Coming Home (Unwillingly)

Well this just goes to show you how quickly life can change.  Little more than a week ago, I was looking forward to starting school, and had planned out all my lessons for several weeks, intending to end up with a Halloween party at the end of October.  Then, something happened.  I'm not going to air exactly what happened except to say it had little to do with me, and all the trouble was/is mental because of what I witnessed.  Anyway, DC (Washington) called me, talked with me, assessed me, and ultimately made the decision to send me back to the States for medical purposes.
   
 Needless to say, I didn't want to go.  I was just getting back into the swing of things, and now I had to go pack up and throw everything I was doing into chaos.  But, when DC says you're getting Med-evaced, that's the last word in the conversation, it's happening.  I was given a few days to pack and get everything settled, but let me tell you, 3 days is nowhere near enough time!  I was running around like a madwoman trying to pack up everything that I owned, get most of it to my sitemate to hold onto, and the rest into town so I could grab a taxi into Baku...and don't get me started on how shamefully people treated me when they thought I was a tourist!  (THEY TRIED TO CHARGE ME 20M FOR A 20 MINUTE TRIP!! ARRGGG!!!)  It should've been only 1 or 2 manat, but everyone tried to overcharge me for everything!!  Well, anyway...
   
I am coming home, hopefully for 30 days or less (Inshallah).  While I am very sad to be leaving, I know it will likely only be for a short while, and I will be able to see my family and friends in Missoula for a while, and my puppy will be able to go to America as well!  So that's my silver lining that's keeping me sane.  I will do my best to catch up my posts (I have 5 nearly finished posts I have to complete) and keep people updated on what the hell is going on.  So until then, so long! And thanks for all the fish!

I Say Restaurant, You Say Nightclub

If you've ever studied another language, you've probably found that there are words that are difficult to translate.  Sometimes this is fairly obvious and straightforward.  In Chinese, it is impossible to do direct translation from English, the languages just aren't compatible that way.  However, what about when a word is so similar to one from another language, that it seems to be almost exactly the same?  Would it ever cross your mind that their might be a very big difference between what you mean, and what you are actually saying?  Probably not.  My example of this little problem of linguistics is the word 'restaurant'.  In Azerbaijani, the word for 'restaurant' is restauran'.  Simple, yes? Restaurant to restauran, it's so easy! Anyway, that's what I thought.

     So now, a bit of background.  Women in Azerbaijan don't go to restaurants.  It's 'Olmaz', or forbidden.  This is followed more in the villages and small towns than in the big cities, but still, women in general don't go out to eat.  If they did and someone saw them, they would be shamed to within an inch of their life, and could quite possibly face more serious repercussions from their male relatives or husband.  With this in mind, I haven't asked my counterparts (both women) to eat with me at the only restaurant/bakery in Agdash where it is ok for women to sit at.  But, when we were in Baku, far away from their families and neighbors, I asked one of them to join us (myself and some other volunteers) at a small sit down restaurant for dinner.  At first she said yes, and we were all ready to go.  But at the end of the day, she came up to me and begged to not have to go to the restaurant with me.  She was nearly crying she was so nervous.  I told her of course she didn't have to go, and she practically ran out of the conference room.  I was left shaking my head.
     After that, I had many, many discussions about going to a restaurant with her before I left at the end of my service.  And always got the same, vague, "Ok" that really means, "I'm agreeing right now but there's no way in Hell I'm going to actually do it."  I get Ok'd a lot.  And it seems to cover numerous occasions.  Ranging from "We need to plan some lessons." "Oh, Ok" to "We need to go to Agdash to get some school supplies." "Ok."  and even to "I feel ill, can you help me get a taxi? "Yes, ok."  It basically signifies that it's all on you, from start to finish.  They'll help you out when it's gift wrapped.  Anyway, it was starting to get ridiculous, even after I told her I hoped to have both my counterparts, my host sisters, and my host mothers along as well.  Well, just recently, I was talking about restaurants again and my anthropology training all of a sudden kicked in, and I asked her, "What is a restaurant?"  This is the best question I could have asked.  And it showed me just how differently a word can be perceived in different cultures.
     What was a restaurant?  In her words, a restaurant is a place where "Men and women, drink alcohol, dance together, kiss, do very bad things." I could barely get words out at first after she said that.  And when I did, it was a strong assertment that restaurants are NOT like that.  That what she was thinking of essentially a nightclub, and to me, a "restaurant" was just a place to go eat food.  There was a lot of incredulous and nervous laughing after that, as we came to grips with what "restaurant" actually meant to each of us.  However, as we started to quiet down, one thing came up, something that had really thrown me, though it didn't hit me right away, was that she actually thought that I of all people would go to a place like that.
     In Azerbaijan, a woman's reputation is her treasure, and that my own counterpart would think that I would not only go to such a place (She knows my positions on men, alcohol, and such), but that I would be so insensitive as to ask her to go to such a place, really hit me hard.  I have made my boundaries here clear, and even though they do cut across some cultural mores, I think they give a good idea of who I am.  I do not tolerate people beating children, especially in my classroom.  I do not tolerate people harming animals, (especially dogs and cats) in any way.  And I do not tolerate people harming others, whether mentally or physically.  I value my privacy, my independence, and my ability to say 'no'.  It makes me wonder, are these core ideals of myself so outside the culture here that my counterpart would look at them, look at me, and decide that I could be a 'bad girl'?  I have given up a lot of my ways and beliefs, stripped down my soul just to survive here, with the only things left being those that I refuse to compromise on.  Those things that truly make me me.  To be the kind of 'good Azeri girl' I can tell they want me to be, would strip out everything that meant anything to me.  As of yet, I haven't gotten a satisfactory answer from either her, or from myself, as to why she could have thought such a thing. Though I will say, she recently told me that she would go to a restaurant in Baku with me when I leave, I said, "Ok".

Picture Time!

2 and 1/2 months...I'm embarrassed, I admit it.  I really fell behind on my posting, and I have no excuse except that it's hot and getting decent internet requires a 20 minute walk in the sun.  Sorry, but again, I'm going to try my best to keep this up (again).  I think that whenever I am falling way behind on my posts, I'm just going to start posting pictures with little blurbs.  People like pictures right?

