prepare us for the hardship we will face. We receive plenty of pamphlets and paperwork about the type of work our program does, and cultural reports about our post countries. But, for prospective volunteers in committed relationships, they go one step further. They send surveys to make sure we are prepared for the upcoming challenges to the relationship.
Of course, no paper can predict all of the challenges that a couple goes through, much less when one person goes to the other side of the planet. And my relationship has definitely had its share of bumps and twists. There have been times when we’ve come pretty close to the brink. But here I am, and here we are, still together. We’ve made it through nearly seventeen months. Nine months and one week to go.
The first weeks were the hardest. Contact was so sporadic and uncontrollable throughout PST, though it did become easier once Peace Corps issued us cell phones. Then we could at least send text messages (though only if the US person has AT&T or Sprint, not Verizon). My girlfriend would call when we couldn’t meet, using Skype, which remains much cheaper than calling on a normal phone plan. It seems so long ago now, but the emotions and frustrations of that time still seem raw and real, and while our relationship has become stronger as we’ve gone through the stresses of PST, sometimes the shadow of that time has reared its ugly head. But, a lot has happened in the 13 months since then, which overwhelm those three months of aggravation and difficulty most of the time. The problems then were no one person’s fault; unless you make the case that they are my fault since I left. But they were and I suppose still are, issues that strain these long distance relationships. No matter what one does, one person is still in another country, usually with spotty Internet contact.
Once I got to site, the relationship became easier for one simple reason—we were able to create a regular talking schedule. The IREX (a community Internet and computer center) had wireless internet which enabled us to speak easily and with minimal irregularities (such as power outages and the like), and my ability to make my own schedule gave us a new flexibility for planning. Last summer, my host brother went to Ohio as part of the MUSKIE program, and my host family installed Internet, meaning I have even more scheduling freedom, and can now plan to talk after IREX closes (this came in huge when the IREX wireless stopped working). Seeing each other’s faces and hearing the other’s voice went a long way to keeping us connected. Sure, we were changing, the typical problem that faces distant couples, but we were able to grow together, not apart. Thank Newton for the wonders of technology. I can’t imagine how difficult this may have been for the first groups of volunteers back in the 60s.
The other thing that made our lives and our relationship easier is that we were able to see each other. We’ve now seen each other three times. First, as soon as was possible (Peace Corps Azerbaijan stipulates that we must remain in country and at site for the first four months of service), we met in Glasgow, Scotland. At that point, I only had a few saved up vacation days, so it was a short trip, but much needed, because it confirmed to us that we still worked when we were together. There was no awkwardness in our conversation or in our actions. All the little things—talking, joking, laughing, holding hands—were still there. We were still us.
The next time was even better, though it was not always fun. She came to Azerbaijani. At the beginning, she was steadfastly against coming. But little by little, she opened up to the idea and eventually decided she would come for ten days at the end of July. The visit was not a vacation, and in addition to the fact that it was brutally hot at the time, it was not always fun. But the fact that she came, that she had opened herself up to the idea and the experience, that she had trusted me to come around the world, meant a lot for the relationship, and meant a lot to me.
The third and most recent visit was over Christmas, and finally I made the trip home. This was my turn to be initially opposed. At the beginning of my service, I worried about not being able to come back to Azerbaijan because I liked being home too much. And while I did like being home, I knew I was far enough along in my service that I would be too stubborn to give up and stay in America.
And she supported that determination. When I got my assignment to Azerbaijan, after we figured out where it was exactly, we were on two different sides about whether I should go. But I went. And now, as we have traversed the ups and downs, suffered through the power outages and dropped phone calls, she said something to me the other day that meant a lot to me. She told me that if something were to happen that would cause me to be sent home early, she would be upset for me. At the beginning, she not entirely jokingly wanted me to suffer some minor but significant enough injury that I would be sent home. Now, though, she understands. She understands me, and that if I were sent home now, or anytime in the next nine months, I would not feel like I had completed what I set out to do, and would forever feel unfulfilled. For that understanding, I know more than ever that this is a relationship worth fighting for, and I thank her for that.
Who knows exactly what will happen in the next nine months (and one week). But at the same time that being in a relationship is made difficult by being in Peace Corps and in turn makes being in Peace Corps more difficult, it also makes it easier in many ways. Even better, someone who visited and now understands what I’m doing here all the more, makes me feel even more motivated and positive about the work I’m attempting to do. And as long as I know that she is there to listen when I need to talk, to talk when I need to listen and even when I’m not ready to listen but always willing to, I know that we will survive and in fact, thrive.
What worked for us will not work for everyone, but, in a small bout of wishing that this is not solely self-centered, I hope that some prospective PCV reads this and gleams some encouragement that they can make their long distance relationship work. We hear time and time again that long distance relationships never work, and I’ve seen and been a part of relationships that have not worked. But sometimes, once in a blue moon, they do. And thank goodness for that.
Peace Corps is hard. When we are sworn in as volunteers, we pledge to serve in conditions of hardship. Right there in the pledge, so we know what we’re getting ourselves in for, or at least, we know it won’t be easy. Peace Corps does try to prepare us for the hardship we will face. We receive plenty of pamphlets and paperwork about the type of work our program does, and cultural reports about our post countries. But, for prospective volunteers in committed relationships, they go one step further. They send surveys to make sure we are prepared for the upcoming challenges to the relationship.
