February 29, 2012

Stopped by Operation Mercy and got the DVD from Johan. My classroom was open and a couple of female students from my former 101 group were huddling around the space heater and told me they had been barred from their class for arriving late. As I was organizing my cards to play adjectives and their opposites, they asked questions about it and I had them tried to play, but they didn’t recognize any of the vocabulary, not even the word “ugly”.

Students from my former 112 group, the one who seemed to be making the most strides while using the Headway textbook, saw me and they all came to hug me and asked me why I was no longer teaching them. I told them to go ask the dean as I simply didn’t believe his explanation that they had done very poorly in their final exam. Oigul said that in fact her group had done very, very well and she wanted to continue to have me as her teacher. We exchanged numbers so we could keep in touch.

The student who had asked me the previous day to excuse him from class walked in and asked me why I had not done so as the dean had called his parents about his absence and now he was in trouble. I bluntly told him I had seen no evidence of illness and was in no position to excuse him. He stormed out of the classroom. The rest of the students sat down and we went through some similes before they paired up to complete the list of items in the “Odd One Out” game. Nigora came in at this time and helped a group of students with their answers and explanations. While we are supposed to be co-teaching this class, her modus operandi is to pop in for a few minutes while busily texting on her phone and then walk out under some pretense or another. This time, she stayed until the end of the class, texting all the while nonetheless.

My conversation class at Caritas dealt with children and parents and their answer to one question about adoption left me dumbfounded. Both Nigina, who is a doctor, and Takhmina confirmed that children born out of wedlock are simply abandoned by their mothers at the maternity hospital and the nurses sell the babies to families who haven’t had a chance to adopt or don’t want to go through the lengthy procedure. Furkat, the pious member of the group, kept his head down the whole time as if indicating he didn’t feel comfortable talking about it.

I then traveled to the embassy where Sandy had compelled me to come in and help out in the interviewing process for teachers wanting to participate in an exchange program that would take them to the United States for two months during which they’d have a chance to visit Washington, D. C. and observe classes at a local school in other states. I had initially refused to participate since I feel that the embassy doesn’t give a hoot about me and only contacts me when they need something. Since Caroline is out of the picture now and Corrie claimed she had classes in the afternoon, Sandy had made a personal appeal for me to come in and even agreed to ask the questions so I didn’t have to talk so much.

It was Sandy’s birthday and there goodies to be had in the office. She told me to avail myself of the carrot cake and cookies and then come to her office to start the interviewing process. Tahmina said hello and I barely looked at her. Sandy appeared all flustered when she sat down and then told me she had just found out that one of the Fulbrighters under her supervision had returned to the States last December and never reported it. This was Emily, the one doing research on the dancing practices of women in Tajikistan. Sandy never mentioned the fact that she had obviously failed to keep track of Emily’s whereabouts and her supposed research. I took the opportunity to inform her that due to her office negligence in not informing me that my request for an extension had been denied, I had not been able to apply for a Fulbright fellowship by the deadline of February first. Sandy asked me if I didn’t mind waiting until we were done with the interviews before we talked about my situation and I agreed to do so.

She called on twelve candidates, asked three to four questions and I took note of their respective answers. At the end, we rated their answers, selected three for the available posts and an alternate just in case. Turning to my case, she started to fidget on her chair and saying things like “I don’t know how to say this”, or “Let me say that…”. I told her to spare me the diplomatic B. S. and just come to the point, but she would not stop trying to rephrase whatever she started saying before. I finally told her I had come to the conclusion that the PedInst request for another ELF had to do with my skin color and ethnicity to which Sandy appeared to react with horror and reassured me that wasn’t the case. Supposedly, the institute had indicated that there problems communicating with me to which I retorted that why wasn’t I made aware of that? She said she had discussed the case with her supervisor and that she had meant to talk to me privately, but then things happened, she got distracted and apparently forgot all about it. I was supposed to believe that Harry had not been instructed to deliver the news to me, much less told to tell to me  talk to Tahmina upon my return to Dushanbe. She tried to downplay the situation by telling me that Harry had a post to offer me in Kazakhstan and I said I felt like a charity case now. So what was I, rejected goods? She again tried to look aghast and said that wasn’t the case, it just that there wasn’t a good fit between the PedInst and me and she now plans on making sure that the next ELF at that post speaks Russian, so administrative details can be conveyed in that language and cut down on misunderstandings.

I left the embassy and proceeded to F1 where Ruth and Corrie agreed to meet me to say goodbye to Caroline. Daroush and Aziza, along with her husband, joined us later on. Ruth kept going on about how great things are going for her at the Language Institute and how she had bought erasers for all twenty teachers at her department so none of them has to use a piece of rag to erase the board. She feels great that they are so appreciative and make her feel like a goddess. Caroline and I exchanged glances as if to say “enough already, woman”.

Daroush offered to walk us back to the apartment to help me carry the bag of Forum magazines I had brought from the embassy to distribute at the workshop. Caroline stopped at the supermarket and bought two bottles of beer for us to drink while saying goodbye. Corrie had arranged for the taxi to come for her at 3:30am and to accompany her to the airport as she herself was traveling to Uzbekistan by land and was leaving early as well.

February 28, 2012

Another beautiful day greeted me today. While waiting for the mini-van to take me to the PedInst, the SUV from the Mercy Operation NGO stopped by and Johan reminded me that he had a DVD waiting for me with the photos from my presentation there last month. I promised to stop by after my class. I was about to walk into the PedInst when one of the students from the interpreter’s program stopped me to ask if I would excuse him from classes as he had a headache. I told him I had a terrible cold and was there to teach, so why couldn’t he attend classes? He begged to excuse his absence and I told him I didn’t know what the procedure was for doing so and walked away. When I walked into my classroom, there were only three students from the interpreter’s group and I indicated to the class monitor that I would not be teaching a class to three students and to be please go and see the dean about it. The dean walked in and personally marked 17 students as absent and told me they’d be punished for walking away from the class. The monitor indicated they were afraid of being in a class where English was the medium of instruction.

Nigora was late for her class, since she teaches at a private language institute, and the dean arranged for her students to join mine just for today. I tried to get the students to introduce themselves by saying their names and using an adjective that began with the same letter as their first names. After some hesitation, a few were able to do it, but then one young woman refused to play because she admitted she didn’t know what an adjective was. We played a game of collocations and I gave them a list of items to play “Odd One Out” the following day.

Decided to enjoy the sunshine and walked to the stationery store to buy additional paper for laminating cards in preparation for the workshop on Saturday. I was really hungry and didn’t feel like eating soup again. There wasn’t a single restaurant that I could think of that I wanted to eat at then. I made my way back home and reheated the remaining plov and had it with some salad. Caroline came back early as the conference was over and she needed to do some serious packing to be ready for her departing flight.

February 27, 2012

I heard the sound of rain as soon as I woke up and felt relieved that no more snow would accumulate today. I had flat bread, a piece of cheese and hot chocolate for breakfast before getting ready to head to the PedInst. The dean’s office was closed and I proceeded to my classroom where a male professor was finishing up his lecture. The whiteboard had been pushed to the side and the space heater was missing while all the tables and chairs had been reconfigured to face the front of the classroom in the traditional manner. The students from my 111 group saw me and started to pile into the room to say hello and tell me how much they missed me. Zoir and Aziz both indicated they had tried calling me, perhaps while I was in Nepal, and didn’t get an answer. Zoir told me he had gone to my apartment and knocked on my door, but there was no answer.

The dean came in then and welcomed me back clarifying he had taken the space heater to his office to make sure it was not taken by someone else. He had it returned a few minutes later. Pariso also stopped by and asked where I had been as she had not been told I was out sick. When I asked about my students, she told me they were waiting for me in the classroom next door because it was warmer there. I refused to move and she went to get them. These were not the interpreter students, but the future teachers and I was totally confused. I started by introducing myself again and asking them to introduce each other by using an adjective that began with the same letter as the initial of their first name. I kept a tally of the adjectives so they wouldn’t be repeated. After much confusion, they caught on and were able to do it for the most part.

After separating the class into groups, I gave them a worksheet with a series of phrases that could be used to indicate things they disliked and had then select a person in their groups to be the scribe. This activity took the rest of the hour and left barely enough time to tally their responses on the board. One student, the most outspoken, indicated he’s already teaching at a school in the afternoon and needed help with classroom management. He stated how mad he was that in four years at the PedInst, this was the first class where he had had a chance to do anything interactive. When they were gone, Nigora came in and explained her class had been given to me because she was late this morning. She didn’t know whether I’d have the interpreter students tomorrow or not and said she’d check the schedule at the front and let me know. She didn’t come back and after a few minutes I just left the building.

Went for my usual bowl of soup and then on to Caritas International where I distributed the tokens of gratitude I had brought from Nepal. It was obvious they weren’t expecting anything from me and were very happy to see I had remembered them. Elbek came for his class and had tons of questions about my trip to Nepal, so instead of going over the book, we talked about the differences between Kathmandu and Dushanbe and I showed him my photos and those of both Corrie and Caroline. He was impressed with the size of the city, the huge numbers of people who live there and by how close together the buildings stand. I had not even repaired on the fact that there are no parks or green areas so to speak in Kathmandu except for a sports park and the temple along the river. Every square inch seems to be taken up by buildings, roads and shrines to different Hindu gods and goddesses.

