October 13, 2011

Looks like it rained again last night. The air is noticeably cooler, more leaves are turning yellow and more women are sporting sweaters over their dresses. Fall must be in the air. Someone below my apartment must be cooking something delicious and the aroma is wafting up through my open kitchen window where I also hear kids playing in the courtyard. It’s late afternoon and the sun is shining weakly as people return home from work and walk slowly down the alleyway below my window.

                                   Shades of autumn

Walked to Caroline’s apartment this morning to ride with her to her new school, Gymnasium #74, which was supposed to be located in the ghetto area of Dushanbe. It did take a while to get there, but contrary to our expectations, the place didn’t look run down, crowded, filthy or dangerous. We were instructed to read all the murals the students had put together in the lobby area even though they were in Tajik or Russian. The principal’s office was no bigger than a crowded closet and she only spoke Russian. The school was undergoing some kind of inspection at this time and all the staff was on edge. She could only spare five minutes for us and informed Caroline that any specific questions about her assignment should be tabled until she me with her counterpart next Monday.

Caroline dutifully trying to read the newspaper mural put together by her future students as instructed by her colleague.

The driver was gracious enough to drop us off at the PedInst so we could have lunch prior to my observation of classes. While there, we ran into Lauren, the Fulbrighter we met at the embassy, and chi chatted until she discovered the woman she was waiting for was already setting at one of the tables. Caroline ordered a Waldorf salad and I had a ham and cheese omelet for which the kitchen had no sauce of any kind to offer except for some very bright ketchup.

Here are some photos from a typical classroom at the Pedagogical Institute:

We had a chance to observe three classes with two different teachers and could not wait to flee the place. The students were ordered to stand up when answering a question and got a dress down if late. The teacher allowed for no wait time and answered most question herself or himself. The students were encouraged to ask the questions in Tajik or Russian and were expected to translate major passages for homework. One of the classes had the vowels and their phonetic representation on the board, but the teacher never referred to them. We could never determine what the aim of any lesson was as they seem to reviewing the days of the week/months and then describing a house.

I’ll be teaching 12 hours a week, including Saturdays, and will have Sundays and Mondays off. It will seem weird to work on Saturday afternoons until 4:30pm. The dean told me in parting that the faculty expected me to put on workshops to improve their teaching and for which they should receive a certificate from the embassy. I told him I’d look into it and get back to him.

I found out a few days ago that Tajik drivers can be fined if they drive a car that is noticeably dirty. As a result, impromptu car washes can be seen all around the city usually staffed by young teenagers such as the one in this picture.

Bookseller outside the gates of the Pedagogical Institute

Our fourth ELF is coming in tomorrow. Tahmina has asked me to host her for a few days until she finds an apartment of her own. I need to clean my place and stock up with some groceries.