Of course, no paper can predict all of the challenges that a couple goes through, much less when one person goes to the other side of the planet. And my relationship has definitely had its share of bumps and twists. There have been times when we’ve come pretty close to the brink. But here I am, and here we are, still together. We’ve made it through nearly seventeen months. Nine months and one week to go.
The first weeks were the hardest. Contact was so sporadic and uncontrollable throughout PST, though it did become easier once Peace Corps issued us cell phones. Then we could at least send text messages (though only if the US person has AT&T or Sprint, not Verizon). My girlfriend would call when we couldn’t meet, using Skype, which remains much cheaper than calling on a normal phone plan. It seems so long ago now, but the emotions and frustrations of that time still seem raw and real, and while our relationship has become stronger as we’ve gone through the stresses of PST, sometimes the shadow of that time has reared its ugly head. But, a lot has happened in the 13 months since then, which overwhelm those three months of aggravation and difficulty most of the time. The problems then were no one person’s fault; unless you make the case that they are my fault since I left. But they were and I suppose still are, issues that strain these long distance relationships. No matter what one does, one person is still in another country, usually with spotty Internet contact.
Once I got to site, the relationship became easier for one simple reason—we were able to create a regular talking schedule. The IREX (a community Internet and computer center) had wireless internet which enabled us to speak easily and with minimal irregularities (such as power outages and the like), and my ability to make my own schedule gave us a new flexibility for planning. Last summer, my host brother went to Ohio as part of the MUSKIE program, and my host family installed Internet, meaning I have even more scheduling freedom, and can now plan to talk after IREX closes (this came in huge when the IREX wireless stopped working). Seeing each other’s faces and hearing the other’s voice went a long way to keeping us connected. Sure, we were changing, the typical problem that faces distant couples, but we were able to grow together, not apart. Thank Newton for the wonders of technology. I can’t imagine how difficult this may have been for the first groups of volunteers back in the 60s.
The other thing that made our lives and our relationship easier is that we were able to see each other. We’ve now seen each other three times. First, as soon as was possible (Peace Corps Azerbaijan stipulates that we must remain in country and at site for the first four months of service), we met in Glasgow, Scotland. At that point, I only had a few saved up vacation days, so it was a short trip, but much needed, because it confirmed to us that we still worked when we were together. There was no awkwardness in our conversation or in our actions. All the little things—talking, joking, laughing, holding hands—were still there. We were still us.
The next time was even better, though it was not always fun. She came to Azerbaijani. At the beginning, she was steadfastly against coming. But little by little, she opened up to the idea and eventually decided she would come for ten days at the end of July. The visit was not a vacation, and in addition to the fact that it was brutally hot at the time, it was not always fun. But the fact that she came, that she had opened herself up to the idea and the experience, that she had trusted me to come around the world, meant a lot for the relationship, and meant a lot to me.
The third and most recent visit was over Christmas, and finally I made the trip home. This was my turn to be initially opposed. At the beginning of my service, I worried about not being able to come back to Azerbaijan because I liked being home too much. And while I did like being home, I knew I was far enough along in my service that I would be too stubborn to give up and stay in America.
And she supported that determination. When I got my assignment to Azerbaijan, after we figured out where it was exactly, we were on two different sides about whether I should go. But I went. And now, as we have traversed the ups and downs, suffered through the power outages and dropped phone calls, she said something to me the other day that meant a lot to me. She told me that if something were to happen that would cause me to be sent home early, she would be upset for me. At the beginning, she not entirely jokingly wanted me to suffer some minor but significant enough injury that I would be sent home. Now, though, she understands. She understands me, and that if I were sent home now, or anytime in the next nine months, I would not feel like I had completed what I set out to do, and would forever feel unfulfilled. For that understanding, I know more than ever that this is a relationship worth fighting for, and I thank her for that.
Who knows exactly what will happen in the next nine months (and one week). But at the same time that being in a relationship is made difficult by being in Peace Corps and in turn makes being in Peace Corps more difficult, it also makes it easier in many ways. Even better, someone who visited and now understands what I’m doing here all the more, makes me feel even more motivated and positive about the work I’m attempting to do. And as long as I know that she is there to listen when I need to talk, to talk when I need to listen and even when I’m not ready to listen but always willing to, I know that we will survive and in fact, thrive.
What worked for us will not work for everyone, but, in a small bout of wishing that this is not solely self-centered, I hope that some prospective PCV reads this and gleams some encouragement that they can make their long distance relationship work. We hear time and time again that long distance relationships never work, and I’ve seen and been a part of relationships that have not worked. But sometimes, once in a blue moon, they do. And thank goodness for that.
February
The past month has been a bit rough. I remember last winter was tough and cold, but this seems like a whole new level of cold. Of course, Azerbaijan isn't the only country getting hit by ridiculous cold. Europe has been swept by intense cold weather, that has even caused deaths.
The weather has had a strong impact on my clubs. Since returning from Mid-Service Conference, attendance has been way down, and the cold weather is a big part of that. I started English conversation clubs, as well as an arts and crafts/creativity club. I am continuing, with one of the teachers here, to work on an exchange program with a Japanese school (in which we collaborate to complete a cultural mural on a large canvas), as well as a teacher conversation club for non-English teachers, and a small conversation club/English test preparation course that started out as a one-on-one tutoring session to prepare a student for FLEX.
