April 30, 2012

I had racked my brains trying to think of something to bring to the teachers’ gathering at the Professional Development Center, but nothing came to mind and I was still too tired to consider trekking to the supermarkets for something like sweets. I decided instead to use up the last of my paper and print as many handouts as possible to give to them as a parting gift as they had requested them in the past whenever we had an activity. There were only a handful of female teachers at 8:30 and then Zulekho came in to tell me there had been a change in the program and all teachers were now required to attend a seminar on writing sponsored by the Ministry of Education. When I asked her if the seminar was going to be conducted in English, she said no, it’d be in Tajik. I agreed to return at 11:00am when they had arranged to have lunch at a restaurant. I was so relieved I had not bothered to buy anything to contribute to the lunch.

I walked to the photo finishing place and dropped off my memory card to get the prints for Eraj. I decided to peruse the goods at the nearby Tsum Department Store while waiting and the first thing I saw was a display of Ipads and Samsung’s tablets. The young salesperson spoke English and took the tablet out of the case so I could feel its weight and play with the digital icons. They are asking $540.00 dollars for it and $800.00 for the IPad 3. I wonder how many Tajiks can afford such luxuries. I visited a small shop selling souvenirs from Iran and thought of something to buy for Stephanie before my departure. I then ran into a stout, tall Western woman buying crockery at another stall and she told she had arrived recently and wanted to get in touch with some NGO that worked only on women’s issues. I took her card and promised to put her in touch with Takhmina at Caritas’ as she would have that information for sure.

                                Bouquets of flowers left oustide the Tsum Department Store

I picked up my prints and went back to the training center, but the seminar continued past eleven. I looked at a map on the wall, but couldn’t locate Gharm and asked two people to give me an idea but neither one of them knew where it was supposed to be located. When everyone was ready, we boarded the #11 mini-van and traveled to the same area where Caroline used to teach and had lunch at a fancy teahouse where I was not allowed, once again, to sit and eat al fresco on the beautifully carved tapchon. As guess that since our group had shrunk somewhat and there were no men in it, sitting outside was a no-no.

                                                        Tapchon                      

                                   Tapchon - another view

                                                   Just pretending

I had soup, salad and bread along with lemon tea. When the obligatory shashlik appeared, I turned them down as I find it difficult to eat a whole skewer of shish kebabs on my own.

Beautiful salad sans dressing

                                                                           Ditto

                                 Kolcha, the pillowy, soft and chewy bread I've become addicted to.

I was running late for my class at Caritas and Sanifa put me in a taxi to get there quicker. The young driver must have considered himself a younger version of Dale Earhart as he drove like a maniac only slowing done when I wanted to take a picture of a car loaded with seven mattresses on top. Through gestures, he informed he had carried ten of them on top of his car one time.

                                             Mattresses galore!

We had much fun at Caritas discussing idioms and the many meanings of words ending in “man”. We confirmed the potluck at my place on Friday between 3-4:00pm and I offered to cook the oxtail, curry lamb and rice and beans while the group will take care of rounding out the meal with the necessary components. Khurshed mentioned wanting to include the drivers if there was enough room at the table and informed him I had a long tablecloth and we could have dinner Tajik style on the floor.

Heading back to catch the mini-van, I ran into my students from the teacher group and we chatted for a while agreeing to meet on Thursday after their last test to deliver the materials for two more kurtas and to visit one of the student’s hostel to see what is like living there. Shamsullo had mentioned during our lunch on Saturday that the best five years of his life had been spent at this same hostel or dormitory as we would call it, as the camaraderie was great and he had to learn to cook, do laundry and survive on his own.

I barely made it home before the downpour started again with lots of thundering and high winds. Elbek came for his class and we spent a lot of time looking at a great map of the region I lifted from the embassy’s library last time I was there. I had called Ryan to postpone our trip to the hot springs until the weather was warmer and he in turn had invited me to an outing this weekend to a place we couldn’t find on the map. I got a text message from Jamshed saying he had students waiting for me at his center. Since I had never agreed to meet with these students before hand, I simply ignore it.

Eraj came by and I was able to deliver the presents for his family in Khulob: a small food processor for his mother so she doesn’t need to do all that chopping by hand, a set of lotion, soap and other toiletries for his wife and a set of the photos taken at their house including a framed photo of Eraj’s daughter. He tried to chastise me for spending so much money on these presents, but I know in my heart that they spent more than that hosting us that weekend.

I went to bed exhausted but happy. At least tomorrow I don’t have to teach anywhere for a change.

April 29, 2012

I slept slightly better on the couch and got up to find more rain peppering the ground and no signs that the sun would grace us that day either. Janice had called the day before and encouraged us to visit a local museum about 20-25 minutes away by taxi where some awesome views could be had of the Rasht Valley. Corrie seemed to be suffering from cabin fever and wanted to go up there even if there was nothing to see. I cooked breakfast this time and cleaned the kitchen thoroughly while Corrie got ready for this outing. We had only walked about two blocks on the way to picking up a taxi when the rain started again. I refused to continue on as I didn’t have a coat and was already shivering.

Corrie said she was willing to walk up the hills on the back of Janice’s house and since the rain had stopped at that point, I said I’d accompany her until it came back again. We had delightful walk, as the sun did come through, up and down some alleyways while being followed by some curious children and being offered to come for tea by some of the women. When Mr. Sharbat called to say the taxi driver was on his way to pick us up and then take us to his house for lunch, we retraced our steps not before being enticed to come into a house by a woman offering us a bit of porridge. The family was celebrating an engagement with all women in one room and all the men in another. The porridge in question was vile, a mixture of buckwheat and beef tallow, and after two bites I gave up on it. I asked Corrie to convey to the hostess my apologies, but we already had lunch waiting for us someplace else. Instead of having to sing for our supper, the hostess insisted we had to dance at least once before being released. The guys came from the other room, one of them with a video camera, and watched us. After we did our part, we fled the house.

                                                       
                                                 Dancing away

Our taxi driver was at the house waiting and then drove us about half hour to Mr. Sharbat’s house where another repast was awaiting us including the biggest flat bread I have ever seen. He lives with his two daughters, a daughter-in-law he calls “our bride” and his first grandson. One of his sons lives in Russia. He has been a widower for some time. Our soup was greasy and tasteless. I asked for hot peppers to give it some piquancy and then ate fruit and drank coffee. The toilet, the first one I’ve ever seen with two separate holes for what appears to be one for each bodily function, was some distance from the house and one of the daughter was entrusted with the task of walking me there under an umbrella and waiting for me with water to wash my hands afterwards.

                       

                                             Locally made flat bread

We got on road about 1:30pm and were delighted to find that the traffic was much lighter, being a Sunday I supposed, and that the road crew had leveled out much of the rough patch where we had been stopped for a long time on Friday. With only two brief stops for Corrie to take some outdoor photos, I was too cold to set foot out of the car, and another to buy what appeared to be fresh rhubarb, we got to the outskirts of Dushanbe around six. The driver stopped there to get his car washed and we asked why there was such a law in the city that you couldn’t drive around with a dirty car. His response was that the city was clean and therefore cars had to be so too. It sounded like circular reasoning to me, but I kept my own counsel.