As I was finishing my dinner, Caroline returned and filled me in on the details of the conference Matluba held for the first day. Apparently, Matluba had spent most of the day lecturing the fifteen teachers and complaining about not getting enough support from Multikid. When Caroline told her she would be gone as of Thursday, she asked for Corrie’s phone number so as to have her assistance in the future.

February 26, 2012

Woke up to find leaden skies and the renewed threat of snow. Waited for Caroline to wake up so I could make my scrambled eggs with salami, but by 9:00 she was still asleep and I resigned myself to eating some flat bread and hot chocolate. I started to cook the beef and do the dishes that had piled up when there was no running water. Just as I started to cook the “moros y cristianos”, the power went out. I was beyond mad since I only have a one burner propane balloon and had to decide what to cook first. I went out into the landing, and of course, it was just my unit once again that had no power. Checking the breaker box solved nothing as I could not find which ones belonged to my flat. I went back to my apartment, picked up the dishes that Maryam had sent food in and brought them back to her while at the same time asking her to please help me find the right button in the breaker box. There were two yellow buttons at the end of the row and those were the ones I needed to set upright. I thanked her profusely and was able to continue cooking.

Corrie showed up on time and I recruited her to go fetch Rebecca who had never been to my place and was waiting in front of the Puppet Theater. I served the stewed beef, rice and beans, pickled carrots and beets, flat bread, wine and juices Corrie had brought. I never got around baking anything for dessert and offered them some of the chocolates Takhmina had given me around New Years along with Cuban coffee. Rebecca speaks Russian, something I didn’t know, and has traveled widely in Central Asia. She was giving us recommendations on places to see in both Kirgizstan and Kazakhstan. There weren’t enough leftovers for me to offer both of them to take home and I felt bad about giving Rebecca some and not Corrie. Both Caroline and I took a nap after they left.

I was in the middle of cleaning up the kitchen when someone knocked on the door. It was my landlady’s husband, who speaks no English whatsoever, and who handed me his phone so I could “talk” to his wife. She said some words, I understood nothing, and handed the telephone back to him as I was in no mood to fool around. If she has questions, she needs to find someone who speaks English. Period. He looked around the hallway and peered into the bathroom, shrugged his shoulders and then left.

It was then time to do some serious laundry or at least as many loads as my laundry rack could hold. Since Caroline is quite familiar with it, she offered to hang the pieces of clothing as I brought them out and I managed to do three loads. One remained for the next morning as I had even run out of thermal underwear and leggings. I was still fretting about my return to the PedInst tomorrow and Caroline offered to go with me as a show of support, but I declined as this is something I need to face on my own. I did promise that I would show up, go directly to my classroom and if no students showed up, I'd simply leave. I’m not about to go looking for students or inquire as to any new changes. I’m done with that for sure.

February 25, 2012

I stepped outside after three days of practical hibernation and found brilliant sunshine, warmer temperature than expected and snow that was beginning to melt. I was overdressed, indeed. While waiting for Marydean to pick me up at the bus stop across from my apartment, I saw a young couple having their photo taken with the guy only wearing a t-shirt. Marydean was driving an old Lada, the spare workhorse of the Russian automotive industry, and lived very close to the apartment complex where I spent the first three days in Dushanbe. She showed me the two-bedroom house with its spacious kitchen, bathroom and study and introduced me to her two cats, Marilyn Monroe and Tina Turner.

To my delight, she made freshly brewed Starbucks coffee and served a delicious oatmeal homemade cake. She gave me a key to the house and promised to make an exhaustive list of all the tasks to be done while she’s away and bring it to me before her departure. I’m looking forward to watching some of the DVDs in her extensive collection along with browsing through magazines such Bazaar and Vogue. From her house, I went to the market to shop for tomorrow’s lunch and decided to walk back to my place to enjoy the sunshine and exercise a bit.

Before heading to the supermarket for additional groceries, I knocked on Maryam’s door to give her some beautiful oranges from Iran that I had purchased for her at the bazaar and the presents I had brought her family from Nepal. Nilufar told me Maryam was out with her other daughter taking care of some problem regarding her passport. I gave Nilufar the presents and reassured her I was feeling much better. Coming back from the supermarket with three heavy plastic bags, a teenager at the entrance offered to carry them for me. I couldn’t have been more appreciative.

A few hours later, water started to trickle in and I was able to clean the bathroom and fill up all my containers as snow is predicted again for Monday and I could be without water again. I vacuumed the carpets and tidied up the apartment, marinated the beef and called Ruth to extend her an invitation even though I know she can’t make it to my apartment. She already had other plans, but we agreed to meet next Saturday at the American Corner.

Ryan texted to ask me to join him for lunch tomorrow and, I asked for it to be postponed until next Sunday, to which he agreed. Yoomie has set her departure date for April 12 and I suggested a potluck dinner at her place, and she agreed to hold it on the 7^th.

February 24, 2012

I had a long Skype conversation with my sister Esther about the current state of my mom’s health as her cancer seems to be spreading and she’ll probably need full-time care soon. Thinking about the logistics of moving our mother and ensuring she gets the treatment needed at this point must be a nightmare for my sister. I simply pity her, and I will do what I can to pitch in when I get back to the States this summer.

I spent another day at home nursing my body and working on yet another presentation, this one on poetry, to take place at the American Corner on March 3. I haven’t bothered to do any cooking as I was able to fix the soup Madluba sent me and along with the flat bread and fruit Ryan brought, I have been able to get by as my appetite has yet to rebound. Still no water all day. So I had to take what we Dominicans like to call a “half bath” after heating water on the stove. I desperately need to do some laundry.

Takhmina, at Caritas International, replied to my email asking me to keep the Tajik dress she had loaned me for the trip to Nepal. I feel conflicted about it as I’d hate for her to feel I’m taking advantage of our friendship. I’ll discuss it with her when I see her on Monday for our conversation class.

Caroline received confirmation of her departure date and her itinerary. She only has six days to go. She spent the day at home too as she was sick of attending to so many demands and needed some downtime. We made a pot of Tazo tea, something she had brought from the States, and gossiped some more and speculated about the future of Tajikistan and the people we have met here.

I’m almost done with “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lack” and will be sorry to see it end as it has been such an enthralling read. Caroline asked me yesterday what I was going to do with the many books I have accumulated since there’s no way I’ll have a chance to read all of them in the next four months. I’ll probably donate all of them to the Dushanbe book club since no one of the locals around here likes to read.

February 23, 2012

A full night sleep is still evading me as the coughing never seems to stop. I dashed an email to Ryan asking him for a recommendation on a brand of antibiotics I could buy locally without a prescription. I put together the photos from the trip to Nepal and uploaded the album to Facebook for family and friends to see it. It was 10F outside and I had no running water again as the pipe had frozen. Caroline told me Daroush was going to stop by to see me and he did come around noon. He finishes medical school in two months and has been accepted at a medical school in India to do his specialization in urology. He’s given up on going to the United States to improve his English since one of the requirements is that he proves the source of his income and he was planning on a getting a loan from a friend.

The day was sunny and apparently temperatures were rising as the snow started to drop in huge clumps from the tree branches. I tried the TV and finally got a signal so I could catch up on the news. I dozed off at times especially after draping one of the korpachas over me to stay warm. Ryan replied by saying he’d be coming by after work to check on me before deciding if antibiotics were needed or not. Corrie called from the embassy to say she had an envelope for me and would be coming by later on. Ryan came in all dressed up and looked completely different from his usual Capri pants and T-shirt ensemble. He’d brought his stethoscope and listened to my chest and requested a flashlight to inspect my tongue only to tell me I had a garden-variety type of flu and needed to let it run its course. Corrie came at this point and we sat around gossiping about the ex-pat community in Dushanbe and the ever-present topic of NGOs and whether their work is really useful or appropriate, not to mention extravagant and wasteful at times.

Caroline returned at the same time Ryan was getting ready to leave and seemed totally spent. She related how Madluba had expected for her to type the materials for the upcoming conference for although she has two laptops, she doesn’t know how to type.  Caroline complained about the non-stop demands that all Tajiks place on her while offering nothing in exchange. She hasn’t heard anything from the embassy regarding receipt of her letter of resignation and worries that she might be asked to leave in a day or two as they did with Peter and Elisabeth. She’s almost done packing, but would like to have the certainty of staying until March first to finish her projects and say goodbye to those she cares for. She turned down our suggestion to have a farewell lunch for her on Sunday when I’m expecting Rebecca to come by.

February 17, 2012

My chest and head cold continued to keep me awake at night while my head wouldn’t stop throbbing or my nose leaking. The conference presentations continued all morning and I had my half hour review of my post with both Harry and Magda as we had agreed to do. She appeared genuinely surprised to hear my tale of woes and that the institution had requested a different fellow for next year. When I insinuated that Tahmina, at the embassy, had not bothered to talk to me about it, Harry intervened to deflect the attack by offering once again to have me at one of his posts in Kazakhstan, something I’m still debating whether I should accept or not.

