January 4, 2012

The Poytakt Hotel where the English Teacher Mentor Program’s conference was being held is an old, Soviet-style blocky building occupying a large block near the train station and the five-story Sakrbar Shopping Center. The lobby is a dim affair furnished with dark, overstuffed pieces and too small lamps and sconces. The elevator seems too narrow to accommodate even a relatively healthy individual and could not be located unless you happen to see someone exiting it.

I took the staircase and walked to the third floor expecting there would be some kind of signs leading me to the conference room. There was none along the dark corridors or on the landing of the third floor. I turned left tentatively and a young woman came up behind me and asked if I was her trainer. I was relieved to hear someone speak English and confirmed her suspicion. Because of the cold weather, all activities had been relegated to one room where a stocky air conditioning/heating unit was keeping everybody happy. The teachers had grouped themselves according to region or because they knew each other well from the previous conferences and had already being given a binder and a generous pouch containing a pens/ loose paper. highlighter/stapler/staples/pencils/scissors and other goodies.

The hotel staff set out the exact number of tea cups and an electric teakettle and at 10:00 brought a few plates with cookies and biscuits. I was delighted to see that the Multikid staff had brought in hot sambusas, both vegetarian and beef ones, for those of us not the least bit interested in biscuits and candy. When we retreated to our tables to resume the session, hotel staff came in and took away all leftovers including cups, tea and instant coffee. I couldn’t believe it and this in a hotel that Caroline swears the teachers are paying $100.00 a night.

Matluva, the only teacher attending from Dushanbe, offered to show us where to get a cup of soup in a dreary cold day when it didn’t stop raining for even one second. The soup was quite savory and the flatbread thick and fresh. We returned to conference room so I could start on the grant writing portion of the conference. The teachers straggled in at different times and many appeared to be falling asleep during the PowerPoint presentation. I decided to cut it short so as to give them a chance to gather ideas on a local project they’d like to obtain a grant to see it done.

                                   Helping a participant narrow down her choices for a grant.

                                    Observing Caroline carry out most of the tasks for the conference.

Most of the teachers opted for the option of putting on additional training sessions for local teachers even though they could not articulate how that would have an impact, a visible one at that, on the present state of the school. When one of them mentioned the roof of her school needed replacement, I got all excited and told her many corporations and foundations would love to take part in a project of that type as they can clearly document and before and after situation where their money made a difference and get tons of publicity for doing so. She remained unconvinced and wanted to proceed with her project for additional training.

                                                 Dismantling the New Year's Tree

When the conference was finished for the day, Caroline and I parted ways as I needed to pay for my Internet. The Megaphon office was jumping with people with about four or five people positioned at which station and with only three clerks doing the work. The thermostat was set at some infernal degree and I just turned right around and left.

Zoir, Aziz and Bahruz were on their way to my apartment and we got there at the same time. They turned down the tea I offered and we talked about how they had celebrated the new year with Aziz going to bed at 4:00am, while Zoir had dinner with his brothers and Bahruz spent it with his family watching TV, listening to music and dancing with members of his family. All three of them want to travel to the United States under the “Work and Travel” program they have heard so much about.  I promised to take a look at it once my Internet was restored.

I learned today that the reason men in Tajikistan can be seen spitting left and right almost compulsively is because they are chewing on some type of drug. They didn’t know the name in English. I need to find out the name of this drug.