                                                 Our taxi driver, who said he's 53 years old.

We asked the driver if he could drop us off close to my flat so I’d not have to carry my many parcels again, but he refused. We paid him and got our receipt quickly as rain was beginning to fall lightly and I had a long way to go. My apartment never appeared more welcoming than when I finally made it to the fourth floor and was able to drop my bags. Jamshed kept calling me, but I refused to answer the phone as I was simply spent and needed some solitude at that point.

April 28, 2012

I slept badly as the korpachas were too narrow and kept sliding off my body and the cushion as I was using as a pillow was too unyielding under my head. It was a relief to see light coming through the windows and be able to make myself a pot of coffee in Janice’s resplendent Turkish gas stove. Rain was still coming down and low clouds kept me from admiring the magnificent views of the mountains Janice had promised us. Corrie got up shortly after that and offered to fry a couple of eggs for each of us which we had with flat bread and juice. Mr. Sharbat had shown us how to get to the center of town and we had made our way almost to the American Corner when Shamsullo pulled over in his friend’s BMW and gave us a ride the rest of the way.

I had put on another kurta and pants outfit with the camisole underneath and traded my shawl for a very heavy one Janice had hanging on her coat rack while taking pains not to drag it through the mud. My white socks were getting muddy and wet, but I had brought my new sandals to change into them once I got to the American Corner. This corner is located in what is called the “Telecommunications” building and we were treated to piped music from a local radio station the entire time we were there. At nine o’clock, there was no one there but Shamsullo and us. Six college students, all future teachers of English, gathered around us by ten o’clock and we started an introduction activity followed by having them write a portrait using some of Corrie’s photos, which we then discovered were almost the same ones I had collected back home.  

                                   Future English teachers writing a portrait.

Shamsullo took us to one of the two restaurants in the town and we were given the usual choices: salad, soup and shish kebabs. When I said I wanted something more substantial after eating just soup the day before, I was told plov was not on the menu. Shamsullo pulled out his cell phone and called a friend to bring it over right away. When I asked him if the restaurant would not be upset to see customers bring their own food, he said they’d have to accept it because they weren’t serving it. The plov arrived relatively fast and relatively warm. We were given three spoons to eat communally from the plate, something I’m just beginning to get used to. Shamsullo took care of the bill before we even realized it. We then took a quick walk through the bazaar, a muddy mess of small kiosks under tarps that leaked over our heads the whole time. Shamsullo pointed to the public toilet and I just had to hold my nose so as not to lose my lunch while using it as the American Corner does not have one.

The Access students that Shamsullo teaches under contract with the U. S. Embassy were already waiting for us and eagerly set out to do the “Animal, Vegetable, Mineral” worksheet after I forced them to pair up a female to a male. Subsequently, Corrie had them sit face to face and do a quick interview of their partner with the questions that had been handed to them ahead of time. After a brief exchange, the students switched places and started again. It went quite well thanks to fast thinking on Corrie’s part. This group of students was certainly very articulate and appeared more advanced than the group of future teachers we had had in the morning. They sang “Yankee Doodle” to us before we left.

                                                Animal, Vegetable or Mineral?

                                                           Speed Interviewing

We got in a taxi with Mr. Sharbat to go to the second Access program some 25 minutes away under torrential rains. There were two beginner groups and an advanced one, so Corrie took the beginners to one room and I stayed with the smaller group of girls in the advanced one. I did an introductory game, concentration and lastly “Taboo”. I couldn’t think of a word to illustrate this definition that might not be offensive and asked Mr. Sharbat, who had been nodding off by then, for help out at that point. The girls were not able to play the game as they lacked enough vocabulary about occupations to describe them without using the ones on the card. I wrote all the vocabulary on the board and promised his teacher to send him the game electronically so he could play with them again once they had had a chance to go over the vocabulary.

                                Access students introducing themselves.

                                                     Ditto

                                                         

                                                          Playing "Taboo"

Back on the taxi and to the main street where I asked Mr. Sharbat if we could buy some soup and bread to take home to eat later, as obviously, I’d not be coming back into town for dinner. He looked perplexed, scratched his head and said we could look into the few shops still open to see if a suitable container could be found in which to buy the soup from the restaurant and carry it home. More trudging in the rain, going up and down stairs and we ended up in the part of the restaurant where the curtains are drawn so men can smoke and drink in private. There was some kind of a celebration going on and a young woman in a loud neon green gown was dancing rather suggestively while surrounded by half a dozen men. Corrie and I looked at each other, but couldn’t say much as the music, played a band of five musicians, was deafening. We then learned this was a bachelor’s party and the father of the groom was a former student of Mr. Sharbat who then invited us to his table and plied us with food, chocolates, and tea. The soup we had ordered was forgotten and instead, the owner of the restaurant wanted for me to join the dancing group, but there were too many men who seemed completely wasted and I didn’t want to make a spectacle of myself.

This dancer is part of the band and all my Tajik cultural informants tell me she's not a "good girl".

This older woman also danced during the celebration, but I couldn't ascertain her role.

As prescribed by law, the party couldn’t go on for more than three hours, so out into the freezing rain we went. I was in no mood to walk back up the hill and offered to pay for a taxi. Mr. Sharbat accompanied us to the gate and promised to make the arrangements with the taxi driver so we could leave for Dushanbe by 2:00pm the next day. I was already concerned that the inordinate amount of rain might have made the road even worse than it had been coming in.

Corrie tried to arrange an outing with another ex-pat she had met in Dushanbe who lives in Gharm, but given the weather conditions, he later called to cancel. I was happy, now that I full, to just stay home reading and listening to the rain fall. Corrie came to the living room and we ended up talking until ten. I then decided to sleep on the sofa and cover myself with one of the blankets.

April 27, 2012

Rain was in the air when I got up this morning and I tried to make it to the PedInst before the downpour started. The grounds and the hallways were deserted, but five students were waiting for me in the dark classroom which didn’t look any brighter when I turned on the lone light bulb on the ceiling. Two of the students had been present the day before, but were willing to repeat the lesson on creating a portrait based on the photo I provided. The students did confirm that they had tests scheduled for the first three days of the following week even when I quizzed about the fact that Tuesday was May First, or workers’ day, all over the world, except of course in the United States. They didn’t know anything about it. Eraj called in the middle of the lesson to tell me he was having trouble following the email thread from the German Embassy regarding his scholarship for this summer. Since I was heading to the American Corner to retrieve the PedInst’s certificates, I agreed to meet him there when my class was over.

Delivering flat bread to the grocery store near the PedInst. Germs don't seem to be a concern here.

The American Corner was practically empty and all I needed to do for Eraj was locate the attached document they had submitted and get the coordinator to print all three pages for him so he could submit them to the German Embassy. I had two more stops to make: the post office to see if my coffee shipment from Seattle had ever made it to Tajikistan and then the seamstress for another dress. Eraj accompanied to both places to serve as my interpreter with negative results at the post office and reassurances from the dressmaker, at the next one, that said dress would be ready for Monday, something I didn’t believe for a minute.