I went over my litany of complaints; especially the lack of a counterpart who could keep me informed about what was going on or who could intervene on my behalf. Harry wholeheartedly agreed and indicated that the best counterparts are usually older professors with authority within the institution who can go to bat for the fellow. I also complained about the slow pace of reimbursements and the fact that the money for the conference in Nepal had yet to be deposited into my account. Magda promised to look into it and get back to me early next week when she returns to Washington, D. C.

A group of us returned to the restaurant where we had eaten the day before and I had the thali plate once again. The afternoon session just dragged on as the presenter asked us to reflect on what we had learned during the past three days and what we could use or implement once we were back at our posts. The Kathmandu RELO had arranged a party to celebrate the 50^th year of publication of the Forum magazine to be held at his house. The embassy provided transportation in two mini-vans and I had to suffer once again through the rush hour traffic, the dust and the noise before getting to the typical American embassy employee’s home: a three story house at the top of hill for a single guy that appears to be gay. Of course, why would you turn down such an offer if you don’t have to pay a penny for it? Typical of the Kathmandu area, his house was next to an empty lot full of trash.

                                                               At Fife's house

He promised that there would be about 100 people from the NELTA organization and had set up a tent on his driveway, but only three people were there when we arrived. I was tired, could barely breathe and wanted nothing, but to lie on my bed and rest. I had on one of my Nepali outfits, as we had taken a group photo earlier in the day, and that saved me from having to make small talk with those present. There was no food or drinks, as apparently the caterers had been delayed in traffic. A woman from the embassy showed up bearing three cakes decorated with the magazine’s logo. I was bored out of my mind.

We finally got to nibble on some cold appetizers and were offered wine and soft drinks. We sang happy birthday, had more photos taken holding the magazine and were finally released to go back to our hotel. The female driver we got this time took a different route and I was able to see that the city had started to build up vertically with office buildings, restaurants and shops occupying up to five floors.

I had had a chance to speak to Caroline for a few minutes and she told she had an appointment at 8:00pm with Magda and Harry to notify them formally of her intention to quit her post at the end of the month. Some members of the group wanted to go out to dinner, but I declined as all I wanted to do was crash. It’s hard to believe that I have been in the city for four days now and haven’t had a chance to be on my own at all. I hope to be able to go to the Thamel area, my old stomping grounds, tomorrow after the conference to buy a few things.

February 22, 2012

I hadn’t been at my computer for an hour when the power went out. I didn’t think much of it since it usually gets restored within the hour, but after about three hours I was beginning to feel really cold and miserable. I put on my coat and gloves and ventured into the landing where the light bulb was on thus confirming that only my unit was once again in the dark. I reviewed the breaker box and all the switches were on, but the box for my unit showed no activity whatsoever. Caroline and I were afraid that even if I had paid the bill the day before power had been cut nonetheless and she decided to call Dilya who could then call the landlady. As usual, my landlady refused to answer her phone and I asked her to please call the utilities guy who kindly had given us his phone number as reassurance that he’d be back with a receipt for my payment.

Four hours went by and when he came, there was no power in the entire building. I must have been running a low temperature by then and could not keep myself warm no matter what I did. The temperature outside couldn't have been higher than 20F. I kept my coat and gloves on as the guy told me hadn’t ordered my power supply cut off and handed me a properly stamped receipt contrary to the guy who came in December and disappeared with my payment. Nilufar happened to be on the steps and came up to say hello while I asked her to stay away as I was really sick and didn’t want to pass it on to her. She could see how frustrated and angry I was and returned with flat bread, a lemon, some cookies and muffins for me. It made me cry to see how much she and her mother care for me as she tried to cajole me into coming to their apartment to feel more comfortable, but I didn’t want to parade my sorry state around and remained in my flat.

Later on, Maryam came up herself bearing another bowl with raspberry jam and butter asking me to add it to my tea so as to feel better. I hadn’t even noticed that the power was back up until she turned on the lights in the hallway to show me. She gave me a big hug and asked again that I come downstairs for company, but that was the last thing I wanted to do. Instead, I caught up with my email and Facebook updates and even got to post the blogs I had been keeping while in Nepal, but which I hadn’t had a chance to post yet. Ruth called to tell me that students and teachers at her post simply loved her and were thrilled to have an American teacher in their midst while providing all photocopying for her. She thought I should consider moving to that institution forgetting that Georgetown doesn’t have an agreement with them.

Marydean called to confirm my return and set up a time to show me her house. She informed that nine inches of snow had fallen the previous day and offered to come pick me up on Saturday at 10:00am to take me to her house.

Caroline came back in the evening with the grocery items I had requested and some shorbot soup Madluba had sent me. So as not to break the established pattern, her soup had no seasonings whatsoever and very little salt. I plan to work on it tomorrow to make it palatable. She also informed me that Madluba planned to hold her two-day conference beginning on Monday and had asked if I could help out. That’s the same day I’m supposed to return to the PedInst and might not want to extend my absence much more. Caroline is notifying the embassy tonight of her resignation effective March 1.

Nilufar then knocked on the door bearing yet another platter, this time with plov for me to have for dinner. Caroline had had dinner at Madluba’s and I had eaten a piece of the flat bread with raspberry jam and could not stomach the idea of any more food. It should be really good for lunch tomorrow.

February 21, 2012

After trying for hours to fall asleep in one of the hard benches in the waiting area, I approached the coffee shop and asked for a cup of coffee and the clerk quoted me a price in the local currency. I countered by saying I only had dollars and she promptly showed two cups, one so tiny as to be suitable for a doll’s house, and the other the size I might have in my own flat. I pointed to the last one and she pulled a calculator to show me $10.00 as the price I needed to pay. I shook my head certain that a misunderstanding was taking place and walked away intending to return when Corrie was awake and could help with the translation. When that happened, I learned there had been no mistake as the clerk was asking for that amount for the bigger cup or five for the small one. I told Corrie they could keep their coffee and walked away.

Caroline happened to have some local currency from our previous trip and offered to get me a cup of coffee from the coffee machine nearby and succeeded in doing so. It was not great, but took the edge of the headache that had parked at my temples. Six hours is a long time to wait anywhere, but especially so when there is nothing to do and even reading seems like a challenge with the constant chatter of announcements coming out of the PA system and the blue haze of smoke hanging over everything. At 9:30am, we were herded back downstairs and made to walk on the slippery snow to board a bus for the short ride to where the plane was parked. I asked Corrie if she had ever taken off on a plane with so much snow on the ground as we could see and she said no. We got off the bus and walked up to the stairs only to be told to wait there while the snow continued to fall all around us. Five to ten minutes later, we were told to get back on the bus as the flight was delayed, but even Corrie didn’t know why. We were herded into the same room from which I had been prevented from escaping the smoke previously and this time the TV set was broadcasting some Russian program with the volume on full  blast. Even with my earplugs on I could hear everything that I was being said.

Thankfully, after a few more minutes we were called back onto the bus and then boarded the plane which sat on the tarmac for a long time. I had another coughing attack and the guy sitting next to me just waited until the seatbelts could be taken off to switch seats. I didn’t blame him as I sounded like someone with terminal tuberculosis. We were given only a hot pocket type of thing for breakfast and drinks. Approaching Dushanbe, Corrie confirmed my worst fear: it was also snowing in the city. The taxi driver could not make it down the hill and Caroline had to drag my bag through inches of snow and then up the four flights of stairs as I could barely breathe.

 I made a pot of tea and concocted a soup from whatever I could find in the cupboards and fridge before taking a bath and then heading to bed. I had asked Caroline to contact the dean and let him know I was really sick and would not be able to teach classes for the rest of the week as my voice was gone.

I woke at 8:00pm, groggy and disoriented before realizing that Caroline was staying with me and was in the living room catching up with her email. I had some more tea and went back to bed.

February 20, 2012

After another night where I barely slept but a few minutes before my hacking started all over again, I packed my bags and picked up my hotel room before heading to the dining room for our last breakfast at the hotel. Joe and Valerie were finishing up while Caroline sat at another table talking to another ELF. I had a masala omelet, potatoes and coffee before joining the others in the courtyard where the taxi driver was already waiting for us. While Sunday had been a holiday to celebrate democracy, a new one Nepalis started observing just four years ago, today was Lord Shiva’s celebration and true to form, throngs of kids had placed ropes across the road leading to Bakhtapur to shake down money from drivers supposedly for their schools. I was able to see glimpses of the landscape I used to enjoy in Gaindakot as many people around here still had extensive kitchen gardens where mustard greens and other vegetables were growing.

