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.