I was hungry by then and we stopped at a nearby café for lunch and I finally tried what Tajiks call “soup petit”, but can’t explain the origin of the name. They cook it in a piece of round crockery and had more flavor than other soups I’ve tried in the past. We parted ways so I could go back to the house, finish packing and meet our taxi driver to head to Gharm. I had my school bag draped over one shoulder, my overnight bag over the other, the market bag where I have placed all my cards and games in one hand, and a set of fly swatters on the other as I made my way to the Opera Ballet Theater where Mr. Sharbat’s son was waiting for us to make sure we got in the right taxi. I ought to have the biceps of bodybuilder by now and instead all I do is grunt and sweat my way to wherever I need to go with miscellaneous loads.

Corrie was not there yet and was in fact more than fifteen minutes late. Mr. Sharbat’s son spoke about 20 words of English and used them up in the first couple of sentences. After that, there was a lot of staring and smiling at each other. We got on the road before the downpour started and drove for a couple of hours before we both felt extremely hungry. The driver suggested a desolate spot for this purpose where the outdoor tapchons were useless due to the windy and cold conditions. The shorbot soup was greasy, the meat tough and full of gristle and the bread cold and hard. I had to find the toilet some ways from the so called “restaurant” and it was just a hole in the ground surrounded by a big tarp. I realized then that I had not even thought about what the weather conditions might be in Gharm and thus lacked any warm garments to protect myself. I had on jeans, a camisole and cardigan, my TEVA sandals and a shawl while Corrie wore hiking boots, her lightweight coat and three other layers underneath. I had to take out the socks I normally wear at night to cover my feet.

The driver warned us that the next 34 kilometers were going to be extremely rough as the Chinese government is widening the highway at the spot where most landslides have occurred killing numerous motorists and passengers. We saw lots of trucks carrying what he called war materials from the U. S. air base in Kirgizstan to Afghanistan. There were also lots of Chinese trucks bringing in merchandise for sale in Dushanbe. We were stopped for a while as the traffic at that point was one way only.

                                          Waiting for the road to Gharm to reopen

After five and half hour of riding over some really scary roads, we arrived at the city of Gharm with its one-street center. It was already dark, but Mr. Sharbat was waiting for us and waited while we picked a few grocery items and fresh bread before heading to Janice’s house, the American woman who lives here full time while trying to develop a bee-keeping operation and to attract tourism to the region. The house was a bit ramshackle with several large rooms opening along a corridor and a kitchen that reminded me of those I’ve seen in movies made in France. She does have a lot of different coffee grinders and coffees from a variety of roasters, so a woman after my own heart. I had packed my coffeemaker and ground coffee just in case.

The caretaker brought in a space heater from her bedroom and asked us to hang any grocery items not going into the fridge from a peg in the kitchen wall due to a problem with ants. There was no TV, computer or Internet service available, but plenty of books around, many of them about horses as I understand Janice is a accomplished rider. I chose to sleep in the living room,  where a twin-size mattress was on display,  with handy access to the western-style toilet and Corrie slept in the guest bedroom. The rain did not let up for a moment and I was tired enough that attempting to read even a few pages felt too much like a chore.

April 26, 2012

I refused to set up my alarm the night before for the dean had never called me to confirm if I was to report to classes or not. I slept until 7:00am and was just finishing my coffee when Sohib, from the interpreter’s class, called asking if I was going to show up. I told him it would take me quite some time to get there and he offered to come in his father’s car and pick me up. In that case, I agreed to go and got ready for him. There were only eight students in the classroom and I had them try describing a person by giving them a choice of laminated photos, a list of vocabulary to describe physical features and one for personality types. I knew this would be a challenging activity simply because they’d have to use their imagination to come up with details about the person in the photo. The student closest to me couldn’t even write the simplest of words without making a mistake. It’s a struggle for them to just identify a woman as “she” and not a “he”. The dean came in at this time and informed me he had given permission to some of the students to go to the new public library. I told him he owed me an apology for not calling or replying to my email, which he acknowledged receiving, but he just brushed me off.

The class of teachers did not show up at all. I called Eraj and he told me he was accompanying his aunt to the doctor, but knew students were gone for good. I went to the dean’s office and asked, again, as to the schedule for the next few days, not even bothering to inquire as to the rest of the semester. He told me students will have a test beginning on Monday and then an exam, but since I don’t really understand the difference between the two, he tried to explain, making things even more confusing in the process. I’m expected to take part in one of the exams alongside Nigora, who hasn’t bothered to tell what day or time this is supposed to happen.

One of the teachers corralled me again as he had numerous questions on a passage about taking a vacation on a cruise liner. It must be indeed daunting to try and teach about something you have never even seen such as the ocean, a ship, first class tickets or accommodations, hitchhiking along the highway and so on. I do pity them sometimes.

I stopped at the butcher’s where I had requested a whole oxtail last week, but had been unable to pick it up by Saturday. The butcher told me he had tried calling me with no success, but had the oxtail waiting for me. He had even chopped into chunks about the same size as we do in the States. I paid 31.00 somoni or about $7.00 and couldn’t have been happier thinking of the slow simmering method I’d use to make them so tender that the meat will fall off the bones. I need a decent red wine to finish the sauce. I’ll cook it for the potluck we are planning with the staff from Caritas next week.

Hillary emailed me to cancel our dinner date for tonight when we were planning on discussion my possible trip to Moscow/Saint Petersburg. I offered to cook dinner sometime next week when I might not have any classes and spare time to go shopping at the market. Takhmina emailed me to say I had an envelope waiting for me. She’ll drop it off at the American Corner so I can pick it up from there.

Tohir called me to say he had been notified just today that he didn’t make the cut for the position as an interpreter for the ICRC, but he has an interview tomorrow with the NGO Handicap International and will let me know the outcome. Ruth called to comment on the ETM and its participants as she was wondering how some of them had made it through the interviewing process unless, of course, Tahmina conducted it in Tajik. While she didn’t begrudge them the chance to obtain additional professional development opportunities, she did feel that the benefits of this expensive conference had been lost on many of them.

April 25, 2012

More gray skies and light sprinkles as I walked to the UNESCO Building this morning wearing my resplendent silk dress that Maryam had sewn in such a hurry. Aziza was late again with the laptop so I busied myself putting together the handouts participants were to receive today and to tidy up the tables behind me. This group of teachers seemed to be up-to-date on what technology is as they had brought in laptops, digital cameras and even one camcorder not to mention the ubiquitous cell phone used to take even more photos. Since it was the last day, they were pairing up or forming groups with different people to insure they had photographs of everyone.