We had been told that a fee of 1100.00 rupees or $15.00 had to be paid to gain entrance to the city and only hoped it was worth it. The driver offered the services of friend of his who worked there as a tour, but Joe turned down the offer. The minute we stepped out of the car, we were surrounded by vendors, aspiring tour guides and children begging for money. Joe had no trouble shaking them off while one of the tour guides attached himself to Valerie and tried to convince her to go and visit his music school where most likely she’d asked to make a donation. Once inside the main square, we could hundreds of women and a few men carrying the traditional platter covered with crocheted dollies making their way to the numerous statues and niches where they could offer their “pujas” or offerings. For all the money they were collecting at the entrance, the city seemed quite shabby with its uneven cobblestones, crumbling buildings and ponds covered with scum.

I found a Nepali magnet for Ryan, but no other tourist’s oriented items seemed to be on offer as the city, although a historical jewel is still a working one and the shops were of the mom and pop variety catering to the locals’ needs. Back at the entrance, I had a chance to buy a few necklaces and billfolds to take back for friends and neighbors in Tajikistan. Kids were back with their ropes up, but our drivers barked something at them to let us pass and it worked. I went back to my room to change into my winter outfit, changed money at the front desk and tipped those who had been so gracious for the last six days. The hotel also had a box at the front desk where guest can deposit tips to be shared by all staff members. Harry had arranged transportation to the airport for all of us, and I went around the corner to have one more cup of tea before our departure.  The ride took forever as it seemed as if the entire city of Kathmandu was making its way to the Pashupatinah Temple on the banks of the River. Since sidewalks continue to be nonexistent in the city, people took to the edge of the road walking four or five abreast from babies to the old in one long wave. There was no air conditioner in the van and thus both David and the driver had their windows rolled down letting in all the dust so prevalent there.

We must have gone through at least five different x-ray machines and three body searches, done by women and very through ones indeed, before we got into the Air India plane. I sat next to Barbara, from Bellevue, WA, and we shared our experiences while her husband tried to read the newspaper. The airline served chicken tika, rice and lentils and for once I decided to forgo my ban on chicken and ate everything on the platter. Upon landing, a representative from Air Astana led us to waiting area while he processed our documents and issued us boarding tickets. I sat across from David who started to talk to me in Spanish while trying to convince me that a move to Kazakhstan could be a good one because that way he would have another person to talk to. His Spanish was decent and he claimed to have had girlfriends from both Mexico and Peru.

I remembered to get a New Delhi magnet for Ryan and then sat to take my boots off while waiting for the hours it would take for us to depart for Almity where we arrived at 3:00am. It was snowing in Almity. Harry, Valerie, Sally and David said goodbye and we were escorted to the waiting area of the airport where to my dismay and frustration, the smoking lounge door was open spilling smoke into the entire area. I walked up there once and asked for the door to be kept locked, but every time someone walked out, he/she left it opened. The entire airport is one big room with a coffee shop/bar in one corner, a VIP lounge for a British airline, a small Duty Free shop and another one selling handbags. I had nowhere to go here and decided to go back downstairs where I had seen another waiting are totally empty. A female guard saw me heading down and stopped saying I could not go back downstairs. When she got distracted with another passenger, I headed downstairs nonetheless. Two other people were fast asleep on the benches and I tried to recline using my two shoulder bags as a pillow, but it was a no go. I’d doze off for a couple of minutes until some stupid announcement came on that seemed to run on a loop forever.

Three more guards came by and compelled me to return to the main waiting area totally unconcerned that I could barely breathe there and that the smoke was unbearable. Both Caroline and Corrie had fallen asleep placidly.

February 19, 2012

I barely slept a wink with the constant cough and the restlessness of worrying about making my presentation today. While drinking my three cups of masala tea, I practiced giving the presentation twice and still felt nervous as I seemed to be going too fast one time and thus running out of slides or too slow the other and never getting to everything I wanted to cover. When I got to the dining room, I saw Caroline sitting with three other ELFs and just waved at her while taking a seat at the table where Sally was finishing her breakfast. She reminded me she was staying tonight at a monastery recommended by a friend, but promised to come to my presentation for moral support.

As she was leaving, Magda came by and took a seat. I had arranged to talk with her in private later on in the day, but decided to ask her if she didn’t mind doing so now. She didn’t,  and I proceeded to tell about the way the embassy personnel in Dushanbe had treated me from the moment I got there and the fact that Tahmina had never bothered to notify me that my application to renew my post had been denied and why. I reiterated my suspicion that she didn’t see me as real “American” and was the one behind the plan to get somebody else next year. In addition, I related the conversation I had had with David, Valerie and Gabrielle where they had indicated that racism in Kazakhstan was also rampart and that I might not do much better there. Gabrielle told me that an African-American ELF posted to her city had quit shortly after her arrival due to the constant harassment.

According to Magda, as executive director of the ELF program, she has never been made aware of any ELF quitting a post due to racism and she’d like to talk to Gabrielle about the incident at her post so she can look into it when she gets back to Washington, D. C.  She promised to look into my complaint about Tahmina and get back to me. John, the ELF posted in Turkmenistan, and who has been missing from the entire conference, came to join us at the table and later William, posted in Bangladesh, did the same. I left and took a taxi to the conference as I was wearing the long Tajik dress Takhmina had loaned and my dress boots while also lugging my laptop for the presentation.

I attended a plenary on vocabulary taught by our English Language Specialist, Fredricka Stoller, and learned a new technique called “word splash”, which I hope she’ll be willing to share with me. Next was Rod Ellis, from New Zealand who spoke about teaching English through task-based activities. The room was packed and people stood at the windows trying to listen in while many other teachers recorded the entire presentation using their cell phones. I left the room five minutes earlier as I needed to retrieve my own laptop which I had lent to Corrie for her presentation.

Magda, Harry, Sally and Joe were present in the room upon my return and helped me set up the computer. I looked up and the room was full to capacity and people were standing at the back in two rows. Perhaps my presentation benefitted from the fact that one of the plenary presenters, a loud English woman, had made a reference to it the day before. I started on time and added a couple of personal anecdotes about my own reading experiences and the ones I had had here in Nepal while teaching senior students. I also mentioned that even some of the poorest school now had access to the Internet and an extensive database due to the implementation of the One Laptop per Child program.  I never got to the end of my presentation and at 1:05, I stopped to ask if they had any questions about the topic. No one did and when I said I was done, there was a stampede to the door as lunch was being served and Nepalis traditionally have their lunch much earlier in the day.

Sally came and gave a hug telling me how wonderful the presentation had been and a couple of teachers said the same. One came to ask how she could have access to additional resources to enrich the reading experience of her students as the laptop program had not yet reach her school. I referred her to Fife MacDuff at the American Embassy as he’d know exactly where she should go. As I walked out of the room, Harry approached and effusively congratulated me on my talk saying he had never even heard the term before both Stoller and the English woman mentioned it. He felt that I had kept my audience “at the edge of their seat” and had probably taught them something they had never learned about before. Joe and I had agreed to skip the daahl baaht lunch at the conference and head back to sleek and clean place we both liked. I wanted to go back to the hotel to change clothes and get rid of my laptop before heading out to the Thamel area where I had hoped to buy a few presents for family and friends.

                                                 Joe and I, wearing my atlas Tajik dress, in front of a restaurant.

Corrie, Valerie and Tara were planning on ditching the rest of the conference as well even when I felt bad since Sally was presenting that afternoon, but our schedule had been so tightly packed, we hadn’t had any chance of doing any sightseeing daytime and the day was clear and sunny, something we hadn’t had earlier in the week. Thamel was the same hellhole I remember and even more congested, loud and dusty as construction was still going on all around us. I didn’t recognize any of the shops and only found two restaurants that appeared familiar while more shops seemed to cater to Buddhist believers. Jewelry set in silver, which could have been purchased for a song ten years ago, now cost almost four times the price as the owner informed me that silver had shot up in value following the price of gold. I got a few trinkets, the shawl for my sister Esther, and found a place to order the paneer butter masala I had been hunkering for, but didn’t enjoyed it as it didn’t resemble what I used to eat at all. Corrie was surprised to hear me use the few words of Nepali I still remember with the restaurant staff.

Since there were five of us, it took forever to wait for everyone to select the items they wanted to buy, but I was finally in taxi back to the hotel with Corrie. We all had agreed to hire a taxi early in the morning to visit the historical city of Baktapur before departing for the airport. The driver had agreed to take us there, give us two hours to see the place and bring us back to the hotel by 11:00am. We need to check out of the hotel by noon and head to the airport at the same time, way too early for a 3:45pm flight in my opinion.

February 18, 2012

I got up early to work on my presentation tomorrow at the NELTA conference. I tried to practice reading it to give myself more confidence and yet, I still dread the idea of getting up in front of a bunch of people to talk about this somewhat obscure topic. When I got to the dining room, only Magda was having breakfast as apparently everybody else had chosen to walk to the Saint Xavier’s School to avoid paying for a taxi. Lisa joined us a few minutes later and we all agreed on sharing a taxi to get there on time. I was wearing my dress boot and was not about to walk forty minutes on them.

