March 31, 2012

Although I took the cough syrup that Ryan prescribed, it did nothing to help sleep soundly. If it was intended to keep me coughing up the crud in my lungs, it succeeded as I got little sleep throughout the night. Instead of just staying in bed tossing and turning, I got up early and made sure I had packed all my materials for the last teacher training session at Qurgonteppa and met the driver at 7:50. Corrie arrived a few minutes later carrying a baking pan with the brownies she had agreed to bake for the teachers. The day was hazy and beginning to cloud as rain is forecast for Sunday, but even then we could see signs of spring everywhere such tiny buds at the end of branches, the palest of green shoots coming up the ground and more and more cherry trees beginning to blossom.

We were surprised to find that the American Corner had electricity this time and that the embassy supervisor had requested better lighting in the place thus forcing Toj to buy super bright CFL bulbs. It was my turn to go first and I was bit apprehensive about introducing dictogloss, or grammar dictation, to those teachers knowing full well that they were very weak. On the other hand, I wanted to experiment with the subject matter and see what they had to say about it. As expected, they concluded that the activity was very difficult as they had never done any type of dictation, but I encouraged them to find suitable materials within their own textbooks to implement the dictation and to get their students used to it.

A couple of the university students had invited us to their house for lunch, and I thought the entire class was to come along. Instead, only Corrie, Latofat, Amin, with whom I had to plead to come, and I were whisked in the homeowner’s vehicle to a house just about a block away. It was the most sumptuous house I have seen so far in Tajikistan. There was a carport for the vehicle, an extensive kitchen garden followed by rooms dedicated to the kitchen and the bathroom separate from the house itself. When Amin provided this information, I just told him how much I’d dread having to leave my room in the middle of the night to walk outside and use the toilet. He said people prefer here prefer to have those two rooms away from the main house.

We were taken to an ample room painted in a relaxing shade of blue with an elaborate window treatment and fanciful cushions. Even the teapot and cups were a shade of gold as was the biggest tea cozy I’ve ever seen. Everything was lavish to an excess and Corrie asked the owner what he did for a living, and he said he happens to own several gas stations in town. He has four children and the oldest one is getting ready to travel to the States to study engineering at a university in Chicago. The wife and two daughters made themselves scarce and only came in when we were about to leave. The oldest daughter is already married, why bother with educating her, and has a baby while the youngest is only 12.  I had skipped breakfast in anticipation of this meal and ate a little bit of everything: fresh almonds, green raisins, salami slices, tomatoes and cucumber slices, meatball soup(one I had never had before), a Russian salad with globs and globs of mayonnaise, flat bread, plenty of tea and juice, and of course, the piece de resistance, plov.

It was back to the American Corner where Corrie cut the brownies into small slices and enticed everyone to have a piece. She then did her presentation on speech acts and asking for advice in particular. It went really well and I asked her to let me borrow the materials to use them for the teacher training center on Monday. All attendees wanted to have their photos taken with us and Toj played Tajik music from his computer, so we cut the rug for a few minutes even though only some of the male students felt free enough to take part in the fun.

Toj and Amin accompanied us to the only sight in Qurgonteppa, “The Hill” as it’s known, and took tons of photos while we toured the small museum inside which chronicled the region’s past when it used to be part of the Persian Empire. We went up the stairs where a 360 degree view of the city could be had, but it was too cloudy by then to do so. The driver was courteous enough to stop on the way out so we could get cold water as the food had been somewhat salty and our throats were parched. He signed the receipts I had printed for both Corrie and I and offered his services in case we ever needed to go back to Qurgonteppa. For me, that’s unlikely and the city is slated to get their own ELF next year, so I don’t see Corrie having a need to go back either.

Corrie is moving out of her flat and in with a roommate. She extended an invitation to go see her new place, but I was too tired already. I had a small bowl of lentil soup and read for a while.

March 30, 2012

Another sleepless night spent coughing and expectorating non-stop. I was glad to see daylight and got up early to organize my materials for the teachers’ class. I peered into the limbs of the tree outside my kitchen eager to see some sign of growth and could tell that something like little tuffs of hair had appeared at the tip of most branches. I had the students play “Concentration” and the dean came in when the students were really excited and shouting avidly among themselves. He had some information to deliver to some of them and mercifully left very quickly. As a follow-up task, I had them complete the “Best of Everything” worksheet to continue to practice the irregular verbs in the simple past and past participle.

                                  Spring has sprung - The first signs of cherry blossoms

The weather was fabulous and I was so exhilarated to be out of the institute by 11:00am that I felt like skipping my way back to my apartment where I had a light lunch and put the finishing touches on my presentation for Saturday. I had an appointment to meet with Tahmina, Ruth and Corrie at 2:30pm and left my flat earlier to drop my shoes at the cobbler to fix the heels again. As usual, I was too early for my pick up time and went into Thim, the supermarket that caters to ex-pats, to buy Nutella and tomato paste. I wanted to buy a good gel for my hair now that I can leave it wet, but none of the labels had any English words in them and the clerk spoke no English either.

The embassy driver took us to Multikids, a dreadful, dark, and cold warren of offices with no natural light except in Manzura’s office, the director of the program, who happened to be absent due to a family emergency. Evidently, no one thought that the meeting should have been cancelled in spite of the fact that her assistant could not find the information we needed to discuss the ETM coming up in April. I reminded Tahmina that Sandy had agreed to get me out of teaching at the PedInst for the three days the ETM would last and she replied she knew nothing about that and was only asking us to help out as our schedule allowed. I insisted that my conversation with Sandy had been to the effect that I’d be present all three days at the seminar and for her to look into it. It’s simply inconceivable that the seminar is going to run itself since Corrie and Ruth can only be present one day each.

Aziza promised to send us the information needed via email and we promptly left the building with Corrie and I getting into a mini-van to head back to my flat. I picked the medication Ryan had recommended at the pharmacy and bought some flat bread. We had some of my curried lentil soup while discussing the remaining seminars we should carry out before the end of our contract. Corrie plans to travel to China in mid-May. We agreed to do a seminar at the end of April, one in May and a final one in the Pamir region in mid-June to insure good weather. I was very pleased to get this task done as I can now focus on the remaining weekends here to make the most of it in terms of visiting places or having lunch or dinners with acquaintances.

I watched the movie, “Raising Arizona”, one I had borrowed from Tojiddin in Qurgonteppa and needed to return. I’m not quite sure I got it.  

March 29, 2012

I got a text message from Nigina informing me I had left my JumpDrive and hand-held fan at the copy center, so I made my way there first under cloudy skies and then a few sprinkles. The interpreter students played a game trying to match occupations and their respective descriptions. I brought in some chocolates and gave everybody a piece while they worked on a worksheet about summarizing the best of everything that had happened to them. Unfortunately, these are students who have not held a job, traveled outside the country, owned a car, or even lived in other places. As a result, their answers were very similar and thus the activity was a bit monotonous.

As I was walking to the soup place, a new student approached me with the sentence I’ve begun to dread: “Can you help me?” She wanted to know if I could conduct conversation classes with her and I said no, that I had too many commitments already. She countered by saying that Beth, the previous ELF, had held a weekly conversation club for all students. I told her the dean had never suggested that I employ my time in that manner and it was too late now to try and start it.

After my soup, I went to Caritas and we had the same activities as the morning class. Takhmina and Khurshed were going somewhere in the city and offered to drop me off at my place.

Elbek came for his class and in the middle of it, Nilufar came with a sambusas and some bread to inform me that she had found a job as a cook at the Atlas Hotel and had been practicing her English in earnest. On top of that, many of the tourists at the hotel are from Spain and she’s been picking up a few words of Spanish. I was really proud to see Elbek serve as an interpreter between us as I can see how much his fluency has improved. Nilufar promised to show me how to make the apple cake I have eaten at her house next week.

