December 21, 2011

The coldest weather I’ve faced so far: a mere 9 degrees Fahrenheit and so no chance that all the snow on the ground will melt anytime soon. When I opened the faucet, there was no water to be had. Good thing I had boiled some water yesterday in the electric teakettle and had enough to make coffee.

I emailed Takhmina at Caritas International to let her know I wasn’t sure I could navigate my way through the snow and ice to make it to the class scheduled for today, and she surprised me by saying she could send her driver to pick me up. A few minutes later, Zoir called to say he was with a group of my students and they wanted to pay me a visit, but I told him to make if for Thursday when I have no plans to set foot outside my apartment.

I wore my angora sweater, thermal undershirt, another long sweater on top and my coat, not to mention the usual accoutrements: hat, scarf and gloves. The SUV from Caritas was waiting across the street as my alleyway was too icy for the vehicle to make it. Nigina had to help me steady myself as I gingerly made my way from the vehicle to the office. I then met Takhmina in person and two other male employees whose names escape me now. She made me coffee and then we started the conversation class. The driver took me back and dropped me off in front of the supermarket so I could buy water, milk and other staples. It was really hard to walk from the store to my apartment building as only the middle of the street was free from ice and snow and I had to go through a different path to the building since I could not walk downhill even wearing my hiking boots.

                              Snowy view of the Children's Park across from my apartment building

Caroline has asked me to pick at least one subject to cover during the English Mentor Teacher program at the beginning of January but I didn’t find any of the topics appealing. The conference is intended to prepare the teachers to apply for grants, scholarships and teacher exchange programs abroad. I settled for the grant writing portion since I’ve done one in the past.

I’m so glad Elisabeth sold me her Pamiri woolen boots to wear around the house. I happened to watch a documentary on RTD and they showed a village in Russia where these boots are still made by hand. You should have seen the joy in the guy’s face as he turned out another pair of these boots and he related his dismay to be the last person in his village to still know how to make them. They are keeping my feet relatively warm.