Registration was a fast process, but the event went down from there. Some of those invited to sit at the dais were late, supposedly due to the traffic even though it was a holiday in Kathmandu. The organizers refused to modify the agenda and proceeded to have one person after other give speeches, some of them in such poor English we couldn’t understand anything they said. They gave bouquets of flowers to everyone of them in addition to bags containing books and other materials. At the end of these frivolities, we were already one hour behind schedule and then came tea time for which I didn’t even bother as standing in line doesn’t appeal to me. We then had three keynote speakers in a row, something I had never seen done at a conference, with the last speaker finishing at 2:30pm. We were given half hour for lunch in the school’s canteen and told individual presentations would start promptly at 3:00. The lines snaked around the school yard, but I acted in a sneaky way and told one of the organizers we were presenting after lunch and needed to be fed immediately. He took us to the front of the line and we got some more daahl baaht, this time cold for the most part, from huge stainless vats. I wasn’t even that hungry as my cold had taken my appetite away.

I had a chance to observe Joe, David and Valerie’s presentations, all of which faced problems with technology, lack of space and then time constraints. Magda and Harry observed all presentations which made me even more nervous about tomorrow. At the end, we went to the Himalaya Hotel for a reception hosted by the British Council where we were offered a repast of what we had at Fife’s house: wine, beer and whiskey, and some terrible appetizers, all of them fried. There were no pakhoras or samosas to be had. I had two glasses of white wine and a couple pieces of fried paneer and left it at that. Apparently the idea had been to just have a mixer as no one spoke and we just mingle in the courtyard until a few of us decided to take a taxi to back to the hotel. Once again, I didn’t bother with dinner.

February 16, 2012

I hardly slept the night before as my throat was once again on fire. I chewed on one lozenge after another as I prayed for daylight so I could order another pot of tea to soothe the irritation. I promptly got my tea and started to feel slightly better. I joined the table where Beth, who’s serving in Afghanistan, was sitting and she was telling us the security measures she must take every day in order to get to her university.

We then had a session on change so as to examine why our counterparts and colleagues might be reluctant to implement the changes we recommend even if they are perceived as being beneficial for all of those involved. Corrie, Caroline and I then presented what we considered to be our challenges and successes at our respective posts and asked for advice on how to deal with it. Since I had just been moved to another group of students, I didn’t know yet what kind of challenges I’d be facing. The other ELFs felt sorry for my situation and the two RELOs present felt they needed to intervene in this case. I don’t know exactly what they meant by that. Caroline indicated how proactive I had been in seeking answers from both the staff at the PedInst and the embassy, but to no avail.

Harry held me back when everyone else left for lunch and was sincerely apologetic indicating he should have made an effort to visit the institution when he was in Dushanbe and been more proactive when a problem cropped up. He’d like to have me work with him in Kazakhstan next year where he swears working conditions would be much better and I’d be treated like a professional. I have an appointment with the director of the ELF program tomorrow and Harry would like to be present. I have no objections to that.

Barbara, who’s posted here in Kathmandu, offered to take us to the Buddhist stupa and about twelve of us agreed to go. We piled into three taxis and made our way through the dusty, narrow lanes barely missing motorcyclists, pedestrians and still more dogs. It took about forty minutes to get there and daylight was already fading. I took a few photos and did the clockwise walk around the stupa while marveling at the throngs of monks of all ages and faithful Tibetans that continued to do their prostrations and prayers despite being ogled and photographed by us, the insensitive Westerners.

We took another taxi, for what seemed like an eternity, to reach a local restaurant Barbara recommended. I’m glad no one is depending on me to guide them anywhere as I still don’t recognize the city I left ten years ago. We went past many tall buildings advertising all sorts of merchandise, usually with signs in English that were misspelled.  The restaurant appeared to be new with lots of glossy wood trim and tasteful art work on the walls along with Tibetan bowls set in niches to display them. I ended up sitting across from Magda, the ELF program director, and learned she had been to the Dominican Republic years ago when they used to have a fellow posted there. She’s originally from Poland and likes beer with her food, as most Germans do. I ordered the Tarkari plate with fish, had a momo from Beth’s plate and some spicy appetizer from Joe’s. My plate had a mound of mashed taro root in the center as opposed to rice, but it was like eating our mangu except it had no salt or oil in it. The meal was delicious and the group chipped in to pay for Barbara’s meal as a gesture of thanks for taking us there. The food cost less than half what our hotel charges and Joe and I plan to return tomorrow for lunch as it is not that far from the hotel.

February 15, 2012

I was able to enjoy the luxury of ordering a small pot of masala tea to be brought up to my room as soon as the kitchen was open at 6:30am. This was something I always treated myself to when the Peace Corps brought us into the city for conferences and professional development sessions.

The buffet-style breakfast, included in the price of the room, offered a wide selection of dishes and I sat with other ELFs while eating some more curry vegetables, puri bread and baked tomatoes. Our first session started at 9:00am and consisted of a very confusing warm-up during which we passed different pieces of potatoes around and said everybody’s name. Not one to be added to my repertoire. There were the usual technical glitches and then we went on to review the results of an online survey Georgetown had conducted to see how we were faring at our respective posts. After that, we gathered in groups of three and contributed what we thought had been a successful activity. I talked about my grammar games session at the American Corner, we looked for commonalities and then wrote those on a flip chart to share with the others.

Subsequently, three other ELFs shared what had been their challenges and successes and the RELO asked for input as to what other solutions could be found for those problems that remained unresolved. Lunch was at the hotel as we didn’t have enough time to venture out. Corrie, Caroline and David opted for eating fruit they had purchased the night before and skipped lunch altogether. The afternoon session dragged on as other ELFs presented their problems and successes including the last guy, a very old man who had not even been able to put together a PowerPoint presentation and who started his session by saying he was the right person to be assigned to Turkmenistan because he was male, agile and patient. He regaled us with stories about his posts, but never got around to what problems or success he might be facing there. The RELO called the remaining ELFs who have not presented yet and asked us to make sure we stick to the script and observe the time constraint tomorrow.

Most of us agreed to go for walk to the Patan Square area at the end of the session and have dinner nearby. As it is usually the case, we stood around for about half hour, while daylight faded away, waiting for this person or another. I really dislike going anywhere with a crowd and it was a mistake to agree to this arrangement. There were about 12 of us and given the lack of sidewalks, we practically had to walk single file while fending off bicycles, cars and motorcycles, the occasional dog and people bearing loads. The honking of horns got on my nerves the minute I started walking and when we got the square, we were surrounded by vendors bearing the typical souvenirs: embroidered bags, flags, necklaces, amulets and so on. I know that if I had been by myself, I could have gone undetected. William and David did offer to buy some of the stuff and that only got the attention of other vendors who quickly swarmed around us touching me on my arms and back to get my attention. I felt as if I was back in Agra, at the Taj Mahal, fending off touts of every kind so I could enjoy a quiet view of the monument.

Eventually, we made our way to a restaurant where all the staff is deaf-mute and you order your meal using sign language. I wasn’t particularly hungry and neither was Tara, so we decided to share an order of momos and another lassi for me. The momos, a steamed kind of pot stickers, were bland and only lukewarm. I felt the beginning of a cold as I could barely swallowed my food and was about to drop from exhaustion. We walked back to the hotel aided by the flashlight William had been cautious enough to pack as there was no power then.

I found a book on the coffee table of the hotel, “Elephant Polo”, which deals with the construction of a hotel by a group of Dutch trekkers and started reading it. 

February 14, 2012

My $85.00 dollars a night room featured a defective shower head that sprayed water in every direction, but my head. I had been looking forward to washing my hair under a powerful spray, something I don’t have in Dushanbe. I didn’t even have access to the BBC channel so I could catch up with the news as every channel broadcast was in a local language. Breakfast was included in the price of the room and they had a decent selection of puri bread, vegetable curry, hot porridge, eggs and toast, and cold cereal. I ordered tea masala to break the grip of the headache that was pounding at my temples and then coffee and some more tea. The day was overcast and Corrie’s suggestion that we hire a cab to take us around the city before departing for the airport didn’t appeal to me.

We departed for the airport three hours before our flight, which I thought was way too early. Caroline, Corrie and Sally went to look at the myriad of stores and restaurants the airport contains and even had henna drawings done on their hands. They encouraged me to do the same, as I was bored out of my mind, but I stuck to reading my book. Our flight was delayed by another hour and we didn’t arrive at our hotel in Kathmandu until 5:30pm. Looking through the cab’s window I could tell that nothing much had changed in the city and what changes had taken place had been for the worst. More people crowded onto cars, buses, and tempos and a veritable river of motorcycles seemed to be flowing around us. The noise level, the lack of sidewalks, the same unfinished houses left that way on purpose so the tax man doesn’t change the appraised value, the dust everywhere, the sounding of horns from every vehicle, motorcycle and bicycle as they tried to make their way through the congested streets, the dusty children and appalling poverty were all still there. I never cared to visit Kathmandu during my Peace Corps years here and simply resent having to be here now.

Our taxi crawled its way to the Summit Hotel through lanes so narrow I couldn’t understand how the SUV ahead of us could turn while avoiding pedestrians, motorcycles and dogs. The hotel sits atop a hill overlooking the Patan area of the city and is surrounded by beautifully landscaped grounds. The pollution didn’t allow us to see even a peak of the mountains. My room was small, tidy and very clean including a desk and access to the Internet for 4.00 Euros a day. The hotel rate for us was 32.00 Euros. I agreed to have dinner at the hotel with Harry as I didn’t feel like venturing out in the dark as Corrie, Sally and Caroline decided to do. They had counted on me to be their tour guide, but I clarified that I was totally unfamiliar with this area and would be of no help to them. I can’t even remember any of little Nepali I knew then.