I went over the evaluations from the previous day and made the necessary announcements before yielding the floor to Ruth. She had made the same crappy, hard to read photocopies she had used at the American Corner even though I had offered to get better ones. The teachers could barely follow along since they could barely make out what was printed on the page. This crowd wasn’t as enthusiastic at the one at the AC and no one wanted to volunteer to lead the songs. Due to her age and weight, Ruth is not able to perform the actions the songs are requesting the students, children in this case, to do. Without a vivacious, energetic and charismatic leader, the songs fall flat. I tried them to get into doing the “Hokey Pokey” song with little better results. I distributed the booklet with children’s songs I had found online, and which Multikid had copied properly, along with the CD to accompany the songs. Hopefully, as I suggested, they could practice at home with their families before presenting the songs in the classroom so they’d feel more confident leading them.

It was then time for lunch next door as the sprinkles continued. Ruth had departed earlier to eat at the F1 Café as she distrusts the local eateries. Transportation to Gharm on Friday was confirmed and I now need to think of what we’ll be presenting there where we’ll have both teachers and students to cater to.

Once back from lunch, I had a PowerPoint presentation to remind them of the steps needed to write a proper lesson plan as they were expected to write one that incorporated the perceptual styles we had discussed and also include interactive activities similar to the ones we had engaged in. I learned from Latofat that teachers are required to write lesson plans for the entire year in the month of August thus making it a loathsome task. Some of the teachers had never received proper training on lesson planning until they went for their practicum or attended some professional development course offered by some NGO or another. I gave them a template to include the basic points of their lesson, the topic of which they had chosen from a list, and asked them to then transfer the information to flip chart paper so they could be displayed around the room as a visual gallery for everyone to peruse.

You’d have thought I’d asked them to write their dissertation in just one hour as they sat there practically paralyzed with what could be read as fear. Then came the barrage of questions about the different components of the lesson plan and what should be included or could be left out. I knew that many of them could barely read in English, but of course, their writing skills were even more dismal. Ruth offered help and I walked around too trying to nudge them to finish as quickly as possible so everyone had a chance to walk around the room and add comments and suggestions to their lesson plan. One of the best teachers in the class, in terms of fluency, used up three pages to create her lesson plan and was done very quickly while others were still writing the objective for theirs.

I needed to interrupt the lesson plan writing activity to insure they completed the evaluation for all three days of the conference. The women seemed to have advantage when it came to both reading and writing as Ruth and I had to provide them with little help, but the men were not even starting to write and instead focus on each word trying to divine its meaning without having to ask. When they were finally done and lessons were up on the walls, I asked them to write notes commenting on what was good, what could be improved or something they would add to make it better. Someone suggested that they used the post-it notes we had given them on the first day so as not to mar the plans. When I saw that the most common comment was “Good”, I interrupted to say that was a meaningless comment and not helpful to the writer in any manner.

We never got to complete the gallery walk as Tahmina came in with a box of Oxford Illustrated Dictionary to give to each participant and she first gave a short speech full of pronunciation mistakes and delivered in that flat, lifeless way she has of speaking as if she wished to be somewhere else. I was on the verge of collapsing from three days of standing on my feet for more than seven hours at a stretch and couldn’t wait to take the teachers to the new library and be done with my duties. Tahmina went on about the Fulbright program and I asked to be excused so I could get started.

Only a handful of the teachers decided to follow me and luckily we could all fit into the only elevator working at the brand new building which, although grand in design, lacks enough lighting, signage or warmth. We found the American Corner by purely guessing and saw Todjiddin and Mr. Sharipov, from Qurgonteppa and Khulob respectively, attending a workshop there for American Corner coordinators. I delivered the certificates to Bakhtyor, who wanted to know where I had been since ending the workshops in early March. He’d love to have me teach some classes there once the PedInst goes into recess for their tests. I promised to keep him informed.

I stopped to use the bathroom on my way out, but it was only a pit toilet with no toilet paper or water. I bought some flat bread to eat it with a chunk of cheese and some juice for dinner and collapsed on the sofa the minute I made it to my apartment. Elbek knocked on my door at five even though I had told him we’d not have any classes this week. I talked to him for a bit, but he realized I was practically out of it and left early.

April 24, 2012

We had another gray, cool morning for the second day of the ETM. Corrie was already there as well as Tahmina, but no Aziza with the laptop to hook up to the projector. She came in at five minutes to 9:00 and two of the teachers were late in arriving. I did my presentation on “Perceptual Styles”, but had little time to carry out the activities that went with it except for the quiz and identifying the various strategies used in the classroom. I hope to have a chance to expand on it tomorrow prior to their lesson planning session. Corrie took over to do two very successful speaking activities and then we went to lunch next door where we shared our table with one of the teachers from Gharm who is trying to arrange for our transportation there this weekend.

It was my turn again and tried two different grammar games that could be used to review specific points. They both fell flat as the teachers couldn’t understand the rules for playing “The Sentence Auction”, bidding according to whether the sentences are grammatically correct or not,  or simple board games with the instructions clearly printed at the top of the board. In fact, one of the participants wrote on the feedback form that he didn’t like the board games because they were “boring”. Corrie continued with writing activities that included a thesis statement and two supporting paragraphs. There wasn’t enough time to listen to what they had written.

All participants requested to be shown where the new national library is and where the American Corner has relocated to. I’ll be taking them there tomorrow after the closing ceremony. Ruth will be joining me as Corrie has classes tomorrow. I had to carry back all the materials I had brought in yesterday and felt extremely tired all of a sudden.

It was back to the house to prepare another presentation on lesson planning, request final evaluation forms to be printed and burn some CDs of the children’s songs Ruth will be presenting tomorrow. I also signed all the certificates so I can drop them off at the American Corner tomorrow. A most exhausting day indeed.

April 23, 2012

Despite my jittery state, I forced myself to sleep until the alarm went off. Walking into the kitchen, I then noticed that it was pouring cats and dogs outside and immediately thought of how I was going to carry all my materials, fly swatters and umbrella under such deluge. The good thing about the rain is that it makes every single leaf glisten, especially now that they are that light green color of newly budded trees. I got to the UNESCO Building exactly at 8:00 and although the door was open, there was no one there from Multikid yet. Corrie showed up a few minutes after I did and we set out to sort through the handouts and stationery items the participants were to have at their desks. Contrary to the ETM in January when stationery items were neatly arranged on the tables and handouts sorted according to the schedule of presentations, we got everything dumped into different boxes and the handouts had not been separated or even punch-holed so that the participants could just add them to their binders.

I was surprised to see Sandy and Tahmina walk in just as we were about to start our warm up. They brought in copies of the Forum magazines for the participants and Sandy gave a little speech about the importance of the ETM to send forth English teachers that could disseminate the new methods we were about show them. I presented my “What’s in a Name” introductory game and Sandy commented it had been interesting learning about the origins or meanings of their names. Thankfully, they left right after that.

I did my presentation on the importance of mentoring new teachers and gave them a few case scenarios a new teacher could face and asked to come up with a solution in their groups. This might have been a new approach for them and I don’t believe they understood they needed to advise the new teacher on ways to handle the problem as they all said things such as: “This is what I do…”. Corrie continued with speaking activities and then we went to lunch at the F1 Café.