My grandparents sent a pile of National Geographic maps and posters, with which I decorated my classroom, but no students have even set foot in the room since I spent an afternoon deciding which ones to use (surprise, I used them all!). I get excited just walking into the room. Now I just need students to be allowed back outside.
The most disappointing part of the attendance dip has been that I came back from Mid-Service Conference energized and re-motivated. These conferences with Peace Corps are not always the most exciting or informative times, but I love hearing about everyone else's work and projects, and enjoy stealing the best and most useful for my own school. This is just one of those times when I know things will get better, it's just a matter of waiting for the better to come.
We got a step forward (though I'm sure there will be a step back at least once or twice) today, when the sun came out, and stayed out all day. After what seems like a month (really a solid two or three weeks), having the sun on my face today has been rejuvenating. It certainly has not hurt that there was finally enough gas that I didn't need to spend the day hibernating in my brown monster sleeping bag. Next step: I need my pipes to unfreeze during the morning so I can get water. The last few days of filling up my water filter with snow and waiting for it to melt and filter takes a little too long for not much water.
The next milestone to look forward to is next month's Novruz holiday. You may remember, this is Azerbaijan's biggest holiday, and usually means spring is starting to come around the corner. Last year, there was snow on the ground, but we didn't need to bundle up anywhere near as much as we are now. So, fingers crossed that I make it through until then. Think warm thoughts. Think warm thoughts.
The weather has had a strong impact on my clubs. Since returning from Mid-Service Conference, attendance has been way down, and the cold weather is a big part of that. I started English conversation clubs, as well as an arts and crafts/creativity club. I am continuing, with one of the teachers here, to work on an exchange program with a Japanese school (in which we collaborate to complete a cultural mural on a large canvas), as well as a teacher conversation club for non-English teachers, and a small conversation club/English test preparation course that started out as a one-on-one tutoring session to prepare a student for FLEX.
My grandparents sent a pile of National Geographic maps and posters, with which I decorated my classroom, but no students have even set foot in the room since I spent an afternoon deciding which ones to use (surprise, I used them all!). I get excited just walking into the room. Now I just need students to be allowed back outside.
The most disappointing part of the attendance dip has been that I came back from Mid-Service Conference energized and re-motivated. These conferences with Peace Corps are not always the most exciting or informative times, but I love hearing about everyone else's work and projects, and enjoy stealing the best and most useful for my own school. This is just one of those times when I know things will get better, it's just a matter of waiting for the better to come.
We got a step forward (though I'm sure there will be a step back at least once or twice) today, when the sun came out, and stayed out all day. After what seems like a month (really a solid two or three weeks), having the sun on my face today has been rejuvenating. It certainly has not hurt that there was finally enough gas that I didn't need to spend the day hibernating in my brown monster sleeping bag. Next step: I need my pipes to unfreeze during the morning so I can get water. The last few days of filling up my water filter with snow and waiting for it to melt and filter takes a little too long for not much water.
The next milestone to look forward to is next month's Novruz holiday. You may remember, this is Azerbaijan's biggest holiday, and usually means spring is starting to come around the corner. Last year, there was snow on the ground, but we didn't need to bundle up anywhere near as much as we are now. So, fingers crossed that I make it through until then. Think warm thoughts. Think warm thoughts.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Fantasy Congress
I recently read an article about Congress. Here’s the depressing part:
"Of the 449 bills that became law in the 110th Congress, 144 of them — 32 percent — did nothing more than rename a federal building. In comparison, the 109th Congress passed 121 ceremonial bills, about 25 percent of the 483 bills that became law. The 104th Congress — the first time in 40 years that Republicans held a majority in the House — passed 337 bills, and only 35 were ceremonial naming bills, or just over 10 percent. No Congress since 1975 has introduced fewer pieces of legislation than the 7,991 bills and resolutions offered in the 104th Congress."
Okay, so that’s pretty ridiculous. At least they can agree on names of buildings. It’s not exactly health care or education reform. The article also had information about individual Congressmen and women’s bill statistics.
"Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee (D-Texas) introduced 67 bills during the 110th Congress, including a bill “to prevent the president from encroaching upon the Congressional prerogative to make laws” by eliminating signing statements that allow the White House to interpret legislative intent. Rep. Ron Paul (R-Texas) introduced 70 bills, including a bill “to end membership of the United States in the United Nations.” Neither bill became law or even received a vote in committee.
Rep. Carolyn Maloney (D-N.Y.) introduced 88 bills, more than any other Member of the House in the 110th Congress though some bills were introduced several times as different versions. On Jan. 29, Maloney introduced seven bills to limit tariffs on individual chemicals, none of which became law. Two bills that Maloney sponsored have become laws since January 2007, but several others were incorporated into other legislation that became law.
"In the Senate, each Member tends to sponsor more bills, befitting their larger constituencies. In the 110th Congress, Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton (D-N.Y.) introduced more legislation than anyone else — 163 bills — despite spending much of the session campaigning for the Democratic presidential nomination."