When I got to the dining room, Valerie and Harry were already sitting and I ordered the thali plate and a banana lassi. They brought me a lot of food, including two types of lentils, but I can’t say that it reminded me of what I used to eat when I was here ten years ago. The lassi was the same though. I learned that Harry will be departing Kazakhstan this year as he has been reassigned to the Gulf Region and needs a year to learn Arabic, which he’ll be doing while living in the Washington, D. C. Not a bad deal I’d say.

February 13, 2012

I tossed and turned while listening to planes take off and land and was up before 6:00am with a pounding headache. I knew there was no way I could wait until 8:00 to get my caffeine fix and devised a plan to get the receptionist to offer me coffee. I came down with my bottle of Benadryl and told her I needed a cup of coffee to take my pill for in fact there wasn’t even a single glass in the room. She started to say that breakfast started at eight, but I countered I wasn’t hungry and only wanted coffee. She caved in and pointed me in the direction of the restaurant where I found no cooks or servers, but a cart with plates and utensils along with coffee granules and sugar. I had already seen the hot water urn lit, so I figured hot water was available and I would survive. I had a cup of coffee just standing there and got a refill to take to my room.

At 8:30am, I knocked on Caroline’s door and found her still asleep. When we made our way to the restaurant, we found another woman who looked American and it was Sally, who is the only ELF serving in Kirgizstan. We shared a table and our respective stories while we waited for our omelets, which came with no filling whatsoever or any sauce for that matter. I had a small cup of muesli and convinced the server to toast my bread. We all decided to stick around the hotel as it was still snowing lightly outside and the hotel seemed to be located in an industrial area surrounded by a shantytown. The hotel had been arranged so that we pay for a 12 hour stay a total of $68.00 and since we arrived at 3:00am local time, needed to be out of the room by 3:00pm. My room stank to high heaven and no one came to look at the problem. There was only one channel broadcasting in English, the BBC, and they continued to cover the death of Whitney Houston every 15 minutes. I turned to my book, “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks”, the fascinating story of the African-American woman whose cancer cells were collected in 1951 and are still reproducing thus allowing researchers to make significant breakthroughs on different diseases. It’s a mesmerizing tale and hard to put once one gets started.

Harry showed up around noon to make sure we were all together and knew how to get to the airport. Caroline reminded that I wanted to ask Harry about my chances of extending my fellowship at the PedInst and left to give me some privacy. Harry tried to be polite about it, but it was clear that my request for an extension had been denied and he wouldn’t tell me why indicating that I needed to speak to Tahmina at the embassy when I got back to Dushanbe. I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach and knew, with 99.9 percent certainty, that the decision had to do with my skin color and ethnicity. Tahmina and I had never clicked and she was the deciding factor in this decision, so I’m convinced she wants to get another white, hopefully blond and blue-eye fellow at the institution where she studied, taught for three years and where she continues to have a close relationship with her former classmate, the dean. Harry tried to reassure me that I could have a chance to continue my fellowship by applying to one of his posts in Kazakhstan as he not been able to fill all of them and this year he has eight available. I went up to my room to avoid crying in public. Caroline was beside herself when I told her.

David, another ELF in Kazakhstan, joined on the way to the airport and there we met Gabrielle and later on Valerie who raved about living in Almity and how upscale everything was. She complained about being underutilized at her post, a feeling similar to mine, but feeling fulfilled because she gets to do a lot of cool activities at the American Corner. Our flight departed on time and we were served fish for dinner with a substantial salad and dessert, so Air Astana gets rave reviews from me. Arriving in New Delhi was a pleasant surprise for the airport had been remodeled and featured great colors, fabulous artwork, lots of fresh plants and many upscale shops. The hotel had sent a driver and we were whisked to a rather unpleasant part of the city even if the Radisson Hotel was nearby.

Since only Caroline and I had been in India previously, the rest of the group wanted to at least take a walk before going to bed. There were no sidewalks and lots of vendors trying to squeeze their little stands or quioks anywhere possible thus blocking the way for pedestrians. It was already 10:00pm, but I agreed to do so anyway so I could stretch my legs after spending so many hours cooped up at the either the hotel or airport. Corrie seemed to be extremely excited to be in New Delhi and wanted to buy some souvenirs, I guess to prove she had been there. We ended up going to the Radisson Hotel, and through a security screening similar to the one at the airport, before we headed to some shops where Corrie and David bought some items. I recommended heading back to the hotel as it was nearly 11:00 and they wanted to have dinner there. I promptly took a long shower and went to bed exhausted.

February 12, 2012

It started snowing right before I was about to leave my apartment building. I knocked on Maryam’s door to let her know I’d be gone for a sometime and then trundled through the snow and up the hill to the street where the taxi driver promised to meet me. It was cold and the wind whipped the snow around cutting down visibility and driving it between my scarf and coat. I think I only stood there for less than five minutes, but they seemed like an eternity. The drive to airport was less than 15 minutes, but when I tried to go through the gates I was stopped because I could not proceed until an announcement for my flight was made through the intercom. Neither Corrie nor Caroline had arrived yet and they did and we went through security and the check-in process, we were told the flight had been postponed until 10:50pm. The Air Astana representative asked if we had a place to stay in Dushanbe and promptly said no as I didn’t want to go back to my apartment where I had unplugged everything and consumed all my groceries. I knew the airline here would be responsible if we came from out of town. The guy informed us that a hotel room and meals would be provided along with transportation to and from the hotel.

We were taken to the Asia Hotel, two blocks from my house, and given individual rooms in what appeared to be a deserted building. The rooms were beautiful, spacious and quiet. We proceeded to the restaurant and met two other travelers, one from Kazakhstan and the other a Korean, and had the customary 1.5 hour wait until they brought me a piece of salmon and vegetables. A young couple from Kazakhstan joined us later and we were able to ask them questions about the city of Almaty.  I had been unable to eat the lamb soup I had ordered as an appetizer as it came in a clear broth with what appeared to be chunks of beef and no seasonings whatsoever. Corrie ended up eating it. I went back to my room and took a nap. We went back for dinner, and since the airline was paying, both Caroline and Corrie wanted to order dessert, but all they had was pieces of chocolate, which they turned down. We all commented on how it didn’t seem like we were in Dushanbe anymore surrounded by such luxury and relatively decent food.

The same representative came for us at 9:00pm and drove us back to the airport under the still relentless snow that continued to fall all day long. The flight didn’t depart until midnight, but at least the crew spoke English and provided us with newspapers and snacks. We landed at 2:00am and were greeted by our RELO who had arranged for transportation to the local hotel. The temperature was around zero degree and it was very windy. Even Caroline, more used to cold weather than I am, commented on how the cold here seemed to have “a bite to it”. There was snow everywhere and I almost slipped coming up the steps of the hotel. We were informed that breakfast was included in the rate, but would not be available until 8:00am. I asked if they had coffee service in the room and was told no. Harry arranged for our transportation to the airport the next day and we said goodbye.

The hallway was completely dark except for a floor lamp placed here and there and my room was cavernous, lightly furnished and stinky as the bathroom didn’t seem to be flushing properly. There was a space heater in the middle of the room and a regular radiator below the bank of windows and yet, the room was still cold. I got under the covers, draped my coat over me to try and catch up on the lost sleep.

February 11, 2012

When I got to the American Corner at 9:45am, I saw many of the attendees milling around in front of the building and suspected that Bakhtyor had overslept. I called him, and he indicated he was on his way. Caroline got the teachers into group by carrying out an activity in front of the building while I followed Bakhtyor upstairs and arranged the snacks and drinks.

Corrie showed up and we chatted in the other room as Caroline was showing clips from the “Shaping the Way we Teach English” DVD and didn’t need our help with handouts or crowd control. Corrie happened to mention that Tahmina had told her she had been confirmed to stay for another year teaching the journalist students. I couldn’t help but comment on how the embassy didn’t seem to offer information on an equal basis and left it at that.

A young woman approached me to inform me she wanted to become my “assistant” whenever I’d be required to make presentations on behalf of the embassy. She received a master degree in ESOL last year form a university in India and needs to do some teaching here until the next school year begins. Once I disavowed of the notion that I was working directly for the embassy and could offer her volunteering work, Nehry still wanted to work with the ELFs. We exchanged numbers but don’t see what good would come out of it. Ruth came in and we caught with each other’s news while waiting for Caroline to finish her presentation. Nancy and David joined us later on. They finally have their OVIR registration, airplane tickets and apartment lined and will be heading to Khujand on Monday.