Ryan came by to check on my constant cough and diagnosed me with a run-of-the-mill allergy case. He’s going to prescribe a bottle of Guaifenesin to be prepared by the pharmacist at his apartment complex so the phlegm can be broken up and discharged. 

March 28, 2012

I couldn’t ask for better weather: cool, sunny and breezy. I ran into Zoir in the hallway of the PedInst, and being unable to avoid me, he said hello and practically fled upstairs where he now has his “office”. The poor sap probably thinks I’m going to confront him at some point about his failed promise to take me to this village for the Navruz holiday. I tried to get the interpreter group to get into pairs by identifying cards with the names of famous characters from literature, TV and film, but only my star student from Turkmenistan was able to identify “Adam and Eve” as a famous pair. For the rest of them, the game was a bust. I brought one an ad from the “What’s on in Dushanbe” newsletter about a job opening for an interpreter/translator and asked them to respond to it by writing a cover letter addressing the requirements for the position. I could have asked them to write a thesis on Einstein’s theory of relativity for all the enthusiasm they showed for the task. One student flat out refused to do it confirming they have never had to do any writing in English in any other classes and were simply ill prepared to do so now.

When I was finished, I walked to the copy place asking young women along the way if I could take their pictures in their glittering dresses and most of them complied. Nigina came down to help me explain to the cute guy making the copies that I wanted the PowerPoint presentation printed four slides to a page. It didn’t turn out exactly as I had pictured it, but I can live with it. When done, I walked to the little place next door to have plov for lunch and found all six tables full of men only who looked at me as if saying: “What in the heck are you doing here, woman?” I waited for the young owner to come out of the kitchen and asked him if there were tables anywhere else. He motioned for me to follow him and I was taken to a patio where one table stood behind a car wash business. The plov was being cooked over a wood fire and the old guy serving it gave me a huge portion of it along with the salad and flat bread. I also ordered lemon tea to linger at the table and enjoy the sunshine. It was hard to believe that last week Tuesday I had stayed home as my pipes were frozen and the ground covered with tons of snow.

                                                       Dining al fresco

I repeated the “Famous Pairs” activity with the teachers and had just about the same result. They didn’t even know who Cleopatra was. I mentioned to them that these characters frequently appear as points of reference in all kinds of texts and their students should be somewhat familiar with who they are and why they became famous. We then moved on to a game of Taboo where many of them broke the rules by mentioning the words they were not supposed to say while describing a particular occupation. Playing “Odd one Out” was extremely complex as most of them could not identify all the words in each category and as a result, couldn’t determine if there was a difference among them. The topic on the conversation booklet was shopping and they affirmed they went to the same place, Khurbon Market, as that’s where the best prices and variety could be found. They all avoid the chic shops and boutiques on Rudaki Avenue as their prices are beyond their means. I noticed that no one had bothered to complete the matching exercises or the question and answer section. I’ll make it a point next week to show them how it’s done.

I went home to change into more comfortable clothes as I was meeting Ruth at the Aqua Bar as she wanted to introduce Corrie and I to a teacher from Florida who’s been working here for a while. I got there first and practically recoiled from the door as the place reeked of cigarette smoke. The young waitress approached me and I told her I was waiting for a group of people, none of whom were there just yet. Corrie arrived, famished as she hadn’t eaten all day, she said, and then Ruth. I wanted to change our venue, but Ruth was hungry and wanted to eat at a familiar place. When Michelle, the one from Florida, arrived, she vouched for the place and asked me to please try sitting near the door so the smoke wouldn’t bother me as much. I wasn’t even hungry, having had such a heavy lunch a few hours earlier, but another teacher, who joined us a few minute later, recommended the pumpkin and apple soup for just ten somoni and I took her advice. The soup in question was merely baby food: boiled pumpkin that had been placed in a blender and then transferred to a bowl. No apple, no salt, no bouillon, no flavor. The woman was aghast that I was not enjoying the soup, and I asked her to please taste it to see if I was right or not. She did and concurred it wasn’t the same thing she had had in the past.

I learned that Michelle was an ELF in Khujand back in 2006-2007 and she’d like to reapply to see if she could get the new post in Khorog. She wanted to hear about our experiences, but I didn’t want to talk about mine in public. I gave her my business card and asked to call me for coffee sometime. Both of them work for the international school where the children of diplomats and NGO workers send their kids. I left early as I was simply pooped and still needed to edit a document for Takhmina.

Ryan called to invite me to dinner at his house, but I had just eaten the leftover macaroni and cheese. Apparently, he had received fresh fish from his landlord again, but instead of just giving away the surplus, we needed to join him at his table. I told him my cough hadn’t gone away yet and I was beginning to be concerned. He promised to stop by tomorrow after work to take a look.

March 27, 2012

More beautiful weather was on the way and I felt brave enough to shuck off my coat and only wear my black sweater. I remembered to pack the gifts for Khurshed and the driver along with the teaching materials needed for the day. It seemed like the perfect day to play hooky. I decided to have the interpreter group practice writing a resume and a cover letter given the fact that they’ll be graduating soon, something Ruth is also having her students do. They had never heard of a cover letter and only had the faintest idea as to what the resume should include. I listed at least ten items on the board in the order they should be included, but that was of no help for some of them who couldn’t even write their home address. The cover letter was a total fiasco as they had no idea even how to start one. I’m providing a sample of each tomorrow hoping they can at least ape them. We then played a round of Taboo to relax them a bit.

Erech, the student arranging the transportation and lodging for the trip to Khulob, came by and I asked him to have his friend come by so I could take a look at the vehicle and driver that are going to take us there next month. He looked perplexed, but I told him I needed to make sure the car was in good condition and the driver safe. He promised to bring him along tomorrow.

The soup place was back in business and I had my usual bowl of soup while trying to read one of the books Stephanie sent me. When I got to Caritas, only Takhmina was present, but she informed me everybody else was on his/her way. I showed her the presents I had selected for the guys and she approved of them. When the gang was back together, we played several rounds of Taboo and also a game of idioms for which I had to provide most of the answers as they were woefully inadequate in this area. Khurshed and the driver indicated they liked their presents, and we discussed having our potluck lunch very soon.

If it weren’t because I was still carrying a heavy bag plus my school bag, I’d have walked back to the house as the day was just perfect: not too cool or warm, a soft breeze floating around and the bluest skies possible. I finally got some tuna fish at the supermarket to add it to the macaroni and cheese package Nancy had given me weeks ago.

March 26, 2012

I was up early unable to sleep. As soon as the sun came up, I could see the mountains thrusting into the air and knew a perfect day should be ahead. The teacher resource center was practically empty and less than half of the teachers were present when I got there. We waited for little while longer, but it seemed as if many of them had decided to take another day off. I started by having them talk to their partner about what they had done for Navruz and then report to the group. Apparently, quite a few of them stayed home cooking and then sharing the food with neighbors and relatives. It appears as if yesterday there was a huge gathering at the hippodrome where many students sang and dance in spite of the rain. This must have been the event for which Oigul had been rehearsing, but I never knew exactly when it was supposed to take place. We did a vocabulary activity where the teachers needed to classify everyday objects, based on their origin, into the animal, vegetable or mineral category. Dictionaries came out flying and even then, many of the words eluded them.

                                    One of the teachers brought her two girls to class today.