Sorry that was a long quote. But it gave me an idea, and as Rule 34 of the Internet states, “If you can imagine it, it exists online.” Rule 35 is, “If it does not exist, you are obligated to create it.” So here’s my idea. Fantasy Congress. Each fantasy player would select a team of Congress people, both senators and members of the House of Representatives. The stats would be about bills introduced, with more points if the bill gets out of committee, or is openly debated, and even more if it passes into law. Points off if the President vetoes it. Points off if it is rejected or voted down. Should points still be awarded if the bill is a new version of another bill, or is that a reduction, or nothing? What about if it is one of the bills that merely renames buildings? Someone with better programming knowledge needs to make this happen. In addition to being yet another fantasy league for people to obsess over, it'd be a great way to evaluate Congress. Information like this seems to me an important way to influence voting. It's not what they say, it's what they do in office. If all they're doing in office is renaming buildings, then it seems to me that different people need to be given the chance to make something happen, regardless of whether they're Democrat, Republican, or a third party.
These are the things I think of in my spare time. Maybe I should be reading, or studying for the GRE, or planning a club, writing a grant. But no, I think about Fantasy Congress.
"Of the 449 bills that became law in the 110th Congress, 144 of them — 32 percent — did nothing more than rename a federal building. In comparison, the 109th Congress passed 121 ceremonial bills, about 25 percent of the 483 bills that became law. The 104th Congress — the first time in 40 years that Republicans held a majority in the House — passed 337 bills, and only 35 were ceremonial naming bills, or just over 10 percent. No Congress since 1975 has introduced fewer pieces of legislation than the 7,991 bills and resolutions offered in the 104th Congress."
Okay, so that’s pretty ridiculous. At least they can agree on names of buildings. It’s not exactly health care or education reform. The article also had information about individual Congressmen and women’s bill statistics.
"Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee (D-Texas) introduced 67 bills during the 110th Congress, including a bill “to prevent the president from encroaching upon the Congressional prerogative to make laws” by eliminating signing statements that allow the White House to interpret legislative intent. Rep. Ron Paul (R-Texas) introduced 70 bills, including a bill “to end membership of the United States in the United Nations.” Neither bill became law or even received a vote in committee.
Rep. Carolyn Maloney (D-N.Y.) introduced 88 bills, more than any other Member of the House in the 110th Congress though some bills were introduced several times as different versions. On Jan. 29, Maloney introduced seven bills to limit tariffs on individual chemicals, none of which became law. Two bills that Maloney sponsored have become laws since January 2007, but several others were incorporated into other legislation that became law.
"In the Senate, each Member tends to sponsor more bills, befitting their larger constituencies. In the 110th Congress, Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton (D-N.Y.) introduced more legislation than anyone else — 163 bills — despite spending much of the session campaigning for the Democratic presidential nomination."
Sorry that was a long quote. But it gave me an idea, and as Rule 34 of the Internet states, “If you can imagine it, it exists online.” Rule 35 is, “If it does not exist, you are obligated to create it.” So here’s my idea. Fantasy Congress. Each fantasy player would select a team of Congress people, both senators and members of the House of Representatives. The stats would be about bills introduced, with more points if the bill gets out of committee, or is openly debated, and even more if it passes into law. Points off if the President vetoes it. Points off if it is rejected or voted down. Should points still be awarded if the bill is a new version of another bill, or is that a reduction, or nothing? What about if it is one of the bills that merely renames buildings? Someone with better programming knowledge needs to make this happen. In addition to being yet another fantasy league for people to obsess over, it'd be a great way to evaluate Congress. Information like this seems to me an important way to influence voting. It's not what they say, it's what they do in office. If all they're doing in office is renaming buildings, then it seems to me that different people need to be given the chance to make something happen, regardless of whether they're Democrat, Republican, or a third party.
These are the things I think of in my spare time. Maybe I should be reading, or studying for the GRE, or planning a club, writing a grant. But no, I think about Fantasy Congress.
Christmas Holiday Addendum
Four events stood out amidst the trip, which I feel are worth sharing. One was seeing my extended family for dinner. A large portion of my father’s side of the family visited one evening, shortly after Christmas. A dinner of brisket, macaroni and cheese, and a delicious salad. Yeah, food’s important, too. In addition to all the people, four family dogs came, bringing the house total up to five. What a circus! Anyway, it was wonderful to see them all so close to Christmas, to catch up on their lives and share parts of mine, and of course, share Christmas gifts. I gave my cousin a bottle of homemade zogal (a type of berry) vodka. I must admit to enjoying a moment of pleasure at sharing Azerbaijani drinking traditions with him and then seeing his grimace after swallowing the first shot.
The second event that was memorable was sharing Christmas with my host brother, studying in Ohio for his master’s degree. The first morning I was there I drove (first time in 15 months!) out to White Marsh to pick him up. I could write a whole entry about how nice it was to drive again, to be in control of my own speed and direction, but I’m getting distracted. So, later that day, echoing an event almost a year ago, I took Seymur as I went to get a haircut. For my first haircut in Azerbaijan (I somehow made it through all of PST without one), Seymur escorted me. It was a lot of fun to return the favor, taking him to my hair place, which he found amusing because it is a “qadin salonu” or “women’s salon.” The shampoo beforehand is totally worth it. I suppose more importantly, I enjoyed sharing our Christmas traditions with him, after he has shared his family’s traditions for several holidays, particularly Novruz. It won’t be the same without him this year.