Since we had been so pleased with the Praga Restaurant last week, we all trooped over there to find it empty except for one couple. I guess the kitchen couldn’t cope with eight diners and we waited more than 1.5 hours for our food. I had had a very early breakfast of just bread and hot chocolate and quickly got extremely irritable for the one waiter kept going by not even looking at us and of course, here they don’t offer you bread or any kind of appetizer for you to munch on. At one point, I asked Corrie to please check with the kitchen or I’d leave since I could have walked to my house, cooked a meal and eaten by then. When my food came, it was cold and only the French fries were hot. The bell peppers, which had come in different colors and a very crisp texture last week, had disintegrated this time along with some tomato slices. They had been cooked separately, so the meat had no seasonings or color whatsoever. I was tempted to fling the dish at the waitress and be done with it. I’m definitely running out of places where I can even attempt to eat in this city.

Caroline informed she had another bag to bring to the house and I went home to do the dishes and clear some space in the fridge so she can store whatever groceries she might purchase. I started to pack and revise my list of documents. Both Corrie and Caroline will take a mini-van to the airport while I plan on hiring a taxi to take me there directly.

February 10, 2012

Although the temperature had risen slightly, I still had no water this morning. I showed up at the PedInst at 9:00 to get the room set up and promptly unpacked the space heater and rearranged the desks for groups of four instead of the usual rows facing the blackboard. A couple of male students came by to chitchat and then the two students who had accompanied me to purchase the whiteboard came in with the legs for it. The whiteboard is flimsier than I expected and the floor is so warped that it wobbles every time I write something on it. Still, it beats having to write on the blackboard. Many students stood at the doorway watching in awe as the process was completed.

The 9:30 class had only seven students, future teachers who have already completed their practicum. They indicated their practicum was only one month long and they taught classes on their own while a faculty member from the PedInst came by to observe them. The concurred with me that one month was too short a period of time to gain enough experience and comfort level in the classroom. This group is only getting a bachelors degree in education and will need to teach for three years before getting their certification as educators. It sounded very similar to our alternative educator certification process in the States, but ours is intended for people who don’t have a degree in education.

My space heater failed me miserably as it never warmed up the place and you’d not have known it was there unless you stood right next to it. Perhaps it needs to be on for several hours before it puts out enough heat to do so. The female students were quite vocal in complaining about the cold. Nigora came in once again to ask about my availability on Saturdays despite my having told her several times that I don’t teach on Saturdays. Just like Pariso before, she wanted for me to take over one of her earlier classes because she teaches someplace else at that time. I waited fruitlessly for the 11:00 students to show up and then she told me the dean was teaching them in that time slot. I was beyond perplexed and showed her the schedule he had fashioned for me including a class at that particular time. She just shrugged her shoulders saying he was the dean and could do whatever he wanted and so I was free to go home.

I then went to Caritas to retrieve the Tajik dress Takhmina had brought for me to wear to the presentation in Nepal and the Forum magazines I had left behind. I took the trolley and made my way to the printing office to pick up my business cards and finally made it home where I was ecstatically happy to hear water coming out of the bathroom faucet. I proceeded to fill all of my containers just in case as more snow is predicted for early next week.

I took some time to start gathering the documents and sundries I’ll need to travel to Nepal. I contacted Valerie, the ELF I met in Washington, D. C. and currently posted in Almity, so we can have dinner when we arrive there on Sunday. She mentioned a Thai restaurant and my mouth immediately watered.

I called Marydean about Caroline’s proposal to house sit instead of me and she wasn’t interested as she indicated not to recall meeting Caroline on New Year’s Eve and being dismayed that she planned on leaving her fellowship early. I sent Caroline an email even though I know she hasn’t paid for an Internet connection this month. I’ll have to talk to her tomorrow after the presentation.

February 9, 2012

When I got to the PedInst this morning, Nigora was nowhere to be found and the dean’s office was closed. My classroom was open and I decided to wait for her there while chitchatting with some of my former students who had seen me come in. There was no power and the room was freezing. Nigora took me to her classroom which had been warmed up a bit earlier and I found only six students out of a group of 22 future interpreters. The dean showed up and seemed genuinely surprised to see me there while commenting that students were still straggling in from their winter break and to give them some time. By 11:20, I still had the same number of students and proceeded with my introduction. When I started to write some questions for them to introduce themselves, the one student with the more fluency, told me this was supposed to be a conversation class only. I told him to trust me as nowhere I had gone for a so called “conversation” class, had the students being able to do just that. Low and behold, they couldn’t even answer the simple questions about their names and the two female students refused to talk at all. A student, originally from Turkmenistan, could not speak but a few broken phrases. The students confirmed this is their last year of studies, so they are expected to get a degree in June.

Nigora, who had reassured me we were going to co-teach this class, had promptly disappeared and came in when we were trying to get the six students into pairs according to their adjectives and opposites. They didn’t know the meaning and asked her for assistance, and obviously flustered that she didn’t know the meaning either and couldn’t translate them into Russian, she asked me to give them clues or the meaning. Needless to say, this is going to be another hard row to hoe. There was a faculty meeting after this class, but the dean dispensed with Nigora’s attendance so she could accompany me to buy the heater and whiteboard. She negotiated with the taxi driver and after several stops, we were able to get both items and had to carry the whiteboard on top of the car, two students and I holding on to the corners through the windows in the freezing weather.

I invited Nigora and the two students to have lunch with me, but they all declined. The whiteboard seller didn’t have the legs for it available at the time of purchase and the students promised to go back and get them and have them installed for me the following day. I still felt uncomfortable leaving such valuable property in that classroom with the flimsy lock I paid for. The students said they could raise the money among their classmates and have another one installed. They refused to have me pay for it.

When I stepped into the café for my usual bowl of soup, the cab driver, who had been handsomely paid for having to wait around, was having tea and invited to me join his table. He must be doing well financially as he has a son studying English in Philadelphia who plans to become an economist.

Elbek came for his class and we played “Concentration”. He’s making fast progress and is able now to ask me lots of questions. I asked him to bring me a few jugs of water from his apartment as I’m running very low. Caroline came by to bring yet more things and we caught on her travels and the latest news on the people of Dushanbe. She still wants to house sit for Marydean so she can get more money out of her living allowance. I feel very awkward about calling Marydean now to let her know Caroline wants to take my place. Me and my big mouth!

I called the dean at the PedInst and let him know that after reviewing the new schedule, I didn't feel comfortable teaching three classes, 90 minutes each, back to back as that would have me teaching for four and half hours without a break. I turned down the first class, beginning at 8:00am, and told him to expect me at 9:30 the following morning. He seemed peeved, but agreed nonetheless.

February 8, 2012

Received an email from Tahmina at the embassy indicating she had spoken to the dean at the PedInst and he had told her I had agreed to teach the new group of students and thus there was no need for a meeting and that I was to report for classes tomorrow. I countered by asking if she had paid attention to my list of concerns, but she ignored my reply. When I got the embassy to talk to her, she’d just left to take Ruth apartment hunting. I spoke to Sandy instead and she hadn’t paid attention either to the fact that I was being asked to teach interpreters and not teachers. She promised to look into it and get back to me. I cashed a check to take money to Nepal and drop off two pieces of mail. No new magazines in the library, but found two books worth stealing.

Met with the Caritas group and the driver took us to the Chinese restaurant inside the Tajikistan Hotel. We found a separate room, but not far enough to avoid the fast tempo music being played in the lobby area. The room had a flat screen TV on and I begged to have it turned off. Takhmina ordered from an extensive menu with a large photo of every dish to entice the diners. Suffice it to say that while the meal was tasty compared to Tajik cooking, none of the dishes bore the slightest resemblance to the dishes I have eaten all over the United States down to the fried rice without green onions or scrambled eggs, or any soy sauce for that matter. We were offered flat bread with our meal, something that seemed just incongruous. I was glad to see that the driver was invited to dine with us.

They dropped me off at the post office and I was able to finalize the business card I want to have printed before departing for Nepal. They had printed the name of institute in lower caps and my email to have it corrected had had no effect. They should be ready tomorrow at ten. I then proceeded to the Indian embassy and retrieved my passport.

I called Ruth and found out she had been moved, temporarily, to a guest house that was cheaper than the hotel and had visited a couple of apartments, none to her liking. She was waiting for Corrie, who had a couple of leads on other flats, and hoped to be out by the weekend. We agreed to meet for lunch on Saturday after the American Corner presentation. Ruth stated she had been told not to come to her school as classes had been cancelled due to the heavy snow. I then remembered to call Nigora to see if the situation was the same at the PedInst and was told tomorrow, the 9^th, was the first day of classes for the fourth year students and she was expecting me to show up. I agreed to do so, but was firm in telling her I’d just come in to observe as I don’t have any idea where the students are at this point. Nigora has offered to accompany me to get the whiteboard/space heater afterwards.

My living room felt icy and no amount of clothing provided any warmth. I retreated to the bedroom and finished reading “The $64.00 Tomato” laughing all the way. Time to get started on the book on civility that Marydean has loaned me. 

February 7, 2012

Another day with no running water. I puttered around all day with little direction and even less motivation to get to the tasks I’m supposed to be working on. Despite having the wall unit on all day to heat up the living room and the space heater to boot, I was still cold. I got under one of the korpachas (thick, long cushions) and took a nap.

