October 9, 2011

Once again, my landlady showed up without calling around nine in the morning to have the necessary connections made for the brand new washer I had found the night before. It was good thing that Ryan was on his way to my place as we had planned to visit the Victory Park nearby. Nancy was coming along as well. Acting as my interpreter, the service person, who showed up later on, told Ryan that while using the washing machine, I could not have anything else plugged in, not even the fridge or the lights. It was a good thing he could interpret for me as the manual came in Uzbekistan, Russian and Turkish only. 

                                   My resplendent new washing machine


Still don’t know where to take my garbage. Ryan indicated people take out their trash at night only, so I need to spy on my neighbors, whom I hardly ever see, to determine the exact location where they take theirs.

We headed for the park located on the nearby hills only to find the cable car and restaurant closed. We continued on to the top and ran into a wedding party. It seems highly incongruous for newlyweds to be taken to a memorial park for Tajik soldiers who died fighting alongside the Russians during the German invasion. The bride was helped out of the gaily decorated car and up the steps of the monument while a videographer climbed to the top of the wall to film the entire event. The group was accompanied by a trio of musicians and luckily for us, they invited us to get closer and take pictures. I even danced a little as the video man focused on me. Both groom and bride seemed exceedingly young and uncomfortable. Apparently, the bride is not to make eye contact as he kept her eyes glued to the pavement.

                                         Wedding party at Victory Park

We encountered a lot of curious kids coming down and after some hesitation they did allow Nancy and Ryan to take their pictures. The batteries had died on mine at this point.

                                 Monument to fallen soldiers of World War II

Ryan took his leave and Nancy and I went in search of an open beauty salon where we could have a pedicure as this was her last day in Dushanbe, but we first took a detour through an open construction site where numerous buildings, parks and gardens are going up. We could see families touring the area even though no safety rails had been put up near the artificial lakes and workers were busily welding and drilling all around. This is the place where the government chose to erect the largest  flag in the world.

                                                A flat bread vendor

Having pedicures at one of the salons along Rudaki Avenue turned into a hilarious situation for us as Nancy had never had one before and I hadn’t had one in years. The woman who took on the task complained loudly about the state of our feet and we could make it out when she asked if American never had pedicures. We saw dead skin fly all over as she huffed and puffed to find soft skin under our calloused ones. We promised to tip her handsomely as the original quote had been for only 35 somonis or $8.00. A group of Tajik women congregated around us to share in the woman’s exasperation and to ogle our feet.  Nancy didn’t need to remind me that this salon might not want to see my face again.

                         Getting an overdue pedicure from an unhappy beautician

We had the most god awful meal at the Indian restaurant recommended by the American Embassy. Peter had confirmed that its owners were Nepali and that he could easily find its location. Instead, we were once again lost and got to the place practically famished to find our dishes in no way resembling what either a Nepali or Indian restaurant would serve.  Each dish had been served in an individual round metal bowl and they had a metallic taste to them. Not even the appetizers, samosas and pakhoras, were tasty and the nam bread was disappointing. I do need to start cooking again.