So lets start this.

This is me in an Peace Corps car.  Notice how I have a seatbelt? And space next to me? And it even had air conditioning!  Ahhh, Bliss.  The ride in this car was 4 hours of pure joy.

     This is myself, my counterpart, and my sub-director with my 5th B class.  Actually, most of the classes wanted pictures with me, even the ones I didn't teach!

Me and my puppies! Wookie (brown) and Chai (black). (Oh, and my host sister Minara, who is apparently giving Wookie bunny ears.)

My host aunt and her daughter came over, and my host aunt took off her hijab (head scarf) to do some work around the house.  As they were getting ready to go, she couldn't find her hijab.  After 15 minutes of turning the house upside down, we see her daughter frolicking in the garden with her mothers' hijab on her head!  After another 5 minutes of chasing her daughter around, we finally caught her and she had to give her mom her headscarf back.  As you can see, she wasn't very happy with being caught. 

*sigh* This is what happens when Peace Corp Volunteers get together.  TOTAL CHAOS!!

Another Volunteer (Parker) pleading before the judges (also known as Emilia and Luz) in regards to his inability to find the correct pan needed to cook meatballs.  As you can see, Judge Emilia is not impressed.

On the last day of school, we played lots of English games.  In this one, I blindfolded the kids, gave them an object, and they had to figure out what it was.  This one was a scrubbie, which the boys had no idea what it was.  (The girls were all laughing.)

Bread is considered sacred in Azerbaijan.  You don't throw it in the trash, if you see a piece on the ground you put it someplace higher, and if you drop it, you kiss it and touch it to your forehead 3 times.  That being said, I have no idea why a piece of bread is tied to a chair on the sidewalk.

My 1st and 3rd form students surprised my for my birthday!  They baked me a cake, and gave me presents!  It was great!

This is normally what happens in the evenings at my house.  Everyone gets together and plays soccer or volleyball, or some sort of ball game.

My 1st form students getting ready to perform "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes".  They dressed "American Style" for the song.  "American" being jeans, white button-down shirts, and "Cowboy hats".  

My counterpart Durdana and myself.  

This is an amazing shop in the Old City of Baku.  It's a bit out of my price range, but they have beautiful stuff.    I however, know another merchant who has much better prices and who I have gotten to the point of being able to sit down and have tea with him, which in turn increases my bargaining power, allowing me to get even  better prices.  I love bargianing!

For some unknown reason, even though we are the tenth group in Azerbaijan (AZ10's) the AZ11's got the 10 year anniversery at their swearing in.  I don't care what they say though, that 10 year anniversary it ours, you understand!  OURS!  AND NO ONE ELSE CAN HAVE IT!  

Me on one of the roads in Sumgayit.  I think it's a pretty picture anyway.

Baku...I'd be lying if I didn't say that parts of Azerbaijan remind me of Mos Eisley. 

     So that's what I've got for right now!  I've got decent internet for about a week, so I'll try and get another one or two up this week.  Take Care!

Azeri Transportation (or, How the H*** Am I Supposed To Get Anywhere?)

     I live in a village...a small village.  A village small enough that walking is the most reliable form of transportation.  I'm only 10 minutes outside of town, but those 10 minutes put a lot of distance between here and there.  In my first days here, I thought I was in the middle of nowhere, though I later found out I was only on the edge of nowhere, at the very far end of the village.  Now I was (and still am) a decent way from my school, and my host family would drive me to school every morning, and drive me back every afternoon, but if I wanted to get to school at a different time, or go to someone's house (not that I knew anyone at that point) or go to Agdash (the city), I was at the mercy of fate and Azeri time, both of which can drive a person to madness.  So, obviously, I needed to figure out transportation; and since then, I've had some enlightening and somewhat crazy experiences.

PCV's On A Bus!

   IN A CITY
If you happen to be in a city in Azerbaijan, you'r in luck!  You actually have transportation!  More than that, you might even have more than one option!  In Baku, besides having an airport and train station, you can get most anywhere using anything from the metro (subway) to buses, taxis, marshrutkas, heck, even bikes (if you're crazy enough to bike in Baku traffic).  In smaller cities like Sumgayit, you still have a number of options, and there are usually lots of bus routes, marshrutkas, and the inevitable taxi.  And there are usually enough of them that the wait is usually only a few minutes.  All in all, you are probably in the best position to be able to get somewhere if you are in a city.

A City (Baku)

   IN A TOWN
If you are in a town (or a small city) then you usually have less options.  Maybe 3-4 marshutka routes that cover the main part of the city, and a few marshutkas that run outside the town to villages.  If you need to get somewhere the marshutkas don't go, you can either catch a taxi (which are numerous) or walk, since the towns usually aren't incredibly large.  You might have to wait a while, (say 15-45 minutes or more) but you can usually get to where you are going without too much hassle.

A Town (Agdash)

   
     IN A VILLAGE
This is where I am, and the transportation options are pretty spare.  There are no taxi's in small villages unless they are dropping someone off from a nearby town.  If you are very lucky, you might be able to grab one on it's way out of the village, but this is rare and not to be depended upon.  The main way to get from one place to another is either to walk to go in a car with your family (should they have a car).  If they don't, well tough, you're going to need some good (mud-proof) boots, and preferably either a knee-length skirt or pants that end at least an inch above the ground. If you need to get out of the village, it's probably going to be a bit hard, and something you have to plan out in advance.  There might be a marshutka to the nearest town or city, but it likely only runs a few times a day. (I'm lucky in that the marshutka in my village goes to Agdash 6 times a day, but the last one is at 5pm)  So this is where all that guesting and networking comes into play.  The most common way I've found to get out of the village (and even around the village) is to know people, because in a small village, everyone knows everyone else.  I found out when the kids in my village catch a marshutka into Agdash, and will occasionally catch a ride with them; other times, I just go out to the main road and wait until someone heading into town stops.  I don't recommend this method for anything other than a small village, and not until you are known in the community, but once you are known, lots of people from the village will usually pull over and ask if you need a ride. (For women, proper young men won't stop unless they know you, so if a young man you don't know stops and asks if you want a ride, say NO.)

