September 29, 2011

A hectic day that began by waking up at 3:00a.m. to be ready to receive my colleague, Caroline, who was flying in from Los Angeles. Her luggage didn’t make it and thus she didn’t come in until 6:00. I made her a cup of coffee, and contrary to my expectations, she wasn’t tired and wanted to know all about my first impressions of the place.

I filled her in as much as could and then we went out to look for a cafeteria someone had pointed to while I was apartment searching. By trial and error we did find it, but the food was bland. I found it curious to see most Tajiks ordering hot dogs for breakfast. I’ll have to find out how this came about.  We then went to the Green Market where I encountered the first roving beggar, a woman carrying a baby, who insisted on following us from stall to stall asking for money and pointing to her baby and her lack of food to feed it. We tried to ignore her as much as we could until one of the vendors shooed her away. I had seen other women begging on the streets, but they appeared to be old women who stationed themselves at particular spots. It was moving day for me and thus I had packed everything as Tahmina was coming by to pick us up by noon. The apartment was still lacking all the appliances, but the landlady was apparently waiting for my three-month advance payment to purchase them and promised to bring them in later on in the afternoon.

So I just handed over $1500.00 to a woman with whom I can’t communicate, have no idea how to locate if anything went wrong and who could not provide me with a receipt much less a lease agreement. Tahmina reassured me this is standard practice in Dushanbe and that such transactions rest on the word of the involved parties. Seems like some shaky grounds to me, but I reminded myself of my promise to just go with flow.

We then went to Turkish Airlines to claim Caroline’s bags only to find out that they were still in Istanbul and since the airlines only fly into Dushanbe twice a week, she would not have them until next Monday.  Tahmina was shrew enough to ask for compensation by indicating that Caroline only had the clothes on her back and would need to buy some items of clothing and toiletries  in the meantime. The manager agreed on the spot to compensate for the equivalent of $100.00. I was impressed by the efficiency of the transaction. Caroline needed passport –size photos to complete her OVIR registration and we went to kiosk where they were equipped with the latest digital equipment and had her photos done in less than five minutes. I was starving by them and Tahmina recommended a Western-style restaurant nearby where most international NGO employees frequent. I walked into the tile and chrome filled place and had to turn right around as all the patrons appeared to be smoking and I could hardly breathe. Luckily, the place had an outdoor seating area facing the street. Once we were handed the menus, we could hardly believe our eyes as the establishment was charging the same prices as one would find in the States at a pricey eatery. I had a small salad just so I would not faint until I found another place to eat and Caroline and Tahmina had some fancy coffee drinks. 

We went next door to a shop that could be considered the Dushanbe’s equivalent to a Pottery Barn, except I could not find the only item I needed: a coffee grinder. It was then across the street to what Tahmina called a department store and turned out to be a cavernous, dark and dingy place with no particular appeal and where a woman tried to unload an ugly lime green pant and tunic outfit on me for 250.00 somonis or about $52.00.

Even though we reassured Tahmina that we could find our way back to my apartment, where appliances were being delivered between five and six, we got completely lost. At least Caroline recognized a particular spot from our morning walk and we had to retrace our steps all the way to the old apartment in order to then find our way back to my apartment. A microwave, electric teapot to boil the water, a 32-inch flat screen TV, a DVD player and a narrow fridge were delivered later on. I really don’t know how the delivery guy, who strapped the fridge to his back and made his way to my fifth floor, managed it. It might have been because the entire unit seems to be made of plastic and thus weighs very little. We then had a comical moment for the landlady’s husband was trying to tell me something about the fridge and its cord. He did manage to say ten o’clock and I understood he needed to come back the next morning while I was trying to tell me that I would not be present at that time. The delivery guy then pulled out his cell phone and showed me the number three. We went back and forth with the guy picking up the cord and simulating that he was plugging it into the outlet. I then remembered I had Tahmina’s number and called her. Her husband answered and interpreted for us that the fridge was not to be plugged in until three hours later. I still don’t have a mattress or dining room table. I piled some cushions on the rug and made a bed. After a quick shower, I went to sleep.