Third, though not in importance, I traveled with my girlfriend, her mother and boyfriend, to New York’s Hudson Valley Mohonk Mountain House. Started by Quakers almost 150 years ago, Mohonk is now a huge retreat in the mountains that looks like it belongs in the Alps. Each room was different, but all with amazing views of the valley on one side and the lake on the other. The building itself was really several smushed together, each with slightly different architecture and feel. The grounds sprawled out along the top of the hill, with trails going off in every direction. The first evening, fog rolled in, locking us in, evoking certain upbeat comedies such as The Shining. But when morning came, the wind had blown the fog off revealing the truly impressive views.
Even though it was windy (and I mean Windy), we went hiking through the woods, though we did pass on the ice-skating. Ice + wind = Nate falls on his butt. The place was what we’d call here “qesheng,’ meaning pretty, beautiful, fancy. Dinners were jean-less and dress shirt and jacketed. When there’s snow on the ground, there’s snowshoeing and cross-country skiing, and there’s a whole spa complex. Caroline and I tried out the pool, and I will be honest, it was cold and I didn’t want to get in, but a certain someone pulled me in against my will. What? I don’t like cold pools, especially indoor ones.
Finally, the last night. The Ravens vs. Bengals. First Caroline and her dog, Nora, and then a whole gaggle of my best friends from back home. Some brought chips, with which we made nachos, another pizza (thank you Kathryn and David). Others just brought themselves, and that was enough. As the dogs chased each other, we talked, cheered, and the Ravens won. It was above all else, completely natural for me to be there. I was home, comfortable and warm.
Thank you to all the people—both family, friends, and other—who took time out of their holiday season to see me and make me feel like I had never left. It made me feel truly blessed to have friends and relatives with whom I can pick up again after over a year as if it had been just yesterday. You are all home to me.
The second event that was memorable was sharing Christmas with my host brother, studying in Ohio for his master’s degree. The first morning I was there I drove (first time in 15 months!) out to White Marsh to pick him up. I could write a whole entry about how nice it was to drive again, to be in control of my own speed and direction, but I’m getting distracted. So, later that day, echoing an event almost a year ago, I took Seymur as I went to get a haircut. For my first haircut in Azerbaijan (I somehow made it through all of PST without one), Seymur escorted me. It was a lot of fun to return the favor, taking him to my hair place, which he found amusing because it is a “qadin salonu” or “women’s salon.” The shampoo beforehand is totally worth it. I suppose more importantly, I enjoyed sharing our Christmas traditions with him, after he has shared his family’s traditions for several holidays, particularly Novruz. It won’t be the same without him this year.
Third, though not in importance, I traveled with my girlfriend, her mother and boyfriend, to New York’s Hudson Valley Mohonk Mountain House. Started by Quakers almost 150 years ago, Mohonk is now a huge retreat in the mountains that looks like it belongs in the Alps. Each room was different, but all with amazing views of the valley on one side and the lake on the other. The building itself was really several smushed together, each with slightly different architecture and feel. The grounds sprawled out along the top of the hill, with trails going off in every direction. The first evening, fog rolled in, locking us in, evoking certain upbeat comedies such as The Shining. But when morning came, the wind had blown the fog off revealing the truly impressive views.
Even though it was windy (and I mean Windy), we went hiking through the woods, though we did pass on the ice-skating. Ice + wind = Nate falls on his butt. The place was what we’d call here “qesheng,’ meaning pretty, beautiful, fancy. Dinners were jean-less and dress shirt and jacketed. When there’s snow on the ground, there’s snowshoeing and cross-country skiing, and there’s a whole spa complex. Caroline and I tried out the pool, and I will be honest, it was cold and I didn’t want to get in, but a certain someone pulled me in against my will. What? I don’t like cold pools, especially indoor ones.
Finally, the last night. The Ravens vs. Bengals. First Caroline and her dog, Nora, and then a whole gaggle of my best friends from back home. Some brought chips, with which we made nachos, another pizza (thank you Kathryn and David). Others just brought themselves, and that was enough. As the dogs chased each other, we talked, cheered, and the Ravens won. It was above all else, completely natural for me to be there. I was home, comfortable and warm.
Thank you to all the people—both family, friends, and other—who took time out of their holiday season to see me and make me feel like I had never left. It made me feel truly blessed to have friends and relatives with whom I can pick up again after over a year as if it had been just yesterday. You are all home to me.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Where the Heart Is
There’s nothing like an eight-hour layover in Istanbul to drive one to reflection. Three flights to Baku have left since I arrived. Why I wasn’t booked on any of them is a little beyond me.
A divisive issue amongst PCVs is going home mid-service. Most volunteers leave the country, but not all go back to the United States. Many worry that going will make it too difficult to come back. Others want to take advantage of countries nearby that they wouldn’t otherwise visit. To some, going home is a sign of a lesser commitment to the Peace Corps work. When I left for Peace Corps, I did not intend to return home before the end of my service, but as time went on, the idea became more and more attractive. When was not a difficult question to answer once I had decided I liked the idea, and if I had not gone home at this time, I doubt I would have at all. The answer was Christmas. As much fun as last year was, it wasn’t Christmas.