A Village (Dahna)

    INTER-RAYON TRAVEL

If you are in Baku, you can probably get just about anywhere using either the train or the avtovagzal (bus station) but all other areas have a pretty sparse schedule, (Only exception is if you are going to Baku from one of the larger cities, they usually have a decent schedule for that) There is no good way to know when a bus or marshutka is either arriving or leaving unless you have the driver's number.  If you can find a local who is able to call around and find out when, then that's your best bet.  However, something to keep in mind is that if you look on a map, and see two cities close together, that doesn't necessarily mean it's easy to get to.  For me, Agsu and Goycay are relatively close to me on a map, and it looks like there's a road connecting all three cities, but in practice, you have to catch a bus down to the main highway, then another one towards the direction your going, then another one going up to the city you're trying to visit.  Overall, travel is a lot more difficult here than in North America or Europe, but it can be done with some planning and patience.
 P.S. A note of caution: Don't travel around Novruz or Yeni-il if you can help it.  These are huge holidays here, and everyone is traveling.  Also, Azeri's don't line up, ever, if they are trying to get on a bus or marshutka they just rush the door, and with the crowds you get at Novruz and Yeni-il, if you want to get on, you have to literally elbow your way past all the others trying to get on and unashamedly claw your way into the vehicle.  It is not for the faint of heart.
  Keep Calm and Carry On,
      Aven

Pictures and Randomness!

So just because I can, here's a few random pictures from my life here, and some commentary on them.

So, 

My host mother's brother was coming back from Russia after 20 years, and during that time, their father had died.  So they threw a (very belated) mourning for the father so his son could attend.  This is a view from the women's room, with food laid out on a runner across the floor, and pillows for people to sit on.

Part of my 1st form class, waving to America.  :)

My host fam knows I like to take pictures, so they usually take me with when they think I might find something interesting.  In this case, it was collecting firewood.  I helped out, and my little host brother took pictures.

A traditional meal that I often get when I go 'guesting' at someones house.  I can never finish all the food they give me.

My host mom and I making dolma, (rice and meat wrapped in grape leaves) and looking at my host brother skeptically as he tries to take a picture.

Part of The Family over at the house.  The Grandmother really likes me, and you can see her telling me to stop taking pictures and come sit down beside her, heh. :)

My Consolidation Cluster, otherwise known as the people I will have to be with if Peace Corps has to evacuate the country.  We had a practice drill that was necessary but very inconvenient.  Though I did get some nice photos.

So yeah, that's what I got.  I'll put up more useful info next time, but this should tide (the 2 or so of you who read this) over until next time.  See ya!

Cause of Death: Not Wearing Slippers

     Let me tell you a little about one of the most interesting cultural fixations Azeri's have; fear of the cold.  I don't mean they are afraid of Winter or of it snowing, no, they are afraid of things like cold water, any food that might be below room temperature, and cold floors, hence the fixation with wearing slippers (or at least socks) in the house at all times, especially in the winter.  In fact, in winter, if you walk around the house barefoot, they pretty much assume you are going to die, cause of death: not wearing slippers!

Proper Azeri slipper-wearing

     Many are convinced that if you get sick, it's because at some point, you got cold.  You ate something cold, or maybe you took two showers that week, and it was too much for your body to handle.  All Peace Corps Volunteers have stories about running into this particular cultural barrier, and we all handle it a bit differently.  My PC neighbour during training was constantly told by her host mother that taking a shower every other day was bad for her health, but she ignored it and just made sure her hair was dry before heading out of the house.  I apparently have been given a waiver to the "cold will kill you' rule, as I have demonstrated repeatedly to my family that I can eat cold things and not keel over.  However, just because I can eat cold things, doesn't mean they can, and one moment that illustrated this perfectly was when I was eating a yogurt cup.  It was cold, fresh out of the fridge, and my family was fine with this, but when my host sister went and got the same yogurt cup and started eating it, she got yelled at for it being too cold.  She had to put it next to the peche (fire) to warm it up before she could eat it.

Certain Death!

     I can actually see where this came from, and it makes sense.  Back in the day, water running through towns and villages was dirty (most Medieval Europeans didn't drink water at all, for the same reason) and if you drank it, you got sick.  But someone figured out that if you made the water hot (boiled it), you didn't get sick.  Probably why tea is so popular.  However, that was carried over to the assumption that it must be the cold that made you ill.  Hence, today, even things like pop and mayo are warmed up before they are consumed, and every Azeri I've seen in the village is wearing multiple layers, a coat, a scarf, a hat, etc.., and they look at me all aghast when I take my coat off 'cause I feel way to warm.  They also think Americans are crazy for drinking water with ice in it.  (ICE! Certain Death Awaits!)  I am planning on eventually doing a basic health presentation in the village, and I think I will bring up the whole 'cold water will kill you' deal, and see what kind of discussion ensues.  Ah, well.  I'm off to tempt fate by taking a shower.  Take Care All! Stay Warm!

The Music of Peace Corps

   

Ah Beloit, you gave me so much good music

     Ok, this may seem like a strange topic, but I've noticed that music plays a really important part in surviving Peace Corps.  My mother, a Peace Corps Volunteer in Nepal back in the late 70's, often told me about how she would always ask her sitemate (who had a guitar) to play Jethro Tull's 'Locomotive Breath'.  To this day she loves that song, and it reminds her of her time in PC.  For me, the two songs that so far are my "Peace Corps Songs", are 'Some Nights' by Fun, and 'Gangnam Style" by PSY.  

     I know at least some of you groaned when you saw 'Gangnam Style', but what can I say?  It's everywhere!  I see it on T.V. hear it on the news, on commercials, on telephones, and my host brother is obsessed with the song, and sings it constantly.  So yeah, I will always think of Azerbaijan when I hear that song in future.  'Some Nights' just feels like America to me.  I'm not very patriotic and definitely not nationalistic; but the fact remains that America is where I grew up, and that music makes me think of a warm summer night in the Midwest.  It makes me relax and just seems to say, "home", when I am anywhere but.  Anybody else have special travel/Peace Corps music? 