It was my turn again with “Strategies for Teaching Vocabulary” and the PowerPoint presentation kept faltering despite Aziza’s best efforts. I decided to scrap that and just show them different ways to present vocabulary in an interactive way offering some of the Snickers bars I had as prizes. One hour time slot is too short a period to talk about the need to teach vocabulary more intensively than grammar and then show innovative ways of doing it. At least, they had fun with the games. Corrie followed me with easy writing activities using pictures and writing prompts. Before we knew it, the first day was over. I promised the participants to do a group mailing and send them all the handouts I had created as the ones provided by Multikid were of very poor quality and were not even in the proper order.

We didn’t receive the daily evaluation the participants were supposed to complete so we could have feedback. Aziza said she didn’t know anything about it. We improvised by asking them to jot down a few lines as to what they liked and what they didn’t like or couldn’t understand as Aziza mentioned that some of them were having trouble following our presentations because we spoke too fast and they, of course, spoke “British” and not American English.

I picked up what I hope is my last batch of laminated materials and bought some flat bread along the way to have it for dinner. I had no energy to go grocery shopping. So, it’s one down and two more to go.

April 22, 2012

I tried at best I could to multitask today and get as much done as possible before the storm of the ETM begins. The only thing I failed to do was go grocery shopping and my fridge only contains a few onions, potatoes and carrots along with a carton of juice and milk. I cooked the remaining eggs with the leftover salami and had that for both lunch and dinner. Muesli was good enough for breakfast and I munched on the pistachios I forgotten I had bought months ago.

Maryam came in to show me how far along she was in making my outfit for Wednesday. She complained the three meters of fabric were barely enough to make short sleeves for it and the pants would have to sit low on my waist. I couldn’t understand how someone so short as I am needs the same three meters of fabric as an average height woman and then there isn’t enough of it to go around. She made the neckline the way I wanted it and I kissed her on both cheeks to let her know how pleased I was. I appreciate her spending her Sunday on this task and will compensate her accordingly.

It was Caroline’s birthday and I posted a message on her FB page in Spanish. She responded by stating her confidence in my ability to pull off the ETM without a glitch. I emailed Peter to see if a visit to Georgia would be possible in the next couple of months, but he indicated he was really busy and had observers coming from Georgetown to judge the progress of the program he’s working in. He proposed we try to meet in Istanbul in mid-July. We’ll see what my final itinerary looks like by the end of June before making any further plans.

I was able to put the finishing touches on the CD of children’s songs we are going to copy for the participants after Ruth offers her session on that topic. I was able to get the songs in alphabetical order so it’ll be easier for them to locate individual ones. I also emailed the Dean to ask permission to skip classes on the 30 of April so I can attend the closing session at the Teachers’ Training Center as Zulekho confirmed it for me. I also managed to do one load of laundry.

Maryam knocked on my door before 8:00pm and had my outfit finished. This was unbelievable as the quality was superb and it fit like a glove. She told today that she’s been sewing since she was thirteen years old. The total cost for a creation that took her all day: 75.00 somoni or less than $16.00. I’m delighted with my choice of fabric and felt privilege to know someone who’s such an artist with a needle.

I’m going to be a jumble of nerves until I’m able to see what Multikid has done to theconference room and whether all the supplies requested, including the essential laptop and LCD projector, are there when I show up.

April 21, 2012

The air felt cooler when I got up this morning and clouds were quickly moving in to blot out the early morning light. I made my coffee and put together all the materials I needed to take with me, including the book Ruth had loaned me. Ryan confirmed that the new venue at the UNESCO Building was close to the VEFA Center and thus much closer to me than the Poytakt Hotel would have been. I ran into Ruth in front of the VEFA Center as she claimed her taxi driver didn’t know exactly where the building was and she preferred to be dropped off at a known location and wait for Corrie there. When Corrie joined us, we walked down a few more blocks and found the UNESCO building very close by and parallel to Rudaki Avenue. Manzura was waiting for us outside and showed us the very small, but serviceable room where we could accommodate the fifteen participants and three presenters while also allowing room for registration and tea service. It’s going to be a tight-squeeze in there. The coordinator, Bahadur, was very helpful and brought in one of the security guards to help us rearrange the tables into five separate work areas, a table for the laptop and LCD projector and another one for the snacks.

After Manzura left, we went over the agenda and Corrie decided she wanted to change her topics again. Since it was too late to make changes to the schedule itself, I suggested that she makes changes directly on the participants’ schedules on Monday. We don’t know what arrangements will be made for the lunch period as there are but a few places for the teachers to eat at a reasonable price nearby.

Corrie and I decided to go to the Khorbon Market directly from there and spent a dizzying day visiting one stall after another looking for the perfect piece of fabric so we both can get Tajik outfits made. I found a decent pair of sandals, the flyswatters for a game, pins to form darts on my Tajik dresses, a scouring pad and other items and we then paused to have lunch. I paid 50 dirams to use a dark and foul-smelling toilet holding my nose the whole time so as not to vomit. Paradoxically enough, there was a sink, running water and soap in this bathroom. We continued to look at fabrics as Corrie couldn’t make up her mind, but then it started to pour and the rain seeped between the pieces of tarp that cover the walkway between the two rows of vendors. I found a hot pink piece of fabric and bought a meter of white fabric to make narrow pants to go with it. I’ll definitely have my student make this outfit instead of my neighbor Maryam.

                                          The intricately-carved Tajik crib.

                                        A similar crib made for dolls.

                                                 Little girls' dresses for sale

Based on my advice, we took the #1 bus in the wrong direction and had to get off after sometime, wait at the bus stop while everybody ogled us and board another one. Poor Corrie was falling asleep the minute she got a seat and then the bus got crowded and she ceded her seat to a woman carrying a child. I got off at the Tsum Department store and dropped off the materials that needed lamination. The old guy wasn’t there and I just counted the pieces and left.

I had found a gorgeous piece of yellow fabric that might be silk with detailed embroidery at the hem and decided to make an outfit of it for the ETM closing ceremony on Wednesday when the embassy big wigs will be in attendance and group photos will be taken. I knocked on Maryam’s door and showed her the fabric. Maryam responded she was up to her ears in sewing projects and wasn’t sure she could have it done by Tuesday night. She seemed to change her mind and took my measurements and drew the neckline I wanted as I was showing her in a photograph. She insisted I stay for dinner: plov and a salad made with red cabbage, boiled eggs and garlic. I had two cups of tea while futilely trying to keep a conversation going with her husband. Nilufar informed me she had quit her job four days ago as she was not able to get up at five o’clock every morning. She’s now looking for another job. I said goodbye after eating as I could barely keep my eyes open and I still have a lot of work to do tomorrow.

Eraj called asking to come in to pick up my old camera, which I had promised him. We chatted for a while and I showed him my FB page so he can start thinking of starting his own before heading to Germany this summer. I realized that Eraj is near-sighted and badly in need of reading glasses, but he refuses to wear them for fear of ridicule. So much for Nigora’s theory that people in Tajikistan have perfect vision. Needless to say, I suspect he doesn’t read at all. The rain started back up before he left, and I went to bed exhausted.