Made my obligatory stop at F1 and then got in taxi to go to the PedInst. The driver turned right and I almost panicked thinking he was going into who knew what direction, but he signaled that Rudaki Avenue was closed once again to allow dignitaries who had visited for the celebration to have a clear road to the airport. Ran into a student as I approached the PedInst and she asked what I had done for Navruz. I was blunt and told her I had stayed home since no one had extended any invitations. Her response: Oh, sorry, but can you get me a letter of reference I can present to this university? I told her I didn’t know her track record and couldn’t in good faith issue one. She then explained her professor was willing to sign one if she could get someone to write it for him. I refused to participate in that charade and told her to look for samples online if she wished to.

I found very few students outside and none in my classroom. One student came in to tell me that the students had performed the day before at the hippodrome and had been given the day off to recuperate. It’d have been nice if someone had called me to tell me not to come in. I stopped by the dean’s office to let him know I’d be going across the street for my soup and would return for our teacher training session. He made the requisite question about Navruz and I gave him the same answer I gave the student and he got so flustered he didn’t know what to do with himself. He claimed not to have known that the students got the day off. Whatever.

My soup place was closed for service while the employees seemed to be repainting and doing some deep cleaning. I walked to the other cafeteria and found several of the male teachers eating there and since most tables were full, I asked to sit next to one of them who hardly speaks any English at all. He couldn’t even describe what he was having and took leave as soon as he finished his meal. Pariso, Matluva and Dilho came in and sat at my table and spoke mostly in Russian among themselves. Pariso rehashed her statement that although she needed the certificate of attendance for my sessions, it was imperative that she worked so she could buy herself some clothes. I said nothing. None of them inquired as to what I might have done for Navruz.

When I was preparing for the teachers’ session, a young student came in to ask me if I was willing to give him private lessons, for which of course, he was willing to pay. I told him I was practically teaching six days a week and needed my evenings and Sundays to recuperate from the exhaustion. He’s a third year student and thus unable to understand spoken English. He reiterated his desire to have classes with me on Sundays, of all days. I put my tape recorder in motion and only answered “American Corner” to every beseeching comment he made. The student with the need for not one now, but two letters of reference came in once again to tell me she was trying to print some sample letters from the Internet and wanted to know if I could make changes to them because she was supposed to fax then to the university in question before 4:00pm. She couldn’t understand that I knew nothing about her trajectory as a student and was in no position to make comments to that effect. She promised to return with the actual letters before my session was over.

The teachers, only twelve had shown up, seemed to enjoy talking about food and I found out the most expensive dish anyone had ever ordered was plov for 35 somoni or $7.30. No one had any desire to travel to some distant land to have something that might not be available here. They couldn’t entertain the idea that some foreigners might not be completely enamored with their cuisine and couldn’t name a dish that these people might dislike. Talk about provincialism.

Fortunately for me, the student with the letters didn’t show up before I left, but one of the male teachers has promised to cook “fried meat” for me as I had mentioned I had no idea what it might look or taste like. I hope I’m not in for some disgusting dish.

March 25, 2012

I got full night’s sleep and felt much better this morning. After my coffee, I reheated the rice pudding I cooked yesterday and took some down to my neighbor Maryam whom I hadn’t seen in almost two weeks. She was alone with the baby and thus a conversation between us was impossible. I signaled to her that I wanted to help her husband whenever he started to plant his spring garden. It was raining heavily by then and she indicated with a shrug that who knew when planting time would come this year.

I went back to my place to marinate the beef in anticipation of cooking dinner later on in the afternoon. Ruth called to say she had met another American teacher from Florida working at one of the private schools here and wanted to introduce Corrie and me to her on Wednesday at the Aqua Bar. I finally spoke to Yoomie who told me she had wanted to borrow my coffee grinder to use some of the coffee beans Hillary had brought from Dubai. I sent a message to Marydean inviting her dinner at my place sometime in the future.

I prepared all my materials for the three classes I’ll have tomorrow and then took a nap.

I learned today that the average Tajik makes $19.00 a month or 93.00 somoni. And to think that I just spent 69.00 only on the purchase of two kilos of beef. The sun came out in the late afternoon and lots of children could be seen playing in front of my building. All in all, a very quiet Sunday.

March 24, 2012

I was up at four in the morning having slept my required seven hours. The driver called at 7:10 to indicate he was already in Dushanbe although we had agreed pick up time was 8:00. I had managed to make rice pudding for breakfast and it turned out all right. Nothing to write home about. I joined the driver at ten to eight and then waited for Corrie. The day was overcast and rain appeared imminent. During the drive, we noticed a long line of people going up a hill all dressed up and carrying the sprouted wheat we had seen everywhere in the city. The driver didn’t know if there was a special celebration going on there or not.

Teachers were waiting outside of the American Corner in Qurgonteppa as there was no electricity again and the building was very cold and dark. Corrie didn’t need the computer or LCD projector for her session on speaking activities, the same one she had done in the city and which had been quite successful. Here, in contrast, the teachers have a very low level of fluency and steps have to be explained in more than one way for them to grasp what to do. I helped out the best I could, but felt as if I were still with my students at the PedInst instead of surrounded by experienced teachers.

Amin, who had been entrusted with finding a restaurant nearby where we could treat Toj to lunch, indicated there was nothing in the area and we needed to get into a taxi to find a decent place to eat. His favorite place happened to be closed because of the holiday and we had to retrace our steps to go to one Corrie had spotted along the road. This one establishment had tapchons (wide outdoor cushions) under a covered area and several parties, all male, were eating there. Amin refused to comply with my wish to eat there indicating it would call too much attention to our group. Plov was being cooked in the open air and we all decided to order that for the sake of expediency. There was only one female server and she looked harried. We had the usual service of plov, salad, flat bread and tea, but in spite of our numerous protests, Amin paid for everyone. The weather was nice enough for us to walk back to the American Corner.

                                         Tajik flag leading up the steps to the photo of the President

                                                 Plov being cooked outdoors

                                         Happy Navruz sign at the Qurgonteppa hill

The afternoon session, my presentation on writing poetry in the classroom, was a struggle as many of these teachers barely speak English. When I asked them to write an acrostic and provided them with a list of adjectives that describe personality, and which are clearly categorized as “positive” or “negative” attributes, some of the teachers chose words such as “nasty” and “unreliable” apparently unaware of the negative connotations such words carry. It was downhill from there on as even Amin, the fluent of the all the teachers there, was not interested in writing any form of poetry whatsoever and the others didn’t understand the difference between a syllable and a word. I was relieved to see 3:00 o’clock approach. We reminded them of our commitment to returning next Saturday for the last session, and were told the university students in the groups would like to have us at their house for lunch on Saturday.

The driver was downstairs waiting for us and only stopped once to allow us to buy pure pomegranate juice from a roadside stand. Corrie and I had no choice but to take turns swigging from the bottle as we were both parched. I told her in fact that what I really, really wanted was a very cold Heineken beer. Corrie told me she plans on traveling to China in early May and wants to have a clear idea as to the commitments we still have with the embassy. We’re going to meet next Friday, after the meeting at Multikid to finalize the next ETM session, at my place to outline what’s pending. I still don’t have much of a desire to travel outside the country and would rather save my money to spend it in Europe where I can be assured of traveling in comfort, having access to good food and excellent coffee.

When we got to the center of Dushanbe, we found Rudaki Avenue closed and the east-west avenues clogged with impatient drivers while the policemen just looked on. Our taxi started to overheat and steam could be seen coming from under the hood. The poor driver didn’t know what to do as he couldn’t move at all. At that point, one of the policemen jumped into the middle of the street and got traffic moving so our driver got out of his car and tried to push across the street. This guy is no spring chicken and he wasn’t making much progress until two young guys spotted him and came to help out. I told Corrie we should continue on foot as the driver would need to let the radiator cool down before doing anything else. The poor guy insisted on taking us to the agreed upon location for fear that we’d not hire him last week for the last trip. The hood was open and I could see he had a lot things twisted and knotted here and there and evidently had neglected to replace certain old parts to insure the proper functioning of the car. I hope he can use some of the money we’re paying him to take care of it.