Planting Trees I Will Never Sit Under

  It's been a month, but I'm finally starting to get a handle on my classes.  How each of them works, which students pay attention and which would rather be somewhere else, and how my counterparts like to teach.  I have only just started getting a foothold in the classroom, and at the moment I'm mostly focusing on English games, but really hope to expand.  The problem that I am running into is that I am in a small village, near a big (ish) town, and that town has some very good schools in it.  Anyone who can send their kids to Agdash, does.  That being said, the kids I have in my school are enthusiastic, and most of them do try in class, but they just don't have the same level of English that you find in towns and cities.  Somewhat compounding the problem is the fact they they have been taught by the Grammar-Translation method; meaning that they only learn English grammar and translate text from English to Azerbaijani.  So they know our grammar better than I do, and can usually translate a decent amount of text, but they can't actually speak.  For example, They can translate "Tell me about your family.", but they can't actually answer, or talk about their family.

One of my 5th grade classes

     I've been studying each class to find ways to try and get students to start practice talking, and actually start using the language, and I'm starting to lay the groundwork that will hopefully bear some small fruit in 2-years time.  One of my younger classes has a fair amount of students who don't have books, so those students pretty much ignore most of class, since it's all from the book.  For them, I've been doing a lot of hangman, which is starting to draw those dispassionate students into the discussion.  From there, I hope to move to more movement-based activities, which aren't in the book.  That should make it a bit easier for everyone to follow along, and that class needs to be more physically involved; too many students just sit there until I bring in an activity. (Side note: The kids have never really done classroom activities that require them to move around the classroom, or work with others, or be abstract, so it's a bit chaotic at first, because they can't fathom what they heck they are supposed to do.  But they're slowly getting it, and it makes for an interesting observation)((God, I am such and anthropologist))
     Another class has been frustrating me for ages, but today I finally made a connection, and found out that they love competitive games.  Splitting the class into two large groups, and delegating a speaker for each group made them all work together, especially after I told them that if anyone besides the speaker yelled out the answer, the other team automatically got the question.  Again, it took a while for them to realize that they could all come together and talk to come up with an answer, but after awhile, they were all huddling together and madly discussing possible answers, even if the other team had the question.  It was a great class, and I will definitely do more competitive games in that class; eventually (hopefully) by the time I leave, I would like to be able to pose a question and have them answer in complex sentences.
     I keep looking at what other volunteers are doing, and so many of them are doing great and amazing things, and I wish I could do what they are, but I also know that I have a different situation than what they might have.  I don't have access to magazines, or empty school buildings, or even coloured paper and scissors.  My resources are the students, teachers, and my own mind, which admittedly makes things a bit difficult, (especially since I'm such an introvert) but hopefully it will also mean that whatever changes I make here will be permanent and sustainable, since it's going to have to come from the people, rather than something I buy or bring in from outside.  Only time will tell, but I can only hope that what I do here will have some kind of lasting impact for the better.  Guess it goes with that old saying, "Society grows great when old men plant seeds for trees they never expect to sit under."  We never know what seeds we plant, since we won't be around to see what our impact will be.  We just do our best and hope it all turns out better than it would've been.

The Week in Highlights

     This week I'm just going to give a few of the highlights I found in the multiple rounds of guesting and feasting that go with the holiday. Also, apparently if you are in the Peace Corps, you can't use the Peace Corps logo on your blog, and since one of my posts had the logo with it, someone came in and removed the picture from it.  So I will eventually be designing and putting up my own version of the Peace Corps logo so I can have some kind of representation of it on here.  Any input on design ideas would be welcome.  But moving on, here are the things that I found interesting this week.

1. Family Interactions - I went guesting so many times, I believe my record now stands at 7 different houses within a 3 day period.  So I met lots of family, most of whom I still don't know.  But there were some good moments that came out of that.  My extended host family trying to teach the little kids to call me "bibi" (Aunt) is so far my favorite.  Following close behind that is the 'Battle of the Paklava (Baklava)', where they tried to get me to say which person's paklava was better, my host father's first wife's, or his current wife's.  I refused to answer until it was made clear that I had to if I ever wanted them to let me up from the table.  So I told them...in English.  I had the whole table rolling with laughter (and some frustration) as they tried to get me to admit which one was better, even calling in people who knew a little English (like my host sister) to try and figure out what I was saying.  I just spoke fast, and refused to answer in Azeri.  My family still is trying to find out what I said. (Though as we left, I whispered the answer to the wife I thought made the best paklava, and she burst out laughing, then acted all innocent about what I had said. *grin*)

2. The New Years Celebration - In America, New Years usually means New Years Eve on December 31st (to party), and New Years Day on January 1st (to recover).  Here, the celebration only starts on December 31st, and then it goes for days.  Mostly this means lots of guesting and tonnes of food.  Though if there are younger kids, going out to get their picture taken in front of the New Year tree with Shaxta Baba (Santa Claus) and Qar Qiz (Snow Girl) is pretty common.  There's also staying up 'till midnight on Dec 31st, as most people seem to do 'round the world, and setting off fireworks.  In my house, this also included shooting off a double barreled shotgun (flares and buckshot), which greatly amused my family since I don't like guns, not at all.  They have found out that I won't allow anyone to aim a toy gun at me or pretend to shoot me with their fingers, and if they ask why, my basic response is, "Americada choxlu adami va usaqlar olub.  Cox pis." Which basically means that lots of people die from being shot in America, and it's very bad.  So of course I stand far back out of the way when the gun is loaded, and my host fam laughs but usually says that it is good that I am careful.

3. Decorating My Room - Pretty much everyone in my family (and my good friends) know that I need to decorate my room.  I have done everything from covering the walls of my dorm with maps, scarves, and Christmas lights, to painting my room to look like an Indian Palace (complete with a painted 'window' looking out into a starry sky) and having a sari hung over my bed.  So it shouldn't be a suprise to anyone that I brought 6 framed pieces of art, a wall scroll, a T.A.R.D.I.S. magnet, a Japanese doll, my kayaking Santa ornament, some calendars, and my Chinese box (with my ink pad and name seal) to Azerbaijan.  For the longest time, I didn't have anything up because the paint here is so brittle, any form of tape will pull it off.  But this week, I finally decided to put everything up!  I had to put everything on the windows (and windowsill) and door because the tape wouldn't damage the wood, but I am quite pleased with the result, and feel much more at home now that the room reflects a bit more of my personality. (And my little T.A.R.D.I.S. magnet on my door handle just makes me happy!)