Packing became more complicated when my host parents asked me to carry some things to their son, currently studying as part of the MUSKIE program in Ohio. And so I became a pack mule. They loaded me up with jams, chocolates, homemade vodka, honey, and other items that they felt he was most in need of and missed most. Their son had decided he would spend Christmas morning with my family, and then go down to Washington, DC, to spend the rest of the week with a former PCV, their first hostee.
As soon as I had wrapped up my school’s theater assembly, I set to packing. Intending to insure that everything made it in one piece, my host mother decided she would help. At first frustrating, I later became glad she did, because together we were better able to weigh the bags to make sure they stayed under the limits. I left the next day for Baku; worried that there might be weather (every time I’ve traveled so far this season, weather has proven difficult) I had decided to go a day early. I was also able to wrap up some last minute Christmas shopping.
Flights to and from Baku seem to be deliberately timed to be most inconvenient to those of us without personal transportation, and my flight was scheduled for 5:30am, meaning I needed to be at the airport around 3:30am. Our housing coordinator had organized a taxi to pick me up, but the driver decided he could not make it, which caused several desperate moments while I stood outside the PC office, until the housing coordinator himself showed up, to take me. Words cannot begin to explain how thankful I am to him for that kindness.
Finally through security, it came time to check my baggage. One line was shorter than the others, with what looked like just one party in front of me. Choosing this turned out to be a mistake. The party was a huge Brazilian family with small children, child seats, strollers, and about a million bags. The man working the counter seemed in no hurry to get them checked in, typing slower and slower with every passing minute. This went on for an hour. My check in took about three minutes.
The flights themselves were nondescript, but customs on the American side proved almost as taxing as the Azeri side had been. As it turns out, vodka must have a label on it; the next time I bring homemade vodka, it will be taken. To be fair, as the vodkas were in reused bottles, I think I may have gotten through with them anyway.
Stepping out of the customs/baggage claim area and being greeted by cheers from those I love filled me with the exact warmth that I hoped it would. Apparently, they had decided, after waiting for so long, that they would take the next guy that came through the gates. Glad it was me.
I had had this obviously deranged idea that there would be plenty of time to relax and rest, to walk our dog, to watch TV and enjoy high-speed wireless Internet. To go see movies and eat tons of food. This proved to be completely ridiculous. I did get to eat. A lot. I had Mexican, burgers, brisket, macaroni and cheese, bleu cheese dressing on salad, buffalo wings, steak, fresh fish, gold bar brownies, doughnuts, really just about everything that was on my list.
But I was constantly going from one place to another, seeing someone or spending time with someone else. It was hectic, tiring and absolutely perfect. Well, maybe not perfect, as I’m realizing now that there is quite a list of groceries I wanted to pick up before coming that I forgot because I was forced to cram in all my shopping on the last day.
Now I’m back in Azerbaijan. I arrived several days ago around 4:30 am, and managed to get back to the Peace Corps office via London-style tax, which actually had a meter(!). I promptly passed out on the sofa until around 8am when a couple new PCVs were rummaging around on their way back to their sites. A few hours later, when I woke up again, I got a taxi to the bus station and then headed back to Ismayilli. I woke up part way through the ride to discover the country covered in white.
It’s been warm the last few days, and the snow is quickly melting. Readjustment has been relatively easy. Having a puppy helps a lot with that. It’s worst at night, just before bed. There’s something very comforting in sleeping in one’s own bed, and without long underwear. I know I have less time to go than I have completed, that I’ve come further than I have left to walk. Just knowing that doesn’t always make it easier when the winter’s closing in and it’s getting to be time to hunker down for the season. For that reason, I will be happy to be starting up clubs again next week. I’ll be beginning a couple new clubs now that theater has finished. My main idea right now is a broad Creativity club, encompassing arts and crafts, poetry, and other similar activities. Not sure what the other club will be. Environment? Cooking? Health? I’ve got a few options. A couple kids asked me if I would be doing English clubs again, so I might just have to fall back on that old chestnut. As much fun as I have doing non-English conversation clubs, they are a big draw, and something people here often ask for and find important. So of course, I have to find the balance between doing what I want and fulfilling the needs and wants of my community and organization. But the latter is a story for another day.
A divisive issue amongst PCVs is going home mid-service. Most volunteers leave the country, but not all go back to the United States. Many worry that going will make it too difficult to come back. Others want to take advantage of countries nearby that they wouldn’t otherwise visit. To some, going home is a sign of a lesser commitment to the Peace Corps work. When I left for Peace Corps, I did not intend to return home before the end of my service, but as time went on, the idea became more and more attractive. When was not a difficult question to answer once I had decided I liked the idea, and if I had not gone home at this time, I doubt I would have at all. The answer was Christmas. As much fun as last year was, it wasn’t Christmas.
Packing became more complicated when my host parents asked me to carry some things to their son, currently studying as part of the MUSKIE program in Ohio. And so I became a pack mule. They loaded me up with jams, chocolates, homemade vodka, honey, and other items that they felt he was most in need of and missed most. Their son had decided he would spend Christmas morning with my family, and then go down to Washington, DC, to spend the rest of the week with a former PCV, their first hostee.