Corrie got on a mini-van and I walked home where I had a piece of flat bread, a chunk of cheese and some juice before heading to my bedroom determined to finish that riveting book on cancer.

March 23, 2012

I was granted the perfect day to go out there and take care of all my errands. At the first stop, I paid my electric bill while trying to avoid the huge puddles of water gathering on the sidewalks and even in the streets with potholes galore. The gurgling sounds of snow being melted followed me everywhere. I then walked to the Sarbarh Bazaar and was able to find two different shaving kits, both made in Russia, to give to Khurshed and the driver who so gracefully repaired the electrical problem in my living room. Continued on to the Ziloni Bazaar where I purchased way too many things: beef with short ribs still attached, carrots, potatoes, onions, cilantro, red beans and lentils, salami and cheese along with some lemons. The bag became unbearable to carry it in my hand as the handles were cutting into my fingers. Sweating buckets, I managed to make it home where I took a rest before heading out again to pick up the lamination materials left there the day before only to find some self-righteous guy there who tried to lecture me about not being able to speak Russian. I picked my materials and the receipt and left in a huff. Took the trolley to the copy center and noticed many families making their way to the botanical gardens where employees were hell bent on getting rid of the snow that still cluttered the walkways.

The copy center was closed, so I retraced my steps to the PedInst intending on having lunch at the usual soup place and then hopping on a mini-van to go to the embassy. But there was no soup to be had as the place was also closed. I tried one more place, the Russian cafeteria around the corner, but with the same results. I got on the mini-van hoping to find something to eat the cafeteria at the embassy, which is ran by a guy from India, but the food still has no flavor. We went past the national stadium and found huge crowds of people milling around apparently trying to get in while police circle around it. I found a stand where a woman was selling small sambusas and decided to have two of them and perhaps a cup of coffee at the embassy. As I was approaching the building, I realized I had switched to my purse for the weekend and my badge had been left in my school bag. I had to go through screeners and wait for Tahmina to send someone to get me before I could go inside.

I told Tahmina I wanted to copy the handout for the teachers attending the workshop this Saturday and she replied their printer was out of service. Jennifer, the most helpful person to work at that place, informed me that if I could come up with the originals, she’d run copies for me upstairs. Tahmina told me, for the first time, that I wasn’t allowed to plug my JumpDrive into any computer at the embassy although I had done exactly that almost every time I had visited the place. Jennifer countered by saying she’d not inquire as to where I got my copies if I were able to get them. I went to see Vali and cash a check for my rent and then on to the mail room to send Stephanie a couple of letters and my expense report as well. I popped into an office, used my JumpDrive and copied the documents needed so Jennifer could make the required copies. While she did so, I went to the cafeteria and had a really gross cup of burnout coffee with cold milk.

I retrieve the handouts and got in a #8 mini-van. When the driver inquired as to my final destination and I told him, he returned my fare and told me to find another one as he was only going to the center of town. The next mini-van driver couldn’t understand my pronunciation of my destination until the passenger next to him clarified it. He motioned for me to get in while two young women snickered next to me as if I were an idiot and couldn’t understand they were talking about me. When this driver got to the Tsum Department Store, he also told me he wasn’t going my way and returned half of the fare. I was livid as at this point, I was pretty tired and the thought of having to walk another 4-5 blocks didn’t appeal to me. At least, the weather had been pleasant enough that I was wearing my Teva sandals and my feet were not protesting.

                            Children bundling the fallen branches to use or sale, not sure.

                              Branches from this tree fell down under the weight of the snow.

I decided to make one last sacrifice and stopped at the Poitak Supermarket on my way home to buy the few items I still needed, eggs, juice, and milk, to insure that come Sunday, I’d have no need to step outside my flat. Yoomie had called while I was bound for the embassy to say she needed to come by my place. I texted her letting her know I was now home, but she never replied. I went to bed very early knowing the driver was coming to pick us up at eight the next day.

March 22, 2012

I spent the morning puttering around my apartment while waiting for the weather to turn a bit warmer before venturing outside. When I went to get rid of my trash, I noticed large numbers of the female cleaning crews shoveling the snow from the sidewalks onto the street. The trees that I had photograph practically touching the sidewalk had been set upright and looked none worse for the wear.

The weather was on the cooler side, but the sunshine made up for it as long as I stayed on the sunny side of the street. I then started to observe the large number of families out for a stroll with the female members all decked out in the atlas dresses down to the babies. The men I didn’t bother looking at since they were attired in the usual funeral black outfits. I requested permission from several parents to photograph their kids and they all agreed.

I had expected to find half of the businesses closed on this second day of Navruz; however, most of them were open. I stopped at the lamination place and although the clerk wasn’t there at the moment, I was able to leave the materials behind telling them I’d be back the following day. I then walked to a beauty parlor and found two beauticians, one doing the elaborate waist-length braids favored at this time of the year and the other applying hair coloring to another customer while deeply engrossed in a telephone call. The woman doing the braids motion for me to sit and wait while she languidly leaned against the wall chatting with the customer. After half hour of that, I walked out and found the same salon where I had had a pedicure done last year also open, but with a different set of employees. I gestured to the beautician that I wanted my hair washed and then to lope two inches all around. I was in and out of the salon in 25 minutes flat and gave the woman a generous tip of 10.00 somoni and paid the woman up front the 20.00 somoni for the haircut. The beautician looked at me and signaled I owed her half of the fee until she realized I had already paid for it. A big smile came over her face and she bowed respectfully to me.

There was the mandatory stop at F1 to use their bathroom and then on to the Kodak store to print the photos I had taken at the teachers’ training center so they could get them on Monday. I made my way to the American Councils office in a leisure manner taking photos along the way of the numerous spring posters, plantings and families out on a stroll all proclaiming that the spring season was finally here.

The staff at the American Councils had gone all out in decorating their patio for the occasion, and was just starting out the dancing portion of the celebration when I got there. I saw Rebecca, Sandy and Jennifer already there in addition to Camilla and even an African-American woman who told me she teaches at the Polyglot Institute where Pariso moonlights.

I went to take a look at the much ballyhooed sumalak which was being stirred by two volunteers while cooking on an old-fashioned wood stove. Ruth arrived shortly thereafter as did Corrie and her new roommate. The staff started serving food, something I hadn’t expected, and someone thrust a takeout container full of rice with a small whole fried fish on top. She told me the rice with parsley and the fish was the customary dish eaten in Iran for the Navruz celebration. I offered to share with both Ruth and Jennifer and they both indicated they don’t eat fish. There was no flavor, not even salt, in the rice or the fish, so I just nibbled around it a bit and decided to take it home to improve it. Ruth refused to any other of the other dishes being offered and insisted we continue with our plans of going to Merve Café for dinner.  I was a bit put off by her demand since people were still dancing and it was light enough that we could have enjoyed a few more hours outdoor.

I followed her to the café, turning down her offer of hiring a cab to cover the two-block distance, and could hear her puffing away as she walked. Ruth is overweight, a diabetic, has high blood pressure and cholesterol. She gets around by taxi, which is the last thing she needs to be doing. Merve was jumping with people as entire families were out having dinner probably for the first time this year. Women were wearing glittering outfits and mile-high pumps. Ruth complained she was practically going blind from all the bling bling.

Ruth ordered a cheese pizza, on the smallish side, and I ordered an ice cream dish with three different colors. She promptly removed the cheese from the dough and ate only that along with a bottle of water. My ice cream dish had no flavor whatsoever and appeared to be the same concoction dyed in a different color. Ruth insisted on paying for my ice cream and then she got into a taxi to return to her house. 