An example from my last room; Sparkle Cthulhu sitting in the Holy Grail.

(Yeah, my rooms are like that) 

4. Spiders - I hate spiders. No, I take that back, I hate spiders that are on me, near me, or just look downright freaky.  Unfortunately, there are lots of spiders in my house, as in, I see at least 5+ a day.  Most of them look kind of like daddy longlegs, and I'm fine with those as long as they stay off of me.  But then there are little (or big) black spiders with a big body, thick, short legs, and huge fangs that have a habit of hanging down from the ceiling and looking incredibly scary to me.  A few nights ago, my host ana (mom) asked me to brush a spider off the wall.  I did, but didn't kill it since it was the longlegged kind that I wasn't afraid of.  My host ana then pointed at my coat, and said I should take it off since I was inside; however, what I thought she was saying was that there was a spider on me.  I screamed.  And also threw my coat across the room. My ana, after a second of shock, started laughing hysterically, and didn't stop for almost 5 minutes.  My host ata (father) later said I almost gave him a heart attack.  My host sibs were just laughing.  Thus they discovered my arachnophobia.  In fact, the next day, I killed two of the little black buggers in my room by throwing books at them, and squashing them on the wall.  The loud "BANG" of the books hitting the wall brought my host sister, who again, doubled over in laughter, but helped me remove the squashed spiders. (I've been told that is Islamic culture, spiders are seen as protectors.  I said they can protect me from outside my room.)

5. Language Problems - This one is a bit unique.  There is a family friend who stops by often, and he likes to practice his English by talking to me, and somehow was also was given my cell phone #.  Anyway, he is a decent enough guy, though he tries to talk about God, humanity, philosophy, and basically lots of things that are way beyond his level of English.  So of course lots of things that he tries to say get garbled and lost in translation.  Well, I woke up one day to find a text on my phone from him, and it read like this, "to you most beautiful my present yourself give to yourself"...which made no sense. But it did raise a fair amount of wariness on my part (this combined with other things that he had said).  So when he came over later that day, I avoided him.  In fact I managed to avoid him pretty successfully for several hours.  Unfortunately, in Azerbaijan, there is no way for you to say, "Oh, I don't feel so comfortable by that person." without everyone asking why, and usually pulling the person over while telling everyone they can that you don't like that person (It just gets more awkward from there).  So when my host sister came and pulled me out of my room and said, "Here, Abdullah." I really couldn't get out of it.  So I sighed and grabbed my computer, pulling up Google translate.  He wanted to know why I hadn't texted him back, and why I kept 'running away' from him. Well, long story short, I used Google translate to outline why I was avoiding him, and my thoughts, and my response if that was the case.  After much explanation, he finally understood what I was saying, and backed way, way, off.  He apologized profusely, and said he never meant to say anything of that sort, and etc...  Anyway, now that has been settled, though it did lead to another awkward conversation about sexual innuendos and why you shouldn't say some innocuous-sounding phrases (ex. turned on) because of the cultural context.  Needless to say, he has studiously avoided all such phrases since then. (Though I still don't know what he was trying to say in that text.)

7. Gifts - This one is just flat out strange.  Apparently giving someone underwear (even lingerie-type underwear) is an acceptable gift between two women.  I have personally received a pair of with sparkly flowers (from my host mother), and another pair with bows and lace (from my female counterpart).  Other female PCV's have received similar gifts, and even though we agree there isn't anything improper about it in this culture (apparently), it's just seems so weird to us.  Soooo, yeah.

A Consideration of Airplaines

     During PST I remember standing outside a friend’s house, my hand on the door handle, but not opening the door.  I was staring at the sky, completely enraptured.  I was watching the stars in a cloudless sky wink and glimmer, the moon cast light onto a white and blue plastered wall, and filtered down through an overarching arbor of grape leaves.  But was really caught my eye was a set of evenly spaced blinking lights in the sky, heading south-east at a leisurely pace; an airplane.  In Missoula, I lived next to an airport and saw planes landing every day, usually flying fairly low over the house.  There really wasn't any magic or mystery to them; they were simply bringing people or materials to Middle-of-Nowhere, Montana, and  I never really felt intrigued by them; perhaps because they were so frequent and represented nothing more than more than returning to a place I felt little love for. 

                                                                                      Credit: Raven                         

     But here, in Azerbaijan, in what many people still refer to as, ‘The Orient’,  I could tell that the plane now flying over me was headed out over the Caspian, bound toward the South Seas, and someplace infinitely more exotic sounding than, “Sumgayit”; which was the location of the small, beautiful, though less exotic  yard in which I stood.  It was also only the second plane I had seen since arriving in this lesser-known part of the world to become a Peace Corps volunteer.  And now, looking up at the plane making its smooth track across the star fields, I wanted nothing more than to be in it, heading towards some unknown destination, and away from the terrifying task that lay ahead of me.  In that way, the blinking lights in the sky captured me and my mind absolutely.  Airplanes seemed a much more mysterious phenomenon than a simple means of transportation.  They represented escape, the thrill of the unknown, and the possibility of new and different people and places.

     I look back on that moment, now with some experience in the village that had so terrified me, and see it in a new light.  In representing escape, it also represented a release of responsibility; specifically, the responsibility of teaching children (and adults) English in my village for two years, the responsibilities of coming up with activities and helping implement programs in my site, as well as representing America, Peace Corps, and myself to the general populace   That weight still drags me down, and I still struggle to deal with the expectations that go along with the acceptance of those obligations.  But at the same time, I understand that you can't run from what scares you forever.  You have to eventually face those fears and move forward with your life; essentially, you have to grow up and accept the duties of adulthood.  At this point, i'm just moving myself forward through sheer willpower, focusing on the day-to-day minutiae that helps me keep putting one foot in front of the other.  I am still scared, and still need small escapes to keep myself from turning and running, but slowly, i'm building up confidence in both myself and my abilities.  And the next time I get on a plane, it won't be to escape from something that scares me, put to head off towards something that does.  In that way, I will keep moving forward in my life; and in that way I will go the only way worth going in life.  Up.

