December 3, 2011

This was the much anticipated day to begin our teacher training workshops at the American Corner and Caroline had offered to go first. I, in turn, volunteered to be present for moral support in case no one showed up. It was gratifying to see five teachers in the waiting area at 9:45am as the American Corner coordinator, Baktyor, hadn’t showed up on time as previously agreed. I had brought my electric tea kettle so we could offer instant coffee and tea along with some biscuits, cakes and juices. Caroline herself showed up at ten, something inexplicable, but I didn’t ask any questions so as not to add to the pressure she must have already being feeling.

A total of ten teachers showed up, including one from the PedInst and a fourth year student from there as well, which was much appreciated for the day was very cold, 30 degrees and very foggy. The topic was when, why and how to teach vocabulary in the classroom and the teachers had many insightful answers to these questions. Caroline had prepared several handouts on matching synonyms, doing a scavenger hunt, using crosswords puzzles and word searches. All in all, I think it went very well and the evaluation/feedback forms indicated they had enjoyed the activities and found them useful.

                                Teacher training at the American Corner

Daroush and his friend were waiting for us outside to take us to one of his favorite Afghan restaurants. We picked up Peter along the way. It must have been located out in the boonies for we drove for a long time before getting there. I immediately had to ask for a bathroom and was disappointed to be told to walk on a muddy alleyway until I found the appropriate place where the server was pointing. I guess there was no need for that as the smell would have led me there anyway. It was the typical squat toilet with a tiny sink on the side, but I had to go.

I rejoined the group and found that only men were sitting at the tables nearby, something I had noticed at other restaurants in Dushanbe. Daroush explained that this restaurant is close to a market and most of the patrons were shop owners. I asked him if no women sold things at this market and he said yes, but women went home to cook and eat. I still found this explanation flawed, but didn’t pursue anymore. We were served some kind of clear, watery soup with no flavor whatsoever, so I set it aside. The next dish was a mixture of one small meatball and some chopped carrots in an indistinguishable sauce. I had a taste of it, and contrary to Peter’s opinion, didn’t find it spicy or even savory. A single plate of tomato and lemon slices, covered with shredded radishes, was also on the table. The pilau rice came next and it was indeed very good with tender chunks of beef, lots of shredded carrots and plump currants. Next, we had a round of shish kebabs that were juicy, tender and very flavorful. Two bottles of soda had been left on the table, but no tea, so I ordered some and was served the transparent hot water they take here for tea. And no sugar, of course.

                                       Afghani meal, almost identical to the Tajik

Daroush left the table for a minute and didn’t realize he had gone to pay the bill in secret so we wouldn’t raise a fuss. He’s only a medical student and insisted on contributing to the cost of such an expansive meal. Caroline countered that we could all do our part to reciprocate his generosity: Peter would take him out for a drink, I’d cook a meal for him and she would offer companionship. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but left it at that.

The police flagged our car on the way back and harassed the driver, another Afghani, until Caroline insisted that Daroush and Peter get out of the car and intervene. It did the trick and the police officer returned the driver’s documents, which he was planning on retaining, and let us continue.

Caroline’s landlord was coming by to collect the rent and Peter and I offered to stay so Peter could help interpret for her. She is threatening to move out at the end of the month for the heating system does not work, her front door has a wide gap through which the cold air gets in, the satellite cable box wasn’t working, the kitchen window wouldn’t close and so on ad infinitum. The landlord fixed the window somehow, called on a technician to look at the satellite dish, and promised to return tomorrow with two new space heaters. I had to tuck my feet under my coat to keep relatively warm.

Peter offered to show me where I need to go to pay for my electric bill, but it was already closed. I just hope it won’t be shut off if I’m late. I stopped at the cobbler and picked up my boots with the new heels. I’m ready for that snow predicted for Monday. I wish I had a really bulky hat to protect my ears though.