I walked home observing lots of people walking around carrying flowers, balloons, ice cream and popcorn. It was just then that I noticed that some government buildings and some private ones too had small strings of lights hanging on the edge of the buildings, very similar to what we’d around the Christmas season.

March 21, 2012

It looked like beautiful weather outside with blue skies and lots of sunshine. By midday, the warmth was having an impact on the intransigent snow, and I could see rivulets coming down the hills. I decided to stay put and take care of all my household chores such as doing laundry, dishes and paperwork.

Ruth called to say she had run into Munisa at the Internet café and had been given a copy of her statement of intention for the Fulbright program. While she acknowledged it wasn’t Shakespeare, it was a lot better than what her students could put together. She agreed to email it to me for comments. I found it excruciating to read based on the lack of proper tenses, wrong word choice and lack of punctuation marks. Ruth and agreed to go to the American Councils to contribute to their fundraiser by watching/stirring their sumalak tomorrow.

If today was the official day of Navruz, I saw no activity around my building or heard any music as a sign that any celebration was going on. Do I feel hurt that not a single one of my acquaintances has bothered to extend an invitation to celebrate such an important holiday? You betcha. I think that after Zoir and Aziz realized I wasn’t going to be their ticket to the United States, they dropped me like a hot potato. Neither Pariso nor Nigora, my former and current counterparts, has ever inquired as to my plans during any of the holidays. I owe to pay my neighbor Maryam a visit, but I don’t even know what the proper thing to do is during this holiday.

Someone knocked on the door and it was the utilities guy. I was surprised to see him distributing the electric bill on a holiday. I signaled to him I didn’t have money to pay on the spot and would go directly to the office to do so later. I now owe 108.72 somoni, or $22.65, which is not bad given my constant use of the wall unit to heat up the living room area.

I hope businesses are open tomorrow so I can finally get a haircut, for which I’m overdue. I also need to make more lamination and photocopies for the Saturday workshop in Qurgonteppa. It’s also time to go back to the embassy for more money. I just realized today that when I lost my wallet, I also lost my U. S. stamps and the two chips for the cell phones I had accumulated. Damn, those guys!

I stayed up late trying, unsuccessfully, to finish the book on the biography of cancer. Just about twenty more pages to go.

March 20, 2012

As expected, I had no running water this morning. The snow, hanging on to the branches of the tree outside my window, was still so thick that I couldn’t look down below to appraise the situation on the ground. I immediately made up my mind to call the PedInst and inform them I wasn’t coming for just one class. I called Nigora at 8:30am and she agreed to notify the dean.

I emailed Takhmina at Caritas International to let her know our class was off. Khurshed called me about an hour later to tell me the women in the office had taken the day off, but he and Furkat were there and he was willing to make the trip to my flat to replace the burned outlet. While I was very grateful for his offer, I told him not to worry about it for now as he couldn’t make it down the hill to my place anyway. We agreed to get it done after Navruz and I wished all of them a happy holiday.

Elbek came by with his flashdrive to transfer a program that would allow me to watch some movies already on my hard drive, but it didn’t work.

I got the expense report done and finished a long letter for my friend Stephanie. The living room was picked up, trash disposed of, and emails answered.

Tahmina, at the embassy, informed me the English Teacher Mentor program has been scheduled for April 23-25 and a meeting was needed to work out the details of our participation in it.

Temperatures must have risen considerably for I could hear chunks of snow precipitously falling from the roof, scaring the heck out of me. Rebecca told me sumalak, I’m not sure how to describe this concoction, will be stirred or cooked at the American Councils beginning at 4:30pm on Thursday. I hope to get a haircut that same day as the temperatures are supposed to go up to the 50s.

March 19, 2012

I woke up to a completely silent landscape as all sounds seemed to have been muffled by the layers upon layers of snow that had continued to fall all night. I have to give the Tajiks credit for going about their business, be it school or work, as if the snow wasn’t even there. I saw a mother struggle with her young son as we all tried to make it up the steps behind my apartment as the snow continued to swirl around us. I could have sworn this is the highest accumulation of snow I’ve ever seen for it was beginning to get into the top my hiking boots.  People had carved a path along the way and would politely step to the side to allow other people to get by, which I found endearing even if it slowed down my walk. I was wondering how many teachers would show up today under these conditions even if a party was planned to celebrate Navruz (Persian for new year) and found only four teachers gathered around the space heater. They informed me that other teachers were on their way, but had been delayed due to transportation problems.

I then noticed that many of the teachers had brought their spring outfits in plastic bags and were changing into them and adding jewelry. One young woman had had her long hair braided and added tassels at the end of each braid. There was no lesson as the teachers then set out the long tablecloths and started to display all kinds of food items including a favorite of mine: rice pudding which they told me is eaten here as a porridge for breakfast. The woman who cooked it brought it in still warm and placed a towel over the pan to insure it would remain warm. She had added a dollop of butter on top of it and it was delicious, perhaps not as creamy as I’m used to making it, but still very good. Sanifa packed me a take-home package and I had to say goodbye before the plov, which was being catered, got there since I had to go to the PedInst.

I made my customary stop at F1 to use the bathroom and noticed two young boys futilely trying to shovel the snow from the steps while wearing their typical Tajik costumes. I got splattered with the slushy snow while trying to get into a cab and then got into the wrong one. More waiting, more splashing and then boarded another shared taxi to find out I had no students waiting for me. The dean went looking for them and meanwhile two of the teachers approached with the idea of cancelling today’s training session as the weather was so frightful and some of the teachers were absent anyway. I was more than game for that option as my boots were completely soaked and so were my socks. Eight students came in and we did another vocabulary game where I discovered these students didn't know the meaning of the words sand, seaweed or marshmallow. One of the female students told she had been absent for two weeks while she attended a training session in Dubai sponsored by her employer, one of the local hotels. Not that I had missed her at all.

At the end of the class, one of the male teachers approached me to clarify a passage from the grammar textbook, once again, another 18 century piece about men attending a football match to forget reality. He didn't seem to know half of the words, but abruptly closed the book when he saw the dean come in. He confirmed that the training session for the afternoon was cancelled. Walking from the PedInst to where I catch the mini-van was an ordeal as I was carrying an additional bag with my teaching materials, the food Sanifa had packed for me and even a big jug of homemade apple and apricot juice. Trying to stay within the narrow lane opened in the middle of the sidewalk while stepping aside to allow other people to go became extremely awkward. About a block before the intersection, a young man came by and offered to carry the bag for me. I waited for more than 15 minutes and the few mini-vans that came by were already packed with people. Taxis were having a field day and even them were full. I got so fed up that I decided to walk the rest of the way home only to realize the sidewalks in that area had not even been cleared in the center and I’d have to walk on the side of the road. Just then, I spotted a young guy driving a newer car and signaling he would take passengers and when two other young women got in, I did the same.

Came home to find neither electricity nor water. I had some of the cold leftovers for lunch and went downstairs to make sure it wasn’t just my flat that was in total darkness and confirmed that we were all in the same boat. It was time to take a nap and hope power would be restored at some point. I overheard men shouting out in the landing and probably accessing the roof and whatever they did worked because my heater came back to life. Checking online, I read that Dushanbe had not seen so much snow in two decades and that it’d continue to snow until Tuesday. There were already 18 inches on the ground.

Elbek came for his classes and ended up discussing politics for the most part. Ruth called me to tell me about her ordeal to get to her post only to find four students in attendance. She feels that tomorrow should be worse as she suspects many students have already left for their respective villages. I’d not mind staying home myself tomorrow. 

