September 26, 2011
Slept for about three hours and then attempted to use the fancy gas stove to make coffee. None of the six burners would fire even though the stove was plugged into the wall and the light on the hood worked. Desperate for my caffeine fix, I turned to what I had taken to be a small microwave and looked for a suitable container to boil water, but found nothing made of plastic. Looking at it more carefully now, I noticed that the “microwave” in question sported two burners on top and decided to give it a try. It was indeed a small stove and coffee started percolating shortly thereafter.
The ultra modern stove just occupying space as there is no gas to operate it.
I set out for the public market nearby hoping to find something to have for breakfast and to take a look at what might be available for cooking once I settle into an apartment. I now took a look at the apartment building in daylight and found it to be a typical Soviet era building devoid of any architectural charm. Turning the corner, I came across groups of Tajiks on their way to work or the market with the women sporting the typical dress of a long tunic, elaborately embroidered over pants the cuffs of which match the embroidery on the tunic, while the men dressed in Western-style clothes. Several stands catered to these groups selling them fried snacks, fresh fruit and drinks. The large park on my right seemed neglected as evidenced by the tall grass and considerable amount of debris being swept by a crew of women only who were identified by an orange vest.
The Green Bazaar is a sprawling market selling mostly fruits and vegetables and is the largest one in the capital. Pomegranates must be in season as I found mounds and mounds of them all around along with fruits and vegetables I could not identify. I hope to be able to recruit a local person to come with me next time and explain what they are and how to cook them. I was comforted to see the staples around such as carrots, cabbage, potatoes, and eggplants in addition to apples, pears, grapes and oranges. A futile search for anything tropic such as plantains, cassava, mangoes, malanga/yautia or coconut ensued, but to no avail.
The ultra modern stove just occupying space as there is no gas to operate it.
I set out for the public market nearby hoping to find something to have for breakfast and to take a look at what might be available for cooking once I settle into an apartment. I now took a look at the apartment building in daylight and found it to be a typical Soviet era building devoid of any architectural charm. Turning the corner, I came across groups of Tajiks on their way to work or the market with the women sporting the typical dress of a long tunic, elaborately embroidered over pants the cuffs of which match the embroidery on the tunic, while the men dressed in Western-style clothes. Several stands catered to these groups selling them fried snacks, fresh fruit and drinks. The large park on my right seemed neglected as evidenced by the tall grass and considerable amount of debris being swept by a crew of women only who were identified by an orange vest.
The Green Bazaar is a sprawling market selling mostly fruits and vegetables and is the largest one in the capital. Pomegranates must be in season as I found mounds and mounds of them all around along with fruits and vegetables I could not identify. I hope to be able to recruit a local person to come with me next time and explain what they are and how to cook them. I was comforted to see the staples around such as carrots, cabbage, potatoes, and eggplants in addition to apples, pears, grapes and oranges. A futile search for anything tropic such as plantains, cassava, mangoes, malanga/yautia or coconut ensued, but to no avail.
Using a mixture of sign language and English, I was able to buy a huge pomegranate, grapes, an unusual type of pear and rice and beans.
Here's a beekeeping operation on a sidewalk close to the market.
I was hoping to find food stalls within the market, but there were none to be found. Someone pointed to a row of eateries across the street and I ventured into one to order a bowl of soup accompanied by the traditional flat bread. It cost about a dollar and a half and consisted of a very thin broth accompanied by potatoes, sliced carrots and a chunk of beef, too though to chew, and chopped cilantro was sprinkled on top. A very old gent, all dressed up in a suit, was eating at the next table and repeatedly tried to start a conversation with me despite my indications to the contrary. I was most surprised to see him pull a cell phone from his pocket and launch into a loud conversation.
After a long nap, I made my way to a restaurant recommended by Tashmina where they served Georgian-style food. Located in the basement of a commercial building sporting the first fast food place I’ve seen so far, Southern-style fried chicken, the restaurant operates as a large cafeteria where you pick up a tray and then select items to fill your plate. The woman ahead of me instructed me to pick up a basket and fill it with slices of bread or rolls, a glass of fruit juice (compote she called it) one of a variety of pickled vegetables, dessert and soup (borscht) and then the main dish. They offered a choice of beef, chicken breast, goat or lamb and white rice, wheat germ or pasta to go along with the meat. All of these items came to a total of about $4.00. When I sat at an empty table, the woman who had preceded me signal that I was to come to her table where she sat next to a man I took to be her husband. Although I could not take part in the conversation, it was a nice gesture of her to want to make me feel welcomed.
Afterwards, I stopped at what looked like a convenience store, but turned out to be a well-stocked mini-supermarket where I realized that for the first time in my travels, I could not make out the labels on most items since they were not written in English, Spanish, French or Hindi and were instead written only in Russian and Tajik. I need a tutor fast!
Here's a beekeeping operation on a sidewalk close to the market.
I was hoping to find food stalls within the market, but there were none to be found. Someone pointed to a row of eateries across the street and I ventured into one to order a bowl of soup accompanied by the traditional flat bread. It cost about a dollar and a half and consisted of a very thin broth accompanied by potatoes, sliced carrots and a chunk of beef, too though to chew, and chopped cilantro was sprinkled on top. A very old gent, all dressed up in a suit, was eating at the next table and repeatedly tried to start a conversation with me despite my indications to the contrary. I was most surprised to see him pull a cell phone from his pocket and launch into a loud conversation.
After a long nap, I made my way to a restaurant recommended by Tashmina where they served Georgian-style food. Located in the basement of a commercial building sporting the first fast food place I’ve seen so far, Southern-style fried chicken, the restaurant operates as a large cafeteria where you pick up a tray and then select items to fill your plate. The woman ahead of me instructed me to pick up a basket and fill it with slices of bread or rolls, a glass of fruit juice (compote she called it) one of a variety of pickled vegetables, dessert and soup (borscht) and then the main dish. They offered a choice of beef, chicken breast, goat or lamb and white rice, wheat germ or pasta to go along with the meat. All of these items came to a total of about $4.00. When I sat at an empty table, the woman who had preceded me signal that I was to come to her table where she sat next to a man I took to be her husband. Although I could not take part in the conversation, it was a nice gesture of her to want to make me feel welcomed.
Afterwards, I stopped at what looked like a convenience store, but turned out to be a well-stocked mini-supermarket where I realized that for the first time in my travels, I could not make out the labels on most items since they were not written in English, Spanish, French or Hindi and were instead written only in Russian and Tajik. I need a tutor fast!
First impressions of the city: lovely place with well-laid out streets, shady trees and large green spaces. Low-slung pastel buildings erected during the Soviet domination most of them sporting a large landscape front space and wide sidewalks to walk at ease. Everything appears to be covered in layers and layers of dust as it hasn’t rained in a while. Sprinkle systems do not appear to be something available in the area. It’s a pleasure to watch the young Tajik men dressed in stylish suits or smartly pressed slacks, tucked in shirt and pointy slip-on shoes. Such a sartorial contrast to the baseball cap, t-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes uniform sported in the States. The women dress in anything from slim jeans and tight t-shirts to the traditional tunic (this one goes practically to the ankles) and pants. I’ve only seen a couple of women actually showing their legs.
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