As soon as I had wrapped up my school’s theater assembly, I set to packing. Intending to insure that everything made it in one piece, my host mother decided she would help. At first frustrating, I later became glad she did, because together we were better able to weigh the bags to make sure they stayed under the limits. I left the next day for Baku; worried that there might be weather (every time I’ve traveled so far this season, weather has proven difficult) I had decided to go a day early. I was also able to wrap up some last minute Christmas shopping.
Flights to and from Baku seem to be deliberately timed to be most inconvenient to those of us without personal transportation, and my flight was scheduled for 5:30am, meaning I needed to be at the airport around 3:30am. Our housing coordinator had organized a taxi to pick me up, but the driver decided he could not make it, which caused several desperate moments while I stood outside the PC office, until the housing coordinator himself showed up, to take me. Words cannot begin to explain how thankful I am to him for that kindness.
Finally through security, it came time to check my baggage. One line was shorter than the others, with what looked like just one party in front of me. Choosing this turned out to be a mistake. The party was a huge Brazilian family with small children, child seats, strollers, and about a million bags. The man working the counter seemed in no hurry to get them checked in, typing slower and slower with every passing minute. This went on for an hour. My check in took about three minutes.
The flights themselves were nondescript, but customs on the American side proved almost as taxing as the Azeri side had been. As it turns out, vodka must have a label on it; the next time I bring homemade vodka, it will be taken. To be fair, as the vodkas were in reused bottles, I think I may have gotten through with them anyway.
Stepping out of the customs/baggage claim area and being greeted by cheers from those I love filled me with the exact warmth that I hoped it would. Apparently, they had decided, after waiting for so long, that they would take the next guy that came through the gates. Glad it was me.
I had had this obviously deranged idea that there would be plenty of time to relax and rest, to walk our dog, to watch TV and enjoy high-speed wireless Internet. To go see movies and eat tons of food. This proved to be completely ridiculous. I did get to eat. A lot. I had Mexican, burgers, brisket, macaroni and cheese, bleu cheese dressing on salad, buffalo wings, steak, fresh fish, gold bar brownies, doughnuts, really just about everything that was on my list.
But I was constantly going from one place to another, seeing someone or spending time with someone else. It was hectic, tiring and absolutely perfect. Well, maybe not perfect, as I’m realizing now that there is quite a list of groceries I wanted to pick up before coming that I forgot because I was forced to cram in all my shopping on the last day.
Now I’m back in Azerbaijan. I arrived several days ago around 4:30 am, and managed to get back to the Peace Corps office via London-style tax, which actually had a meter(!). I promptly passed out on the sofa until around 8am when a couple new PCVs were rummaging around on their way back to their sites. A few hours later, when I woke up again, I got a taxi to the bus station and then headed back to Ismayilli. I woke up part way through the ride to discover the country covered in white.
It’s been warm the last few days, and the snow is quickly melting. Readjustment has been relatively easy. Having a puppy helps a lot with that. It’s worst at night, just before bed. There’s something very comforting in sleeping in one’s own bed, and without long underwear. I know I have less time to go than I have completed, that I’ve come further than I have left to walk. Just knowing that doesn’t always make it easier when the winter’s closing in and it’s getting to be time to hunker down for the season. For that reason, I will be happy to be starting up clubs again next week. I’ll be beginning a couple new clubs now that theater has finished. My main idea right now is a broad Creativity club, encompassing arts and crafts, poetry, and other similar activities. Not sure what the other club will be. Environment? Cooking? Health? I’ve got a few options. A couple kids asked me if I would be doing English clubs again, so I might just have to fall back on that old chestnut. As much fun as I have doing non-English conversation clubs, they are a big draw, and something people here often ask for and find important. So of course, I have to find the balance between doing what I want and fulfilling the needs and wants of my community and organization. But the latter is a story for another day.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
A Play's the Thing
This update’s a little late, but I’ve been a little busy the last few weeks.
This fall, I decided I wanted to branch out a little from the English clubs I had mostly stuck to the first semester I was at the school. So, I put up flyers for theater clubs, one in the morning for the younger students who attend school in the afternoon, and one in the afternoon for the older kids. As with anything here, attendance varied, until we got closer to the assembly I decided to hold as a culmination of the students’ work.
With each group, I led a brainstorming session to decide on a story, and then planned setting, characters, plot, and some dialogue. Then, based on what we’d discussed, I wrote up the plays in English. The younger kids chose a folk tale called Tuk-Tuk Xanim, about an ant that is lonely and goes in search of a friend. With a little rewriting to emphasize the lesson of friends helping each other, the play was all set to go. The older kids chose an original story about vampires and werewolves, and a group of people at a school. This one took a little more molding and forming.
We faced some difficulties with rehearsals as the assembly room was often in use by others for everything from meetings to chess lessons. But rehearse we did, and as the day for the assembly grew closer, students seemed to come out of the woodwork with interest to take part. Suddenly, the shepherd had a whole flock of sheep as I attempted to find parts for the kids. Eventually, a line had to be drawn and I regrettably had to turn away some kids. One boy decided he wanted to be Santa Claus, or as he is called here, Shaxta Baba, and before I could turn him away, he showed up with a costume, gifts to present to the director and teachers which he had purchased with his own money and money he had collected from other students, and masks for the cats in the Tuk-Tuk Xanim play. Sure, he may have bought his way in, but his enthusiasm was pretty darn contagious.