March 18, 2012

Dark skies presaged rain and then the much talked-about snow scheduled for Monday. I forced myself to create and print the remaining materials for my three classes tomorrow; including the last materials I hope to have to laminate. I got enough time to finally read a long article my friend Stephanie had sent on a trip to Tajikistan made by several scientists that are collecting unusual seeds found only in this part of the world. The photos were gorgeous and I even got to learn a few more historical facts about the country.  She had also sent me critique of the movie “The Iron Lady”, which, of course, I haven’t seen, but I was furious nonetheless so see the Oscar go to Meryl Streep, who already has 5-6 of the statuettes, instead of Viola Davis for her role in “The Help”. African-American actors will never get the respect they deserve as long as the committee handing out the prizes is made up of mostly white people.

I meant to cook some “moros y cristianos” and take it to the gathering the teachers are having tomorrow for the Navruz celebration, but when I mixed the rice and the beans and they started to cook, the bottom burned completely even when the setting was “1”, the lowest possible. I certainly wasn’t taking that dish to people who have never eaten anything similar.

Spoke to my sister on Skype and got up-to-date with the family happenings. She’s getting ready to visit her first grandchild and couldn’t have been more excited. My brother-in-law sent pictures of the recent gathering at his house when my niece Leslie and her new baby came for a visit from New Jersey. I noticed that except for a further thinning of her hair, my mother looks just the same. 

March 17, 2012

I got a call from Toj at 7:00am informing me that he was already at the Opera Ballet Theater waiting for Corrie and me. I told him I was just finishing my coffee and would need at least half hour to get ready. I texted Corrie and she confirmed she’d make it by 8:00am. The ride to Qurgonteppa was quite pleasant even though it was overcast and even sprinkled at times. There were quite a teachers waiting at the American Corner by the time we got there, but no electricity, which had been absent since the previous evening. Toj fired up the generator which created an infernal noise and forced us to keep the door closed so everyone could hear me. My voice is raspy since my cough hasn’t subsided entirely. I went through my presentation on grammar games and the teachers, along with university students planning on becoming teachers, had quite a few laughs throughout the two hour session.

Tojiddin had informed us that lunch was on him as this time as his wife was home and had cooked for us. Amin, whom I had met on FB through Beth, the former ELF at the PedInst, had come to the session and joined us for lunch, too. He teaches English through an American NGO called Millennium and has been fortunate enough to win a visa through the State Department sponsored lottery. He’s scheduled to depart in May and plans to settle in Paramus, NJ.

Toj lives in a run-down apartment complex very close to the American Corner and related that his apartment had been given to him by the President of Tajikistan after the president attended one of his classes and was impressed with the highly energetic teacher who had been to the United States under the TEA program. I was dismayed to find out that he had married his wife when she was only 16 and they already had four children under the age of five. The poor woman, and Toj’s sister, had prepared quite a spread for us, and of course, they stayed in the kitchen the whole time we were there.

                                     Sumptuous spread for lunch at Toj's house.

                                      Amin, Tojiddin, Corrie and me.

The afternoon session featured fewer attendees, but Corrie carried on with her presentation on easy writing tasks for beginner students. I think I’m going to poach a few of her ideas to try them out at the PedInst next week. The taxi driver was scheduled to pick us up at 3:30pm and so we lingered a while longer chatting with the college students and the one teacher who stayed behind badgering her students to converse with us. I got to show them at least two other games I had had no time to cover and also got them to understand the difference between the uses of “will” and “going to”. All in all, it was quite a productive day. Toj asked us to come back next week as the teachers will be back from their Nav Ruz holiday.

Corrie and I caught up on all the happenings while she was on vacation in Uzbekistan and I learned she has found a roommate and will be moving out of her apartment at the end of the month. The driver stopped to let us get some local flowers on sale by the roadside and insisted on paying for a pair of them for each of us. He said tradition has it that women rub the flowers over their eyebrows so they continue to grow as pretty as the flowers he referred to as a tulip, but which looked more like an iris.

I begged the driver, through Corrie of course, to drop me off close to my apartment as my bladder was in desperate need of being emptied and he complied. He even asked if we wanted to be picked up at the same intersection next week, to which we were more than glad to agree. Corrie told me there was a Saint Patrick's Day party at one of the embassy's employee's home and I was welcome to come, but I wanted nothing more than the quietude of my apartment.

Finally back home to relax for a bit. I watched a very sad documentary on RT about a couple of babies being switched at birth and how that destroyed a family entirely. Hard to believe that these mistakes are still taking place around the world.

March 16, 2012

Rain was pounding the roof when I woke up this morning. Oh, how I wished I could have stayed home and just relaxed reading, listening to music and drinking coffee. Instead, it was time to gather my materials and head to the institute. While riding in the mini-van, I met a young woman who also studies there and hopes to become an English teacher. She’s in her third year and very shy about speaking English with a foreigner. While the students participated in a role play ordering food at a restaurant, I discovered that they don’t know what to call the meat that comes from different animals and kept referring to them as cow, pig and sheep. So, another teachable moment came upon me.

Erach, my star student among the future teachers, reminded me he wants to travel to Khulob with us next time we go for the teacher training workshop and have us stay at his house. He’ll even arrange for the transportation back and forth with a trusted driver. I noticed that the wheels on the space heater are already broken as many students, mostly female, gather around it whenever the room is open and keep moving it from one side to another.

I proceeded to the copy center to put together the handout for the workshop in Qurgonteppa tomorrow. Nigina came in and helped as usual even recommending a little place to eat at next door. Like many other workplaces in Dushanbe, her company has a canteen for the employees and she eats every day, so she turned down my invitation. She walked with me and placed my order for plov and salad. I turned down the tea as I find it pretty much tasteless. The little place housed six tables and the kitchen could be seen through a cutout in the wall. I was a brought a decent-sized plate of plov with shredded carrots and turnips in a smaller platter. One soft flat bread was brought in later on. I was ravenous and ate everything in sight.

I had meant to retrace my steps and go pick up the lamination, but the rain had really picked up by now and didn’t feel like walking around carrying all that weight under the rain. I took the mini-van and returned home where I promptly took a nap as the TV satellite was out. When I got up, I had enough energy to tackle my expense report, which takes forever as the program refuses to accept electronic receipts and thus forces me to photocopy every piece of paper and every approval ever received from my RELO. 

Elbek came in for his class and promised to bring me a program that’d allow me to watch the movies I copied at Marydean’s house. I continue to read the fascinating history of cancer research and treatment around the world.

March 15, 2012

I slept poorly having dreamed of an ugly confrontation with my brother and then of making a trip to my bank only to find out that all my funds had been withdrawn by an unknown party. It took me a while to get over a splitting headache and then gather the energy to get dressed and ready for classes.

I asked my interpreters’ group of students why they all dressed in black as if they were heading to a funeral and they said they liked black. When asked why they liked black, they couldn’t say. Talk about lack of introspection. I gave them an activity to create a fact file about Tajikistan including such data as population, religion, festivals and so on. They had never seen the word “festival” or could only think of one religion, Islam, and didn’t know what an emblem or motto was. When I proposed playing “Bingo’ afterwards, they didn’t know what I was talking about and even after showing them the template with the 25 squares, it was still unfamiliar to them.

                                    The ever-changing schedule at the PedInst is displayed here.

I was walking toward the soup place when a student pointed out to me that someone was trying to get my attention. It was Nigora who was accompanied by Beth, the previous ELF at the PedInst. She had come to the institute to meet with former students and was not available for lunch. When Nigora left us, she wanted to know how things were going and told her exactly what had transpired in the months since we lasted emailed each other. She apologized for not having answered my last email in which I asked for more specific answers to issues at the university. She confirmed my suspicion that the dean had transferred me to the interpreters’ group this semester not because the first year students had done poorly in their exams, but because those students don’t pay tuition while the interpreters do. I told her the dean had commented that he had promised the interpreters they would have a native speaker as a teacher prior to their graduation and he had fulfilled his promise regardless of whether they were prepared for such a transition or not. Beth promised to call me so we could chat, but she has a full schedule of visits and trips with the Operation Mercy NGO she plans to work with starting in August.