April 20, 2012

I was glad to find that Corrie had followed through on her promise and had emailed the corrected schedule to me overnight so it could be sent to Aziza first thing in the morning. I finished sending the packet of vocabulary lists I’m putting together as a mini-booklet for the teachers and printed copies of the “Animal Habits” worksheets for the students in my two classes today. I stopped by the dean’s office to remind him I’d absent the first three days of next week and also to inquire as to the veracity of classes possibly ending next week. As usual, he didn’t know anything about the specific date when classes would be over and students go home to study for the final exams. He did say he was on his way to Khulob for a family wedding and wouldn’t return until Wednesday night. He promised to give me a call that evening and let me know. Then, as an afterthought, he added: “It’s too bad you’re always so busy; otherwise, we’d have invited you to one of our weddings.” And I said to myself: “I’ve been here for over six months and neither you nor any of the members of this institution has ever extended an invitation to me even for just a cup of tea.” I have to take that back as Mr. Boronov did have me over at his studio apartment even if it took five months for him to do so.

My second class only had eight students as a group of them had received a scholarship to travel to Estonia for an externship and had flown out early that morning. Eraj related that a group of them had accompanied the travelers to the airport and didn’t get home until the early morning. It occurred to me that with so few students and being a Friday, we could hold class in one of the roundabouts facing the street. The students were jubilant to be able to do so, but I decided to check with the dean first, who put up no obstacles. It felt great to be out in the warm air even when the students kept recognizing faces and saying hello to passersby. I even saw Jason, from Operation Mercy, go by and greeted him warmly. The students got into their role as animals to describe what their habits were like based on the habitat they occupy. It was about the perfect activity to have in the open air. We took numerous photos and one of the students offered to sew a Tajik outfit for me after I get the material tomorrow.

Corrie has agreed to go to the Khorbon Market with me after our meeting and I’m hoping to be able to buy a decent pair of sandals for the ETM along with some more fabric for at least three tunic/pants outfits. I also need a decent pair of black pants as the ones I brought no longer hug my curves the way I like them to do.

Aziza called while I was having my bowl of soup, and thinking she might have had questions regarding the materials I had sent her, I asked her to give me a chance to get home so I could have access to my computer. When I called her back, she told me the Poytakt Hotel had cancelled their contract to hold the ETM there, as they’re government owned, and decided to offer the venue to someone else. Manzura now wanted for me to join them in the search for another space suitable for the conference. I was not about to hit the pavement again and asked for transportation to do so. She said she’d get back to me, but didn’t do so. After a few hours, I called her again and she indicated Manzura was doing the search on her own and will have all three presenters look at the space tomorrow. I was also informed we now have 15 participants.

Jamshed called asking if could come by to get the conversation book I’d shown him earlier. We had coffee and talked about exploring the city together as he is rather bored at the institute and doesn’t have any close friend in the area. Per Caroline’s email, it appears that Jamshed burned his bridges to the Fulbright teacher exchange program when he failed to use the funds allocated to him to put on a local training session, a sort of pay-it-forward concept, and is now considered persona non-grata even in Qurgonteppa. When I asked him today why he had left his hometown, he just said he was bored. I need to exercise some caution here as I really don’t him from Adam.

It looks as if the ETM will be held at the UNESCO Building not too far from my house. Ruth called to confirm she was abreast of the latest developments. Eraj called and offered to accompany Corrie and me to the Khorbon Market so we aren’t overcharged for everything we buy. I don’t know how comfortable Corrie might feel browsing and trying clothes on while Eraj lurks nearby as the market doesn't offer dressing rooms.

 I finished printing the remaining vocabulary, glued the photos I’ll need to have laminated for the ETM, and put the finishing touches on the PPT. I only need one more PowerPoint presentation for Tuesday and should be sitting pretty from then on. 

April 19, 2012

A most uneventful day as I taught my two classes without any remarkable incidents except for the fact that my students could not name anything a baby might use such as a crib, cradle, diaper or a pacifier . Farzona and Oigul came to see me to let me know they wanted to reschedule our outing to Farzona’s village as her family is hosting a large group of relatives this weekend. I was glad for the reprieve as I can use every spare hour this weekend to continue to fret over details of the ETM. I had my bowl of soup and took the mini-van home.

I stopped by Jamshed’s institute to pick up what he promised were tons of materials from all four ETMs he had attended last year. His supervisor, a cocky 22 year old guy, explained to me that his criteria for hiring an English teacher at his place was the teacher’s ability to understand and use the New English Files textbook, which he had photocopied illegally and contained very poor black and white illustrations. Since Jamshed had worked with a British team while living in Qurgonteppa, he was given the job right away he claimed.

I stopped at the supermarket for juice and milk and found they had both coconuts and very tiny overly ripe avocadoes not worth buying, but I did buy a coconut planning on eating every bit of it. When I got home, I realized I had no sort of tool with which to crack a coconut open, not even the hard concrete stoop I’ve used in the past. When Elbek came in for his class, I asked him to borrow his grandfather’s hammer for the task, and watched amusedly as he, who had never seen a coconut in his life, pecked at it tentatively while I held a bowl under it to catch the water. I finally convinced him to hit the heck out of it, but to my dismay the coconut was rotten on the inside. Who knows how long it took to get to Tajikistan? And to think I paid 15.00 somoni or almost $4.00 or it.

Corrie had not answered my emails regarding her contribution to the ETM schedule or sent the handouts that would accompany them. I was about to pull my hair out as I did call her two days ago to remind her. She did respond later on only to confirm my worst fear: She hadn’t done anything about it and would be sending the materials late tonight as the deadline for printing them is tomorrow morning.

Ruth called to confirm she got the signed certificates from the embassy and will deliver them to me on Saturday. One more thing off my “To Do List”. 

April 18, 2012

I’ve noticed the striking difference in the way my male and female students look now that they have shed their winter clothes. While the women look like proud peacocks out strutting in their multicolor Tajik dresses and elaborate jewelry, the men, forced to shuck off their turtleneck sweaters, vests and jackets, look like scrawny chickens in their shirt sleeves and skinny ties. I really don’t know how the women can afford these dresses as some cost upwards of $100.00 depending on how much beading, embroidery or fabric it entails. I simply ask them to pose for me whenever another beautiful creation walks into my classroom.

I had another sparsely attended early morning class with only seven students in attendance. Even the class monitor, responsible for taken attendance, was absent. The few students present hadn’t done the homework assignment except for one, Zohir, who’s been attending both of the interpreter’s classes to maximize his exposure to spoken English before I’m out of here. We finished the “What do I do with it?” worksheet and started working on colors.

The teachers’ group was one boisterous crowd today. Eraj was absent along with a few more of them. I had them complete the “Give an Example” worksheet and then we did the synonym bingo one. No one got bingo as they could not come up with the words with a similar meaning except for Nazirbeck who got five right. The students acknowledged they are very weak in vocabulary and even when given an extensive list of words and their synonyms, they have no frame of reference to peg them to. The pretty student from Uzbekistan that I have photographed on several occasions begged me to bring her prints of her photos as she indicated that lectures will be over on April 25 and the students will go home to prepare for their exams.

