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an ugly confrontation with my brother and then of making a trip to my bank only to find out that all my funds had been withdrawn by an unknown party.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.