I had my soup and went to Caritas International for our conversation class. I happened to mention I needed to go to the embassy to cash a check and Khurshed, bless his heart, informed me he was heading that way too and could give me a ride. That saved me about an hour’s ride in an uncomfortable mini-van. Val, the cashier, was in his usual high spirits and was totally dismayed when I told him about having my wallet stolen. I stopped by Tahmina’s desk just in case there was a letter or package for anyone of us, but she wasn’t around. Sandy was on the telephone and after a while showed where several packages were and that a letter from my friend Stephanie had just arrived. I had two other packages waiting. It was obvious that no one intended to call me to let me know. I felt so very tired on the way home and had to take a nap before dinner. I still need to work on the materials for the workshop on Saturday at Qurgonteppa. I have no energy left.

I opened the packages and found Kashi’s energy bars, a pair of red velvet gloves, two pairs of leggings and more cocoa envelopes not to mention the cool powder one can drop inside the gloves to keep my hands warm. I’m so fortunate to have such a caring friend.

March 14, 2012

The smell of burnt plastic still pervades the apartment, but at least the wall unit was functioning and keeping the living room relatively warm. My 9:30 class was already waiting for me and we proceeded to play more vocabulary games such as “Scattergories”, which they really enjoyed, but found extremely challenging. I didn’t have another class until the teachers’ training session at 1:30pm and asked Nigora to secure the key to the bathroom for me as I could not last any longer, but just like Pariso, she told me there was no bathroom available in the building and I needed to walk to the one used by the students. I took her by the hand and showed her the bathroom and informed her that the dean and his assistant had keys to this bathroom and I needed to use it. By sheer coincidence, one of the teachers in that part of the building is currently participating in my workshops and inquired as to my presence there. When I told him of my desperate need to use the bathroom, he told me he’d go and secure the key. By this time, a group of students stood around us and waited there while I used the facility. I didn’t know that my using a toilet could be a source of entertainment for them.

I went to exchange money, again, to buy more stock paper for lamination, another plug for my living room and to have some more cards laminated. It was raining lightly, but it wasn’t too cold. When I got to the soup place and ordered my usual, a PedInst student whom I had talked to several times, approached my table and asked if she could join me. She’s a fourth year student in the teachers’ program, who had expressed an interest in participating in the workshops at the American Corner, but never showed up. She now has to write her thesis to obtain the equivalent to master degree and needs help with that project. With her limited English, I don’t understand how she can write a 60 page thesis about anything! She insisted on paying for my soup and I offered to give her some electronic materials I have to help with her work.

My classroom was occupied by another class and I had to find another empty room to organize my materials in the meantime. A friend of Hurshed, whom he had mentioned would be calling me about English classes, called through a friend and confirmed she doesn’t speak any English at all. I let her know I don’t teach beginners and had very little time for private classes anyway. The young woman doing the calling then wanted to know if I’d be willing to hold a class for people at the Ministry of Health where they all work. I told her I needed to think about it.

The teachers’ workshop went relatively well, but one of the teachers expressed the opinion that Arabic should be the international language and not English because Arabic hasn’t changed at all since its inception. I countered by saying that all languages must change to adapt and that I was sure Arabic didn’t have words to refer to the computer, its parts or the Internet and had either to adopt the English terms or come up with new ones. He didn’t say anything else. The hubris! Teachers were given their own copy of the conversation booklet and told to do four pages for each class. We’ll see how that goes.

Elbek came in for his class and had never heard of similes. When I asked him to bring me his class textbook so I could have an idea what he’s studying in his English class at school, he responded by saying he had come into his class in October and all books had been handed out already. He doesn’t have a book and only borrows it from another classmate to do his homework. Apparently, the idea of his parents buying a copy just for him hadn’t occurred to anyone.

March 13, 2012

It was not too cold outside, which was good as the snow didn’t have a chance to crystallize into ice yet. I took the mini-van directly to printing place and got the mini-booklets for the teachers’ conversation class along with other photocopies needed. They were gracious enough to give me another receipt to substitute the one lost when my wallet was stolen. Nigina made the comment that one time while riding the trolley someone just sliced her purse away from her shoulder and she didn’t even feel it. Walking back to the PedInst, I noticed the female crews frantically shoveling the snow away from one of the government buildings. The same thing was happening yesterday in front of the presidential palace. Apparently, the rest of the citizens don’t deserve the same level of service.

                                 Snow shoveling in front of one of the government buildings

Pariso sidled up to me as I was entering the building and wanted to know if the fourth year students were vastly superior to the first year ones. I told her that wasn’t the case since these students were also being taught in Tajik or Russian and had no familiarity with the sounds of English.  She also wanted to know about the level of the teachers participating in the conversation class, but I avoided the subject. Speaking to one of the students in the interpreters’ program, I noticed she didn’t even know how to pronounce the names of different languages. We played a couple of rounds of the game Tic Tac Toe for “Countries, Languages and Nationalities” only to show their level of ignorance regarding other countries.

While talking about the lack of reliability of the electrical service in Dushanbe, I mentioned  to the group at Caritas that I needed the services of an electrician to repair the damage done to the outlet in the living room of my apartment and Hurshed felt it might not be a serious problem and he was willing to take a look at it after work. I felt immensely relieved. As I was walking on Rudaki to go back home, Furkat came by in their SUV and gave me a lift. 

Hurshed and the driver came by and promptly removed the melted power strip from the outlet, removed the cables from the other one that had burned before and plugged into another outlet high on the wall. Within minutes, power had been restored and my wall unit was heating up the space. TV, DVD and satellite box were all working fine. My relief was palpable as I had been concerned about all these appliances been beyond repair. Hurshed asked me to buy a new outlet and he’ll come by to replace it. I couldn’t have been happier or more appreciative of his efforts. 

March 12, 2012

It had apparently snowed throughout the night for the tree branches were laden with heavy snow. It was Monday, so it seemed like destiny that it has to snow on Mondays. I wonder how the President feels today having declared on February 29 as the end of the winter season. I had to find a pair of leggings and an undershirt, stuff I had put away just a week ago thinking spring was here to stay. The snow that continued to fall was the wet, slushy kind that sticks to your coat, hat and gloves, soaks your boots down to your socks and makes you feel miserable.

I first went to exchange some money at the supermarket nearby, almost tripping on their darn polished granite steps and then continued to walk to the teachers’ training center where we had a round of “Kim’s Game” where even the women couldn’t name any of the common kitchen utensils I had brought in. Zhulejo informed me that next Monday, the group will be celebrating Nav Ruz and will love to have me included. I’ll try to bring in something as well. Sanifa asked me at the end of the session not to give up on them. I took a shared taxi to the PedInst to avoid the crowded trolley.

 As I was approaching the PedInst, Ilana recognized me and stopped to say hello. She said she’s pretty busy at the American Corner and not to refer any more students as her classes cannot accept any more of them. Quite a few of the students in the teacher’s group were absent today. Nigora came in to let me know she wasn’t feeling well either and was planning on going to the doctor again. I had my bowl of soup and was setting up for the professional development class, when one of the male teachers came in for advice. He has applied for a vacant position at the same language institute where Pariso teaches and needs to give a demonstration lesson next Saturday. He has no idea what to do in order to hook the students and keep the lesson interesting or even a topic in mind that he’d like to show them. He wants for me to give him a lesson plan. I offered to give him a template, but doubt that will be the end of it.