I had my bowl of soup and walked to the American Councils to use their bathroom and say hello to Rebecca. She was in this time and we chatted for a while about the educational system in Tajikistan and the lack of information as to when things were supposed to happen. I then walked over to Caritas to read for a while before our session. Their supervisor walked in and told me how grateful they were for the lessons as they could see how beneficial they were. I told her I was also benefiting since they were able to explain things about Tajikistan I had no one else to ask.

Takhmina told me she was really busy once again and would be skipping the session. The rest of the group worked on the list of eponyms and then we went back to the previous assignment on “Dilemmas”. We only covered two topics before we embarked on a conversation regarding the imposition by the government on the use of new Tajik words to substitute for words that came from either the Persian or Russian language. Nigina had complained she was barely able to read a Tajik newspaper as she could not understand the language being used there. A lively discussion then ensued about corruption and identification documents required for a variety of purposes. I related the anecdote of our driver to Khulob who was pulled over by the police at least three times during the trip and each time he inserted a one somoni note in his passport and gave it to the police officer to allow him to continue. Khurshed said these officers can stop upwards of 1000 drivers a day in order to make ends meet since their salaries are so low.

I had no idea that Tajik people are required to obtain both a national and an international passport. In the national one, they must record their current address, blood type, date of marriage, birth of any children and any other significant data. If someone moves, they must take their passport to one office to have it recorded that they no longer live there and then to another one to have the current address registered. There is no national identification card, but the national passport must be update at 18, 25 and 45 so a current photo is available to the authorities. I showed them my embassy badge and the note in Tajik and English I could present in case of an emergency and they seemed fascinated by it. Employees at Caritas are not issued a badge by the NGO, but must obtain one from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and pay for it. I notified the group there would be no class next week due to my participation in the ETM.

I took a break from typing PowerPoint presentations and creating handouts to walk to Rudaki and the get the photos printed as we had a sultry evening that invited one to walk. Jamshed called me as I was getting there and we met in front of the photo finishing place. Since the Segafredo Café was right across the street, we walked there for an ice cream and water, but all the tables outside were occupied with foreigners having dinner and drinks and I refused to go inside where smoking is allowed. We grabbed two bottles of water and sat on two empty chairs on the terrace. Jamshed is still waiting for confirmation from the embassy as to whether he’s made the cut for the Fulbright teacher exchange program. We walked back to my place stopping along the way at the language institute where he now works, a former residence partitioned into a warren of classrooms that at least offer a TV and Internet access. He makes 1000.00 somoni a month or a little more than $250.00 including access to a tiny bedroom. I offered to give him some of my books and resources before leaving the country.

April 17, 2012

Another pristine morning with the mountains showing a light dusting of snow and looking closer than ever. I need to make an effort to join one of the Sunday hikes when a group of ex-pats walk up the slopes that skirt the mountains around the city. At the gates to the PedInst I noticed once again what appeared to be a reception committee made up of professors who apparently stand there making sure students are not violating the dress code. My interpreter group had been tasked with putting on a fashion show in order to demonstrate their ability to describe clothing and jewelry, but as usual, few of them had bothered to look at the handout with the vocabulary for this task. I asked them to use me as a model first so that they could later on describe what their partners were wearing. I was simply shocked to learn that in four years at the PedInst, they had never learned the names of the different fingers of the hand and couldn’t say on what finger I wore a ring. And so another teachable moment arose. They were unable to describe fabric, styles or even colors accurately.

The teacher group did relatively well with the list of homophones although once again few had bothered to look at the handout provided much less translated the more obscure terms contained in it. We moved on to play board games with different speaking abilities and grammar points and it was plain mayhem as these students are not used to be given free reign and thus are not able to restrain themselves and keep their voices low when arguing with their classmates. I have to admit that I’d rather have this situation that the dead silence I’ve observed in the other classrooms.

As I was leaving, Mr. Sadat stopped me to ask me how he could delete the speaking dictionary program I’d given him as it was not working properly and he wanted to reinstall it. My stomach was growling by then and I resented having to go into his classroom, wait to have him power up his computer and then go through the entire process of removing the program. Mr. Boronov promised to meet with me after the ETM to make up the three hours of professional development he’s missing in order to receive his certificate.

I got to the soup place and the attendant beamed at me and showed me I had left my travel mug there the day before. I was so happy he had put it away for me since I had emailed Takhmina thinking I’d left it at Caritas. The soup was still a bit too salty for my taste, but I tried to eat as much as possible.

Aziza emailed me requesting editing for one of her reports. My Internet connection is woefully slow these days and will not allow me to download the document, so I declined the request for now. The teacher in need of editing showed up one and half later than we agreed to meet and could not find my apartment while I was guiding him on the telephone thus forcing me to go downstairs to find him. He indicated he teaches graduate students at the PedInst and wants to publish his article in the newsletter or journal the institution publishes every three months. I did not want to alter the document too much so I just pointed out a number of sentences that were illogical and errors in punctuation and capitalization to which he’d reply: “You’re right. I forgot.”

Jamshed, who had attended the ETM in January representing Qurgonteppa, called to say he had found a job in Dushanbe and wanted to get together with me soon. He was in fact the person who gave my number to a guy who had called last night to inquire if I wanted to teach Spanish. I referred him to Dagmara as I wasn’t interested. Munisa called to claim she had been hospitalized all these days, something I don’t believe and thus I didn’t even inquire as to the nature of her illness, and wanted another appointment to go over her essay for the Fulbright scholarship. I told her I’ll be busy until the end of the ETM.

April 16, 2012

I slept surprisingly well and was up at 5:30am to start preparing for my four classes. I was ambushed in the hallway by Mr. Hasan who once again had many questions about the passage he was scheduled to teach today. The interpreter group had about half of the students present. The dean came in to speak to them about some housekeeping detail or another and I took advantage of the occasion to thank him for allowing Eraj to skip classes on Saturday and shepherd us to Khulob. I told him we had been treated like royalty, but he evidently didn’t understand the term and I rephrased it by saying “very nicely”. Few of them brought their homework assignment back, nothing unusual there, and we moved on to the task of assigning vocabulary word by their origins. I got the same quizzical look when it came to “man’s beard” or “hair” as the students couldn’t conceive that these objects belong to a human being and thus an animal. One of the students emphatically said he was not an animal.

The second interpreter group had about ten students and we did “Difficult Words” playing with homophones and the difference in meaning. Afterwards, we had a dictation exercise classifying word according to whether they were people, places or things. For the last one, they needed to be spelled correctly and capitalization of the proper names was essential. I had the students swap papers and correct each other’s mistakes. No one got all the names or categories correctly. Their ignorance of people and places outside of Central Asia is simply appalling.

The teacher group had only eight student and Eraj came in just dragging. I took it upon myself to allow him to go early as he teaches in the afternoon and I knew how drained he must have been with all the running around he had done for us between Saturday and Sunday. The rest of the group was given the task of identifying eponyms, something they had never even heard of and I had to do it alongside so as to complete it.I wonder if Tajik students also suffer from our "spring fever" mood and don't want to come to classes simply because the weather is too nice to stay indoors.