                                                                              Credit: Ajay Talwar

An Azerbaijani Christmas

     So I have now had my first Christmas in Azerbaijan, and I will admit, I was a bit disappointed.  Apparently, most PCV's get together and celebrate at one person's house; but unfortunately for the Agdash region, there isn't really anyone close to celebrate with.  Also, the person we usually go over to see, was out of site.  So be that as it may, I had a reaaaallly interesting day.  I planned out some Christmas lessons for my classes, and got some pictures of Chrismassy stuff to show them, as well as some Christmas music to listen to.  I taught 5th grade (a + b) and they loved it, especially when I showed pictures of my family at Christmas back in the States.  My 7th grade class went a bit catty-wampus though.

   Christmas!

     See, I ran into a guy in the teacher's room who wanted to learn English, I talked a bit about Peace Corps and what I was doing, and then left to go to my 4th form class.  While I'm watching and waiting for my turn, the same guy comes into the class, and comes over and starts talking to me while class is going on.  I'm a bit wary at this point, and when he says he wants me to teach him English, I just tell him that I'll be doing conversation clubs in the Spring and Summer, and he should look up English programs in Baku (since he lives there) He stays and talks to me all through the lesson though, up until I get up to teach, then he watches me teach.  As soon as the bell rings, I escape, and head off to 7th grade.  Unfortunately, my co-teacher, Durdana, is nowhere to be found.  Apparently she had to go do something in Agdash, and she'll be late to the class.  Ok, fine, I can start and then have her take over when she comes back, right?
     Well I start my Christmas shtick, cutting out the more complicated things since I don't have a translator, when who should walk in but the same guy!! This time he has another teacher with him, and they both come in and sit in my class.  I keep going, writing Christmas vocab on the board and having the kids figure out how to translate it into Azeri, (I show pictures to help) except that this time, the guy and the teacher keep answering, or tell the students the answer (sometimes the wrong answer), and when I ask for a student to come up and try to write the correct Azerbaijani word next to the English one (without help from the pictures) the teacher instead gets up and writes them all for the students.  I'm as flustered as the students are, so I switch tracks, and start talking about Christmas as a family holiday, and explain how Families don't all live near each other like in Azerbaijan.  That little cultural lesson went rather well, and as soon as class is done, I bolt, grab my stuff, and head out.  Except that as I head out the door, the same guy follows me out and says he wants me to teach him English every day.
     By this point I am thoroughly creeped out, and trying to get away.  I tell him I have to go home, he says he'll go with me.  I tell him I have a car coming to get me, he doesn't understand, but says he'll drive me in his car.  Luckily, my host brother shows up and takes me over to the car where my host mother (and her driver) are waiting for me.  Thus, the car is full, and the guy turns around and starts talking to some other teachers, asking about me.  I tell my host mother (as best I could) that there was a guy following me and asking about English lessons.  She nods and off we go.
     We get back to the house, I pull up some Christmas music and the Mythbusters Christmas Special, and just lay back until dinner.  At dinner, my host father gave me a Christmas gift of a chocolate bar (80% cacao) and some socks, my host brother gave me some candy and a punch out figure of a women looking like an alien from the 1970's (needless to say, I love it!)  I was happy and went back to watch some more Mythbusters when suddenly, they called me out to meet one of their older brother's friends.  IT WAS THE SAME GUY from my school!!  At this point I just gave up and talked to him for about 2 hours, and gave him simple dialogues, like "Talk about yourself" or "What's Baku like?", but he kept skewing them to topics like God, consumerism, and the human condition.  Which are topics far too complex for his level of English. (And my level of Azerbaijani)  After he left, I headed to bed, but was stopped by Minara (my host sister) asking me to quiz her on her English.  I did a few words, but she was struggling, so I told her to study them, and I'd test her quickly tomorrow.
     I headed to bed again, when my host mom stopped me and covertly gave me her Christmas gift, a pair of underwear with sparkly roses on them. (Is this common here? I've been given socks, bras, and underwear as gifts since I got here, which I find kind of strange) Finally I got to my room, only to be followed in by my other host sister asking me to help her with an exam.  I tried to say I was tired, I had to go to bed, etc... But she just moved some stuff and sat down. *sigh* I helped her with 10 problems before she noticed that I my eyes were closing and I was nodding off.  She said good night and left.  I climbed into bed and finished the last 5 min of Mythbusters, and was about to close down when suddenly, my dad popped up on Skype.
     It being Christmas, I tried to get on for a moment to tell them Merry Christmas.  O. M. G...  Ok, I admit, I was ragged by that point, I had had a long, difficult day of being followed and everyone wanting me to teach them English. I jumped on Skype and called them, and as soon as my sister answered, I practically yelled, "Type!! Just type or we'll get disconnected!"  I then started typing to them, only for them to keep talking, saying, "I can't hear you. Katie?  How come you're not saying anything?" I told them, "Type!  Type to me!" And then, unsurprisingly, we were disconnected. This pattern repeated itself for about 20 minutes, by then end of which, I was typing over and over, begging, swearing, for them to Please, pleasepleasepleasefortheloveofGod just TYPE!  I was ready to scream and just shut it off when by a miracle, they started TYPING!! Yes!  After that, I was able to talk to my family, and I will admit, that was a nice way to end the day and relieve my stress (Thank God my mom is a RPCV).
     Next year, I plan to spend the day with other PCV's, and have hot chocolate, and presents, and a tree, etc...  I am kind of sad that my Christmas was so stressful, but admittedly, I won't be forgetting it anytime soon.  And, as much as I hate to admit it...it'll make a great story for next Christmas.  Good Night to all and a Happy New Year!

Overview of Azerbaijan

(This post is just going to be a quick overview of where I am, what it's like, and what I'm doing.)