I had the usual problem with some teachers popping in to sign the attendance sheet and then leaving to take care of other obligations. The dean didn’t show up and Nigora didn’t come back either. When I got home, there was a heavy odor of burned plastic and I found out, to my dismay and frustration, that the electric strip where I plug my laptop and printer had burned and melted. The wall unit was out along with the TV set, DVD player and satellite box. I didn’t even have lights in the room. I knew I couldn’t call my landlady for all I could see her doing is ordering me out of the apartment, and with 6-8 inches of snow on the ground, I can’t risk it.

I called Elbek for his class and then asked him to contact his uncle who might know of an electrician capable of unplugging the strip and maybe replacing the outlet. I’m not even sure that doing just that would be sufficient to restore power to the rest of the appliances. I had to beat a retreat to my bedroom where heat and power supply were still available. 

March 11, 2012

Another rainy Sunday and my first instinct was to remain in my pajamas while catching up on my reading, both online and in my books. Instead, I forced myself to get dressed and traveled to the PedInst to meet with Oigul so we could travel together to her apartment. Farzona and another student joined us there and we took another mini-van to a nine-story building that looked like a relatively new construction. Oigul confirmed it had been built in 1991 and her mother had been given an apartment there because both she and her husband are disabled in one form or another. Oigul is an only child, something quite unusual here, and the apartment in question was really small: a combination living room/bedroom for her parents and a tiny bedroom leading to a kitchen in what was intended as a balcony. There was no source of heat in that room. The place did have a western-style toilet, for which I was grateful. Her mother is 46 years old, but looked much older than I do. Her plov was one of the best I have had in Dushanbe and I spent a very relaxing couple of hours chit chatting with the students, Oigul’s mother and a neighbor who came in to join us. This other woman is also 46 and has been a widow for the last 22 years. She complained of numerous aches and pains and acted like someone who was in her 80s. I got a brief tour of the apartment complex which includes a grocery store and a produce market. There is an adjacent field for playing sports and the elementary school where Oigul’s mother works is within walking distance.

I returned to my apartment and took a short nap before heading to Ryan’s house where he had invited another group of friends for dinner. This time there was Charlotte from the Netherlands, and a guy from India who had grown up in Kenya. They both work for Medicine Sans Frontiers and have been in Dushanbe for several months. Ryan dominated the conversation, as usual, talking about the Philippines, and all its ills while dropping names familiar to other people working in the field of developmental work. I could barely keep my eyes open and begged off before nine o’clock as did have to get up early to prepare for my three classes the following day.

When I stepped outside the building, the rain had already turned into snow. I was glad I had remembered to bring a flashlight with me for the alleyway was pitch black and someone had stolen the light bulb at the top of the landing. I continued to read another fascinating book that seems to dovetail perfectly with “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks”, a book on the history of cancer: “The Emperor of All Maladies”. Highly recommended at the last meeting of the Dushanbe book club. 

March 10, 2012

Rain was clearly approaching as I walked to the American Corner. Doctors and nurses at the Gynecological Hospital were raking leaves and turning over the soil in preparation for the spring planting and so were the employees at the Natural Science Academy where the American Corner shares a space. Ruth was just approaching carrying a heavy bag with juices and cookies for the break. She did a presentation on children songs that could even be played with adults and the attendees were receptive enough to play along. The dean came in for about twenty minutes, enough to sign in and ensure he’ll get a certificate and then left supposedly for a conference where his presence was required, or so he said.

Raking leaves and preparing the soil for the spring planting.

                                 Workshop attendees for the songs in the classroom session.

Munisa called to confirm she’d be joining Ruth and I for lunch and I suggested we go to the Lebanese restaurant nearby instead of going back to the Uyghur’s restaurant we had visited last week. We went across the street to use Ruth’s bathroom and I saw that she was paying $550.00 for a smaller place than my own with no washing machine, a small, old TV set and no dining room. True, her location is much more desirable than mine, but I still feel I have a much more upscale and pleasant flat. Ruth doesn’t cook at all, so it doesn’t bother her that the fridge is the size we normally see in hotel rooms. Munisa was waiting in front of the American Corner and we proceeded to Al Sharma where we found the place completely empty. The hummus and baba ganoush, while prettily served, had no flavor whatsoever and the pita bread was nowhere to be seen. Instead, we got large round pieces of flat bread that had been heated in a plastic bag in the microwave. I ordered spicy fries that came overly salty, but not particularly spicy.

Both Munisa and Ruth ordered shish kebabs, beef and lamb, and we shared those. The meal was palatable, but not remarkable. I walked Ruth back to her flat and then went to a nearby bakery to buy some pastries to take to my student’s house where I have been invited tomorrow for dinner or lunch, I’m not quite sure. It was a relief to go back to my apartment and know that no one was scheduled to come by. I made a big mug of coffee and deeply enjoyed the solitude of my place.

                                                     Ruth, our newest Fulbrighter

My sister called me on Skype and we spent a couple of hours catching up on the latest happenings including her becoming a grandmother for the first time. My mom continues to be cranky and my sister is making plans to have her move from her house to a small apartment in Miami. I hope this goes smooth as I know how difficult my mother can be. 

March 9, 2012

Clear skies, soft breezes, and magnificent views of the mountains. What more could one ask for? I got to the PedInst at 9:15, and found the dean teaching in my classroom and using the whiteboard as he apparently has access to markers. When he left, he didn’t bother to erase what he had written on it. I had the teachers’ group and finished doing the category game before giving them one of those role play games where one is the doctor and the other the patient. Vocabulary was an issue, isn’t always here? But once they got started, five pair came to the front and played their roles quite confidently. Erach remarked that this was the first class where the students had ever been free to talk to each other and the class as a whole.

Since I go the approval of the embassy and my RELO to print a mini-booklet of conversation topics for the teachers’ class, I headed to the copiers where, with lots of help from Nigina, I was able to order twenty booklets and a copy for myself. I walked back to the soup place and had my usual bowl before heading back to my classroom to set up the tables and chairs to my liking. One of my former students, Oigul, came by to remind me that she’s expecting me for lunch/dinner on Sunday. I promised to bring dessert. Nigora came by and informed me that she has been married for three years and was desperately trying to get pregnant as her in-laws and friends keep pestering her about her inability to conceive. She’s undergoing fertility treatment and hopes that by next year she’ll be a mother, too.

                                                     Proud grandfather out for a stroll

Several teachers from the Tuesday session didn’t show up this time and new ones did. We went through some similes matching and answered the question “What was your best experience during your college years?”. I wrote up a summary on the board about the various responses and then the dean asked me to include my own there. Apparently, he wants to receive a certificate too and although he came in late and left early, he promised to attend the next session in its entirety. When I gave them an assignment for homework and told them to back up their opinions by listing their reasons as “X, Y,Z”, they all looked at me as if I were speaking in Chinese. Pariso didn’t show up for the class again. No chance in hell she’s getting a certificate from me when all she seems to care about is making money and not really improving her teaching skills.

Elbek came by for his lesson. I forgot to mention that he had brought me a trio of daffodil flowers and some jewelry yesterday as a tribute on International Women’s Day. When I asked Tohir what women did on this day, he said nothing. Marydean opined that only under a misogynistic society did women need to have a day to celebrate them since they never enjoy equality and have little hope of ever achieving that dream.

I still have no access to Facebook. Marydean was in fact surprised that the government has shown enough technical know-how to pull it off. I asked Elbek if he knew of any proxy I could use to get around the blockage, but he didn’t know any.

The landlady’s husband showed up and indicated the problem with the fuses was resolved and I could turn the electric heater and wall unit back on. I had him signed a receipt acknowledging payment of March’s rent and then he left. I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to receive an eviction notice at some point, but I’m not going to worry about that now.