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.