November 29, 2011

I slept badly thinking about my new schedule and the fact that it was going to be very cold on my way to the institute. Mercifully, I didn’t have to wait for a mini-van as one was stopped at the light and I made my way to the PedInst at a brisk pace. The dean was in his office and when I told him I couldn’t understand the reasons behind the change in schedule, he informed me the board of directors had made the decision the day before, contradicting Pariso’s statement that she had been informed last Saturday, and it was intended to protect the young female students who were obligated to travel long distances in the dark now that it’s winter. He promised to insure that I’d continue to use the only classroom with the whiteboard, but when I got to the classroom, another class was already in progress there and couldn’t find my students.

The same teacher who had practically insulted me last Friday now approached me to apologize saying that I had misunderstood him and that he meant that the students were in fact learning to speak English. I did not buy his explanation, but neither did I want to engage in a long discussion with someone for whom I have no respect. He was very cordial this time and when he saw how frustrated I was at not being able to find where I was due to be teaching, he offered to find out where my students were. I then had to go back and retrieve my CD player to get the class started. The story was repeated for all three classes as even the students themselves did not know where to report for their classes and some had taken advantage of the confusion to sneak out for a snack. Pacing the hallway up and down, carrying the CD player, my schoolbag and coat got old quickly and I was almost tempted to set the player anywhere and just leave. After all, in such confusion, who’d notice my absence?

During my break, three of the male professors, one of whom I had never been introduced to, approached me, and making sure the door was closed, admitted they were having a very difficult time teaching with their Russian textbook as they themselves hardly spoke the language. One wanted help explaining the future perfect, another felt a conversation class for the teachers was in order while the last one wanted help explaining syntax. I told them I was willing to offer teacher training sessions in the afternoon as long as the dean approved it and for them to bring it up during their staff meeting.

Caroline was waiting for me at the American Councils and we went to lunch at the cafeteria nearby where they had fried fish this time and I had my customary bowl of soup and bread. The fish was delicious and although fried didn’t taste greasy. The fog had burned out completely and we were looking at a marvelous day with the mountains in their full splendors and almost fully covered with snow. I decided it was a good day to walk back home stopping along the way at the butcher shop for some beef and then a vegetable vendor for some pickled carrots for tomorrow’s dinner at Yoomie’s.

Mariam knocked on my door this evening and when I opened it she started to cry. I noticed she was dressed all in black and a dread came over me as I suspected, and she confirmed it, that her father had passed away. She had mentioned he was sick last week when she delivered the plate full of persimmons and I had not had the courtesy to stop by her apartment and ask how he was doing. She insisted that I go down to her flat so her daughter could explain things better, but Nilufar doesn’t speak much English either and we sat in front of a coffee table laden with sweets, cookies, fresh fruit and other goodies while I learned information about the deceased who happened to have been a professor at the PedInst.

When two other women came by and the round of soup, bread and tea started again, I begged to leave as I had work to do upstairs. I still don’t know what would be appropriate to do for Mariam in this situation. Perhaps flowers? Or cooking a meal? I really don’t know.