Corrie called to inquire if I had been in touch with Ruth after she left her hotel. I hadn’t and felt bad about not calling to find out where the embassy had taken her. Caroline emailed to confirm she’d be back early on Thursday morning and wanted to move more of her personal belongings to my apartment on the same day.

Elbek came for his class and confirmed his apartment had running water and offered to bring me some containers until the pipes defrost. Takhmina, from Caritas, called to invite me to lunch with the group on Wednesday. My landlady showed up to collect the rent, not much to talk about with our language barrier in the middle. I showed her the fact that no water was coming out of the tap and she called Jamshed only to be told I needed to keep the faucets open 24/7 so water would start to come in as the pipes defrosted.

I almost finished reading “The $64 Tomato” by Michael Alexander about extreme gardening by a yuppie guy intent on producing the best organic produce possible in Upstate New York. It’s a hilarious account of his travails and a wake-up call to those like me who’d like to garden without all the inconveniences that come with the territory.

February 6, 2012

“Ignorance is bliss” is the apt way to describe the fact that having no access to the Internet; I had no idea that the temperature was a chilling zero degree outside when I made my way to the teachers’ training center. I did know that it was in the single digits and added another sweater to my long-sleeve thermal t-shirt and turtleneck sweater ensemble. Most of the teachers showed up and we proceeded to set up in pairs by searching for adjectives and their opposites. The younger teachers didn’t know the meaning of their adjectives and walked around for almost ten minutes until I gave up and gave them the answer. The warm up called for them to describe their favorite inanimate object, they seemed paralyzed. Even when giving them a synonym, lifeless, they still could not come up with an object. When I did the bingo game by calling the opposite of the adjectives in the list, no one called “bingo” until it was almost time for the blackout portion of the game.

Some of the teacher had brought in sambusas, piroshkies and flat bread to consume during the break and I was given a bag to take home and another for Caroline. I then reviewed the different categories of pronouns by trying to elicit a definition for subject, object, possessive adjectives, possessive pronouns and reflexive ones, but not one of them could come up with a single definition, only examples. Sanifa stated that their Russian textbooks didn’t include definitions for these terms and when it did, it’d be in Russian. I provided all the definitions and gave them time to copy them on their notebooks before proceeding to give them a letter containing lots of mistakes in the use of pronouns. There were a total of 30 mistakes, but some of the pairs gave up as soon as they’ve found as little as five of them.

I went back to my flat to unload the bags with food before heading to Caritas and I was delighted to see that the Internet service had been restored. After the conversation class, Takhmina offered to give me a ride home. She’s going to bring me a local Tajik dress on Wednesday to see if it fits so I can wear it to the conference presentation in Nepal. We also talked about having a potluck luncheon at my place for all of them. I get the feeling they feel they ought to recompense me in some way for providing these classes free of charge, but they are such a thoughtful, delightful group that I don’t mind at all. I’m, in fact, learning about their culture as much as they might be learning about mine.

Ruth called to say the embassy was demanding she gives up the hotel room, where she’s paying $80.00 a day, and will be moving her to another place tomorrow. She’s extremely dissatisfied with the way the embassy personnel has dealt with her since she came as they have made no attempt to help her find housing, her own cell phone or ways to get around. I commented on the fact neither Sandy nor Tahmina has contacted me further to set up an appointment to meet with the dean, and only today did I get an email from my RELO asking about the outcome of that meeting. I have in fact decided that I won’t be reporting to the institute until after I return from Nepal as the weather and the amount of snow out there is not for the fainthearted.

Corrie called inquiring as to whether I had gotten any word on renewing my post and I said no. She had been to the Georgetown website and seen that they had posted six new positions for Tajikistan including both of our jobs. She doesn’t have any water either and only hopes temperatures will go up enough to defrost the pipes later on this week. Caroline couldn’t have chosen a better week to be out of Dushanbe.

February 5, 2012

It felt simply weird to get up in the morning and not be able to log on to the Internet to catch up on my email, read the news online and see what the weather would be like. It’s hard to believe how dependent I’ve become on this medium to provide me with sources of information and read the latest bits of gossip on the doings of family members and friends. In its absence, I knew I had no excuse but to buckle down and work on putting the final touches on my presentation for the conference in Nepal which is merely a week away. I feel like beating myself in the head for choosing such an obscure topic for my talk, “Intertextuality”, while both Corrie and Caroline are rehashing something they had already presented someplace else

I made quite a bit of progress on it and then tidied up the apartment as my landlady had called the day before to indicate she’d be stopping by to collect the rent. There was no running, again, as the pipes must have frozen overnight. The landlady never showed up most likely because there was no way her driver could bring her directly to my front door given the amount of snow accumulated around the building. She didn’t even call to cancel the appointment.

I called Marydean, the American woman who’s been in Dushanbe for 11 years, to inquire about her need for someone to house sit. She’ll be gone for a week, a trip to Paris nonetheless, and is asking me to look after her two cats. She has a spare bedroom, tons of books and a stocked refrigerator for me. I didn’t mention that Caroline was interested in doing it since she might not want to stay for just an additional week. I said it should be fine and agreed to meet with her upon my return from Nepal. I started to read the book she had loaned me “Choosing Civility: The 25 Rules to Considerate Conduct” by P. M. Forni.

There was a documentary on the last czar of Russia, Alexander II, and the extermination of his entire family in 1918 by Stalin’s orders. The cruelty and senselessness of the whole affair left me with a feeling of revulsion toward the power-hungry individuals who cannot stand the slightest shadow on their ascent to the top.

February 4, 2012

When I stepped outside my building, I saw the highest accumulation of snow so far after two days non-stop snowing. At least it was fresh and fluffy and posed no trouble to walk on it as I made my way to the trash bin to dispose of my malodorous trash. It was hard though to make it all the way to the American Corner and I only made it there with five minutes to spare. Corrie then asked me to go the Paikar supermarket nearby to get plastic cups and spoons as her supermarket didn’t have any.

Alleyway leading to my apartment building

My apartment building at the bottom of the alleyway.

Corrie’s topic was speaking activities and she had lined up the teachers as pairs facing each other in three rows even as more teachers showed up. I helped out by providing chairs, informing newcomers of what she was doing and passing out slips of papers for the corresponding activities. She included such activities as conducting an interview, ranking personal qualities, participating in a job interview and a board game. Although Corrie hasn’t seemed amenable to sharing teaching materials, I asked her anyway to share her resources so I could them at the teachers’ training center. To my face at least, she agreed to do so. Nancy and David were waiting for us when we were finished as I had invited them to join us for lunch thereafter.

I was unpleasantly surprised to be buffeted by strong winds as we made our way to the Prague Restaurant, only about two blocks away, under the relentless snow. Corrie, who wasn’t wearing a hat or gloves, was soon exhibiting a red nose and fingers. The restaurant was completely empty, nothing new there, but was tastefully appointed with exquisite hardwood furniture and posters from Prague, a city Nancy had visited in the past. Corrie was able to read the menu and I ordered lamb along with French fries. It must have taken at least 1.5 hours for us to get our meals and David’s moussaka was just a pile of ground beef with some slices of tomatoes covered with grated cheese. For once, my dish was quite tasty, although not spicy as I had ordered it, and the fries relatively warm and somewhat crispy.

                            Nancy, David and Corrie at the Prague Restaurant

Nancy regaled us with her tales about being in the Peace Corps in two different countries and bagging her husband, David, in one of them. While David embodies taciturnity to an extreme, Nancy had no qualms in telling us she had joined the organization so she could go to bed with men, young or old. “I was a slut then”, she commented. David didn’t even look at her.

Playground

                                 
                                                        Playground

Corrie accompanied me to the printing place inside the post office where they are working on creating a business card for me, and which came in with no capital letters for institute, but they were closed on this Saturday. Next, it was Megaphon to pay for my Internet service and Corrie inquired as to whether they still had the special offer where I could buy a new modem and get a month free. The same attentive woman who usually waits on me confirmed this fact and requested my passport, which is still at the Indian embassy, and in its absence, accepted Corrie’s.

I stopped at the supermarket to buy provisions for the weekend and treated myself to a piece of smoked salmon. There were no fresh vegetables except for green, yellow and red peppers sold as a trio. I only bought what I thought I could eat in a week since I’ll be leaving next Sunday for Nepal.

When I inserted the new modem in the computer, it told me it didn’t have any money in that account. After much fiddling with it and removing the old program, shutting down and restarting the computer, I gave up. I called Corrie who tried calling the company, but it was close to 5:00pm and had no luck. It occurred to me to call Elbek so he could read the message in Russian I kept getting and he came in thinking we were going to have a regular class. He felt it was prudent to call on his uncle, who works for the competition, to come and take a look. Akram got on the telephone and was able to access the call center where after much waiting informed him something was wrong with the modem and the technical department would need to intervene, but not until Monday. I really felt deprived and somewhat at a loss when not able to go online.

I did finish reading “Kitchen Confidential”, wishing though for it to go on even longer. I relished every page of it and know it deserves a re-reading to do it justice.