The assembly day came, and I had to rush to the passport office to get my new local ID card before buying last minute supplies for the production. When at last a meeting for the parents of graduating seniors ended, we flooded into the room to decorate it for the assembly. Suddenly, there were balloons and garlands, and kids trying on their masks and practicing their lines, while others tried desperately to sneak in to watch or peak through the door. It was madness, but it was a wonderful, seasonal madness in which I couldn’t help but find myself reveling. The head of the local Education Ministry joined the school directors and teachers, and kids streamed in to fill the rest of the seats.
First up were the younger kids with Tuk-Tuk Xanim, which just about went as perfectly as I could hope. Next, a couple teachers read a dialogue they’d written with very minimal help from me about their home rayon (Ismayilli, of course). A third teacher backed out at the last minute, so his parts were scrapped. He had gotten stage fright because he didn’t think his pronunciation was good enough. He is learning, but it’s slow going as he must still write everything first as it is written and then phonetically, so he knows how to pronounce each word. Third, the older kids performed their play. It was a bit looser as they had had fewer days to practice. So much of their time is taken up with tutoring sessions to prepare them for university exams. Some days three would show up, and the next day, three different students would come. In retrospect, perhaps I rushed them a bit, but I had hoped they would put in effort at home to memorize the lines and places. The last part of the assembly was a rendition of “Jingle Bells,” while Santa and Qar Qiz (Snow Girl) came to the front of the room and gave out presents. The students were a little shaky on the verses, but when they came to the chorus, they brought the house down. Of course, no assembly is complete without a few speeches, so the school director and Education head gave their holiday greetings, thanks to myself and to the students, and words of wisdom (I presume, I didn’t follow everything). I was then ushered, along with my sitemate, who had recently returned from her medical leave, into the director’s office for tea, and the director was very kind with his compliments. And really, who doesn’t like tea and compliments?
This fall, I decided I wanted to branch out a little from the English clubs I had mostly stuck to the first semester I was at the school. So, I put up flyers for theater clubs, one in the morning for the younger students who attend school in the afternoon, and one in the afternoon for the older kids. As with anything here, attendance varied, until we got closer to the assembly I decided to hold as a culmination of the students’ work.
With each group, I led a brainstorming session to decide on a story, and then planned setting, characters, plot, and some dialogue. Then, based on what we’d discussed, I wrote up the plays in English. The younger kids chose a folk tale called Tuk-Tuk Xanim, about an ant that is lonely and goes in search of a friend. With a little rewriting to emphasize the lesson of friends helping each other, the play was all set to go. The older kids chose an original story about vampires and werewolves, and a group of people at a school. This one took a little more molding and forming.
We faced some difficulties with rehearsals as the assembly room was often in use by others for everything from meetings to chess lessons. But rehearse we did, and as the day for the assembly grew closer, students seemed to come out of the woodwork with interest to take part. Suddenly, the shepherd had a whole flock of sheep as I attempted to find parts for the kids. Eventually, a line had to be drawn and I regrettably had to turn away some kids. One boy decided he wanted to be Santa Claus, or as he is called here, Shaxta Baba, and before I could turn him away, he showed up with a costume, gifts to present to the director and teachers which he had purchased with his own money and money he had collected from other students, and masks for the cats in the Tuk-Tuk Xanim play. Sure, he may have bought his way in, but his enthusiasm was pretty darn contagious.
The assembly day came, and I had to rush to the passport office to get my new local ID card before buying last minute supplies for the production. When at last a meeting for the parents of graduating seniors ended, we flooded into the room to decorate it for the assembly. Suddenly, there were balloons and garlands, and kids trying on their masks and practicing their lines, while others tried desperately to sneak in to watch or peak through the door. It was madness, but it was a wonderful, seasonal madness in which I couldn’t help but find myself reveling. The head of the local Education Ministry joined the school directors and teachers, and kids streamed in to fill the rest of the seats.
First up were the younger kids with Tuk-Tuk Xanim, which just about went as perfectly as I could hope. Next, a couple teachers read a dialogue they’d written with very minimal help from me about their home rayon (Ismayilli, of course). A third teacher backed out at the last minute, so his parts were scrapped. He had gotten stage fright because he didn’t think his pronunciation was good enough. He is learning, but it’s slow going as he must still write everything first as it is written and then phonetically, so he knows how to pronounce each word. Third, the older kids performed their play. It was a bit looser as they had had fewer days to practice. So much of their time is taken up with tutoring sessions to prepare them for university exams. Some days three would show up, and the next day, three different students would come. In retrospect, perhaps I rushed them a bit, but I had hoped they would put in effort at home to memorize the lines and places. The last part of the assembly was a rendition of “Jingle Bells,” while Santa and Qar Qiz (Snow Girl) came to the front of the room and gave out presents. The students were a little shaky on the verses, but when they came to the chorus, they brought the house down. Of course, no assembly is complete without a few speeches, so the school director and Education head gave their holiday greetings, thanks to myself and to the students, and words of wisdom (I presume, I didn’t follow everything). I was then ushered, along with my sitemate, who had recently returned from her medical leave, into the director’s office for tea, and the director was very kind with his compliments. And really, who doesn’t like tea and compliments?
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