Mr. Boronov and Sadat stopped me on the way out to ask for more help with their teaching load. I was hungry and tired and begged to be allowed to go for my bowl of soup promising to help them out after the ETM is over. My lagman soup was overly salty and plain unpalatable, so I just dunk some pieces of the fatir bread in the broth and ate as much of the bread as I could before giving up on it. I don’t even know the word for “salty” in Tajik, so I couldn’t complain.

The staff at Caritas was a welcoming as usual except for Takhmina who was out of the office temporarily. I made myself a cup of instant coffee while chatting with Khurshed. We did the analogies, “Expressing our moods” and “Difficult Words” worksheets and I left the one on eponyms as homework for Wednesday. The walk to the mini-van was pure pleasure as the weather could not have been more gorgeous and the view of the mountains more striking. I had a big smile on my face the whole time and felt so good that I even stopped at Maryam’s apartment to give her a report on my doings and let her know that I’d need a couple more outfits made now that the warm weather was upon us. I noticed that when the temperatures were in the mid-80s last week, my regular pants felt suffocating. I’d like to have a few more loose tunic and pants outfits made to allow me to get ready in the morning without giving it any thought.

I anxiously checked my email the minute I got home to see what Aziza and Manzura had thought about my plans for the ETM. There wasn’t even an acknowledgment from either one of them. I called Aziza and she acknowledged receiving the emails while informing me that Manzura was away in Moscow and would be gone until Saturday. Evidently, no one at the embassy or Multikid is really concerned about the conference and is just me who feels any trepidation as to its successful delivery. Ruth called to say she had done her own printing of the handouts for her session on children’ songs. Takmina informed me the PedInst’s certificates had been signed and were ready for pick up. Perhaps Ruth will be able to pick them up for me when she goes there this week.

A teacher from the PedInst had taken the initiative to send me the draft of an article for publication he’d like for me to edit for him. I told him I’d have to sit down and talk to him about it before doing anything with a document that is almost illogical in its flow. He called this afternoon and practically dictated he was going to meet with me tomorrow at four or five in the afternoon. This is a college professor who obviously knows nothing about pragmatics and how the person asking for a favor does not impose the conditions for the delivery of said favor. I compromised by insisting the meeting would need to take place at my flat since I’m really busy and cannot take time off to have coffee or tea at some café. The nerve!

April 15, 2012

I was up at my customary 6:00am and made a beeline for the kitchen hoping to start brewing my coffee while brushing my teeth; however, the stainless steel Italian coffeemaker I had entrusted to Eraj’s mother was nowhere to be seen. I searched all the rooms that were open just in case she had placed it in one of them, but to no avail. I brushed my teeth and resigned myself to waiting until one of the women got up, which in this case was Eraj’s wife, and through a bit of mime I was able to ask for the pot. I used the travel mug Caroline had left me to drink it while sitting on the outdoor tapchon and enjoying the early morning sun. Life can have perfect moments like that. I even heard a rooster crowing somewhere in the neighborhood, but otherwise there was complete silence.

Eraj was up next and he seemed to have slept in his clothes as they looked all rumpled. His grandmother and nieces came out later as well as his uncle and brother who live nearby. I took a walk along the different beds set out for vegetables and herbs. Eraj mentioned that one of them could be mashed into a liquid with which to paint one’s eyebrows to make them thick and dark. The grandmother set out to demonstrate it by painting her great-granddaughter’s eyebrows with the green liquid and then did mine. Corrie, who was up by this time, was next. I’m not sure it really had the intended effect or it might require sometime to do it, but I plan to get the seeds for my mom as I know her eyebrows are looking almost gone by now.

It was time for breakfast and we had fried eggs, flat bread, juices and tea along with more fresh fruit which Eraj’s wife dutifully kept peeling and slicing even though we told her there was enough food on the table already. Off we went to the botanical gardens which looked simply desolate as they don’t charge for admission and thus must operate on the meager subsidy provided by the government. There are twenty employees, but no discernible pattern to the garden, no signs to guide the public or much in bloom at this time. The director answered our question and was gracious enough to cut several spikes from the lilac shrub when I kept admiring it. Once in the car, the bloom gave off a powerful perfume and I decided to present it to Eraj’s mother. She had cooked palmeni and offered them to us. I sampled one and turned down the rest.

Off again to visit what the people of Khulob call a “castle”, a mere monument with a museum next door. Eraj tried to avoid paying the entrance fee by having a relative call the harassed clerk and obligate her to allow us in for free. I refused such manipulation and lack of scruples as the clerk was adamant we needed to pay to support the institution and couldn’t agree more with her. The total for all five of us was only 21.00 somoni or a little more than $5.00. Corrie and I shared the expense and for such grand sum, we were entitled to the services of a guide and he did a splendid job of explaining the different pottery, textiles, musical instruments and fauna indigenous to the Khulob area.

We went back to the house for a light lunch and were served soup into which the palmeni and mantu of the previous day had been added. No seasonings were added to this soup either. I added tea to my travel mug so as to have something to drink along the way and said goodbye to everyone as they all held their hands over their heart and wished that we return soon. We took some lovely shots of Eraj’s daughter and promised to send the prints with Daler.

On the way out of the city, we stopped at a site where the city originally started and which has been reconstructed to a certain extent, but it was closed. There wasn’t a single tree in the huge plaza and the sun was beating down on it implacably. I mentioned to Eraj that this historical site could be a great attraction if the government were to add trees, some shading, fountains, benches and proper signs instead of making it look so forlorn and inhospitable. I offered to draft a letter to its administrator if he found a way to get it to him. Eraj walked across the street to the museum, also closed, and got the proper name. Daler promised to deliver the letter once he knew where to take it. Corrie remained mum the whole time.

Eraj loves to sing and dance and one of his uncle played some lovely music on his sitar and accordion the night before. We listened to a CD of the singer who performed at his wedding along the way while he sang along and showed Corrie how to snap her fingers to keep the beat. When he asked why I wasn’t dancing on my seat, I told him we dance with our hips, pointing to that part of my body, and that was difficult to do in a small car. I promised to dance Latin music for him at some point. He doesn’t have a digital camera and I decided to give him my old one as he’s traveling to Germany this summer and would like to record his first travels outside of Tajikistan. I also need to think of a suitable present for both his mother and his wife. His mother is only 47, but she looked like she could be my mother. His grandmother had eleven kids and they all reached maturity. She has over forty grandkids and five great grandkids. His mother packed some bread and candy for us to take. I found out that his dad works in Russia to support the family and he lives in Dushanbe with one of his uncles.

The return trip was almost as beautiful although there were some clouds in the horizon. Eraj helped me upstairs with my bags and Corrie effusively thanked me for inviting her to come along during such a pleasant trip. I immediately fired up my computer and set out to send the first of the many emails to Aziza to complete all the requirements for the ETM conference beginning a week from tomorrow. It was great weekend and I was beyond happy.