  Where I am:
     Sumgayit, Azerbaijan (Now Agdash, Azerbaijan)
  Why?
     Peace Corps - TEFL program (Teaching English)
  Where is Azerbaijan?
     Azerbaijan is boardered by Russia to the North, Iran to the South, Georgia and Armania to the West, and the Caspian Sea to the East.
  Quick History of Azerbaijan:
     Considered part of Eastern Europe, Central Asia, and the Middle East, it is a post-Soviet republic and now does quite a bit of oil work.  It is (tecnically) the birthplace of Zoastrianism, and known as "The Land of Fire".  It is an ancient land, with petroglyphs that date back to the paleolithic era, lots of Zoastrian shrines that date back to 6000 BC, and is the farthest east that the Romans ever went.  It has over time, been an independant area, been under the control of the Ottoman Empire, The Iranian Shah, and (after briefly attaining independance in 1918 for about 8 months) was invaded by Russia and made a part of the Soviet Union, eventually gaining independance in 1992. It is a secular Muslim country and has good relations with the U.S. and Israel, with a focus on business.   (And to answer the most common question I get from back home; No, I don't have to wear a headscarf.)

 

I am currently in PST, or Peace Corps Training, and I am a Peace Corps Trainee, to become a full Peace Corps Volunteer after Swearing In.  Peace Corps has 3 programs in Azerbaijan; TEFL, Youth Development, and Community Development.  My program, TEFL, places American teachers in Azerbaijani schools to help teach English and advance understanding of America and Americans.  I have language class for 4 hours a day,5- 6 days a week, and technical training for roughly the same amount of time.
 (Update)  I am currently a PCV, or Peace Corps Volunteer, working in a small village in the Agdash region.  I have 16 hours of classes, and teach forms 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, and 8. I work in a small school of about 250 students, and have 2 counterparts (fellow English teachers) that I work with. I live with a local host family and at the moment don't know too many people, but hopefully the longer I am here, the more that will change.

If you have any questions for me, please leave a comment and I'll do my best to answer them!

Peace Out

     Hey Look! I finally posted!  Soooo a lot has happened since my last post, and things that have been stuck in limbo for years all of a sudden decided to sort themselves out, grab me by the collar, and chuck me headfirst into LIFE. No, not the board game, that thing that I've been waiting to start for the past 4 years (ever since I was exiled to Montana).
     So, you may be wondering what it is that finally kick started my life again?  What was it?  I FINALLY (finallyfinallyfinally!!) received a notice in the mail from the Peace Corps, inviting me to serve in Azerbaijan, and asking if I wanted to continue............DID I WANT TO CONTINUE?!  Ever since I got out of college, this is all I've focused on!  In order to complete all the requirements, I've had to volunteer in 6 different jobs, (from delivering coffee and newspapers to every patient in the local hospital, to building sets and costumes for local theatre, to actually scraping out every cent in my savings and begging donations from family and friends in order to go to Ecuador to volunteer teach.  All of this so I could fill the PC requirements 3 times over) had to get more than $2000 worth of dental work in order to be considered, had to have a surgery (that cost more than I like remembering) that 3 different doctors attested that I didn't need because PC wouldn't allow one little box go unchecked, even with 3 different doctors signing off on the fact that it was unnecessary, and lastly, having my mother pull strings and call in favours to so many people that I'm pretty sure I'm in debt to the majority of Missoulas' medical community as well as to most of the RPCV's in the area(including MY MOTHER).  I've spent 4 years of my life and nearly $9000 dollars actively pursuing this, and you ask DO I WANT TO CONTINUE!!!  *ahem* Sorry.  I still get a bit worked up over that letter.  (Though I think it bears mentioning that most other Peace Corps Trainees I've talked to had no problems whatsoever.  So my story is an anomaly, not the norm)...Moving on.

     (At this moment, I am sitting in my host family's living room, watching Russian TV, and listening to Michael Jackson's Greatest Hits as performed on traditional Azeri instruments; which, believe it or not, is actually quite good.)   So everything has turned out well, but I'll admit, my first thought when I read the invitation was, "I don't believe you." (I'll explain why in another post, I've already complained enough)  So I was very calm and laid back as the deadline crept ever closer.  I drove my mother quite insane with my laissez-faire attitude about it, because every time she started getting excited about where I was going and doing, and asked if I was excited or nervous, my answer was, "No."  In fact, even as I was going through security at the Missoula Airport, on my way and waving goodbye to my family, I felt nothing.  I was actually starting to worry about it, since I wasn't feeling anything, about anything.  I was wondering if I should talk to the PCMO (PC Medical Officer), when one night, my host family noticed my tattoos (through my tights) and asked about them.  I pointed to the speedskate I have on .my ankle, and explained that it represents my father.  And all of a sudden, without warning, tears welled up.  My family started yelling, "Oh no! No Cry! No Cry!" and I desperately tried keep from bawling.  While I did manage it, I've now noticed that any discussions about my family or friends (or my dog) are certain to bring me to tears, and it has yet to abate.  I still run with everyone else to check the mail, and pray that maybe, just maybe, I got a letter (or a package) from back home.  Today I got a letter from my friend and high school classmate Katie T.  I promptly ran back to my friends, showed off the letter, and passed around the wedding invitation that came with it (Congratulations Katie!) to general acclaim. 
    Kind of strange that I'm such a loner, and yet, now that I'm here, I can tell that I crave connections with people.  I have Katies' card on my table, and her invitation taped next to my parents letters on my wardrobe door.  I skyped my parents, and my best friend, but still crave that physical link, the feel of the paper, the curves of the writing.  There is something so powerful in that physicality, the knowledge that what you are holding was at one point being held by a friend or a family member on the other side of the world, that they wrote these words and committed them to paper.  It makes me feel like I am not alone, and if I do feel alone (and I have) I can pull out those letters and know that there are people who are thinking of me. 
     I notice that this has gotten off on a tangent, but honestly, I think it was a tangent worth taking.  I'll upload another post to deal with the more general aspects of Azerbaijan and my service.  Leave me a note in the comments if there is anything you would like for me to talk about specifically, and I'll do my best.  Take Care all.
  Fair Winds and Following Seas.

