December 5,

Another snowy morning and very cold temperatures. I had no choice but to bundle up and trudge through the snow because I had failed to pay my Internet bill on time and the service had been suspended. I also needed to pay my electric bill. At Megaphon, the same woman who has helped me for the last two months took care of my payment and even led the way to another floor to show where a bathroom was available for customers. One thing I certainly like about Dushanbe is that I hardly ever have to wait in line for anything. Even at the supermarket the most I might have is another person in front of me. It was one the same for the payment of the electric bill as I got behind a woman and I presented my bill, the clerk directed me to the next window and there was only another woman in front of me.

I walked all the way to the bookstore getting progressively more and more wet as the snow doesn’t really stick around. The clerk did have the book and made out a receipt very quickly. I made it to my 11:00 class and told the students the topic of the day was “Growing up” and listed eight questions for them to answer before we could discuss them. Student didn’t know the meaning of “curfew”, “getting along”, “being grounded” and “arguing”. I learned from one of the female students that they are expected to return home immediately after classes are finished and thus they didn’t have a curfew per se.

Pariso fulfilled her promise, took me back to the clinic, and after my payment of 20.00 somoni walked out with a health certificate. I was freezing as my coat, my gloves and bag were now wet and I pleaded for her to have a bowl of soup with me and we went to nearby hole in the wall. The ragman noodle soup was more substantial than the other ones I had had  in the past, but the new dish I tried, something called kurtov, was almost vile. It’s made by soaking flat bread in some kind of yogurt or buttermilk and then piling fried onions and other seasonings on it and finished with some chopped basil. This is not to be eaten again. Pariso now begged me to change my schedule once again to accommodate her need to teach at another school in the early hours of the morning, so that now instead of coming in at 11:00am, she wants for me to teach her class beginning at 8:55. I really hate having to leave my flat so early in the morning, but also know she needs the income from both places to make ends meet and so caved in and said yes.

It was now time to stop an international school nearby that Caroline had visited the previous week and whose owner, an Iranian woman from the Baha’i faith, was interested in having a seasoned teacher conduct observations for her teachers. I got slightly lost and was about to call the school when a man came around and pointed in the general direction. As soon as I opened the door to the school, I was in heaven as the place was light, airy, warm and well-organized. I was directed to the second floor to meet with Nazila, a gorgeous woman stylishly dressed who took me into her office and gave me the background story on the school. As a professional woman, she had tried to enroll her two kids in the local international schools, but found them wanting in either the discipline or standards area and decided, even though she wasn’t an educator herself, to open her own school.

At this point, she has two American teachers, Meghan and Kristina, working there alongside three other Tajik teachers. She related to me who she has interviewed numerous graduates from the PedInst as possible candidates for assistant teacher positions and hasn’t hired any due to the poor quality of their English and their paucity of knowledge about classroom management. I couldn’t help it but concur with her. She’d like to see me do some observations of the Tajik teachers and offer whatever suggestions seem appropriate.

Back outside to face the continuously falling snow and the low temperatures. Luckily, I was able to board a mini-van the minute I got to the intersection. I bought some flat bread and milk at the corner store and made a beeline for my apartment. Caroline confirmed I’ll be doing my first teacher training presentation outside of Dushanbe this coming Saturday. That’s great news as it will be the first time we get to travel outside the city and meet with other teachers. I’m really looking forward to it.

The power went out at 7:00pm and I hunkered down under my blankets. I heard a loud knock on my door and decided to ignore it to see if they’d go away. It continued and I got up to find Jamshev standing on the landing carrying some contraption I could not see even with the help of his cell phone light. I had sent a message to him through the realtor asking if I could buy a propane cylinder for my stove and he had gone to buy something similar and brought it in this bestial weather. He wanted to show me how to use it and requested matches, something I haven’t bothered to buy yet. I told him to forget it for now and that I’d get someone else to show me how to use. Mercifully, the power came back within the hour and I could feel my hands again.