Revenge Of The Nerd! Part 1

Museums and libraries are my drugs of choice.  I can easily spend whole days in either, usually in rapture to some obscure book or object that most other people pass by. ("A Clovis point! Cool!" "Ohhh, Queen Elizabeth's Wardrobe Unlock'd!")  So when I heard that the King Tut exhibit was in Seattle (a mere 7 hours away) I bought the tickets before alerting the rest of my family that we were making a little detour on our trip to kayak with orcas. 

AHHHHHHH!!!!   (I should mention that Orcas terrify me.)

 

The exhibit was at the Seattle Science Center (And is ongoing until January 2013 I think) We had to buy tickets to go in at a specific time, and the line was enormous, But really, none of that mattered.  Because an archaeologist in the King Tut exhibit is worse than a kid in a candy store.  "Who cares where the rest of the family is!  Look at that!!"

Ooooh, and that!

AND THAT!

It. Was. Awesome. 

There was one thing though that bothered me.  I am very big on being respectful to other cultures, even if those cultures don't exist anymore.  So when I am looking at the coffin of Tutankhamen's stillborn baby daughters, and I hear people say, 1. "They were pretty stupid to make all this stuff for after they died." 2. "She looks like she would have been a good lay." or 3. "You see, they thought animals were gods, that's why God destroyed them."  It makes me want to hit them!  Really, people?  You pay to come and see one of the greatest archaeological discoveries of all time, from one of the greatest cultures of all time, and those are your comments?! Gah!! Just...just GAH!!  When I heard idiotic comments like that, I would grab my audio guide, hit play, and listen to Harrison Ford instead. (Oh Harrison Ford, what would I do without you?)  But I can now gleefully say that I saw the King Tut artifacts!  (And I even resisted the gift shop as well.)

Top 10 Things I will Miss

Sadly, my time here in Ecuador is fast coming to an end.  And naturally, as according to Murphy's Law, it's just as I am fully settling in.  I realized yesterday that I can walk down any street, go into any store, and eat at any restaurant, and feel fully comfortable.  Compare this to my first month here, when I was terrified to simply walk two blocks down the street to the Mall.  Also, I have finally figured out what kinds of food (and juice) I love and can ask for.  So, because I'm feeling nostalgic, this is my list of things that I will miss from Ecuador.

10. No Bugs (At Least in Quito)

    In Quito, there are no screens in the windows. (This in itself makes me quite giddy simply because I can lean out of my window, and drop things down to people on the sidewalk) In Quito, the only bugs you will see is an occasional fly, and mosquitoes can't live this high up!  No bugs makes me very, very happy.  (This does not apply to the rainforest, where all the bugs live and try to make up for the fact that they aren't able to get to you at all times.)

This is from the rainforest, not Quito.

9. The Rooftops
     Again, this seems to be mainly in the Highlands, but practically every house here utilizes their roof.  Every building with a flat roof (most of them) has laundry strung out across them, dogs living on them, kids playing soccer, women washing clothes, etc.  If it weren't for the fact that it snows in Montana (and Wisconsin) and having a flat roof in winter just begs to leak and eventually collapse spectacularly into your living room, I would totally want a flat roof.

My Roof

8. The Centro Historico
     I am a history geek.  And on top of that, I love architecture.  So, when I have one of the best preserved colonial cities just six stops away on the Trolebus, you know I'm pretty much in heaven.  A 400 year old church? Great!  A grave from 1536?  Wonderful!  A perfect example of early colonial architecture that I can actually explore?  (I don't have a word for that, just shrieks of joy)  Nothing in Montana or Wisconsin can hold a candle to it.

7. The Cheap (And Easy) Travel
     Did you know that for $10 you can travel pretty much anywhere in the country?  The bus system here is fantastic.  You can go to almost any little out-of-the-way place, and if you see someplace interesting, you can tell the driver to stop, then just hop on the next bus that passes by.  This beats American travel so hard.  I can go to the rainforest, the mountains, or the beach, not pay more than $20 round trip, and have a good seat on a comfy bus with windows that open.  It makes me happy.

6. The Thunderstorms
     I love rain.  And I love thunderstorms even more.  In Montana and Wisconsin these are relatively rare, usually confined to a few big storms in spring.  But here in Quito, it never just rains, it always thunderstorms.  As I write this, there is a thunderstorm outside, and there have been thunderstorms every day for the past 5 days.  It's been like this for 3+ hours now, with lightning every minute or so, and thunder every 2 minutes.  And the thunder here is amazing!  It starts off far down the valley, and you can hear it working it's way up, growing in intensity until it's crashing down overhead with enough force to shake windows and set off car alarms. (And yes, the alarms go off every time, but you learn to ignore it)

A lightning strike

5. The Trolebus
     The Trolebus is not for those who are claustrophobic, need personal space, or are faint of heart.  It is an adrenaline rush of humanity, and one of those places where you realize that if you were to trip and fall, you could easily die.  First there is the push to actually get on the bus, and then grabbing on to a pole or a window frame and hanging on for dear life against the rush of people elbowing their way past you, then, finally, you are packed in like sardines to the point that at one point I actually couldn't take a deep breath.  And you know what?  I love the rush of making it on and off the Trolebus, and I will miss it sorely. 

Sorry, but this is probably the clearest shot of the Trolebus I'll ever get.

4. My Friends
     They're my friends, don't really have more to add to that.

3. Being Tall
     I'm 5'4.  My siblings are 6'2, 6'1, and 6'0.  Here, I'm taller than 80% of the population.  This is deeply (and kind of vindictively) satisfying.

2. My Students
   They're my students.  What else can I say?  I love working with them, seeing them progress, and they' ve finally stopped calling me Stacy (the name of the previous volunteer), though they seem to think my name is Isabelle instead of Elizabeth.

1. The Food
     This is a given, and easily the thing I will miss most.  I have been trying to figure out how I can continue to get this quality of food, and have come to the realization that in Montana, it's just not possible.  The juices are amazing, fresh made from fruits that I had never heard of before coming here, and the food is always fresh and easily some of the best I have ever had.  The bread most of all.  I have decided to take up baking because I need to have bread in Montana like they do here, not just sliced bread, but rolls and buns of every kind you could imagine (and a good deal that you can't).