April 12, 2012

Another gorgeous morning that makes you want to thank whoever was responsible for so much beauty around us while slightly resenting having to spend it inside a dreary building. My students were busily working on a task, using their cell phones to check on the meaning of words as they still refuse to bring a dictionary to class, when a group of four men led by a burly guy in a light gray suit barged into my classroom, and without saying “Hello”, “Good morning” or even “Excuse me”, grabbed the cell phone of the student closest to him. I tried to get his attention to let him know I had allowed the students to use it, but he didn’t even look my way, but decided nonetheless to allow him to keep it. I was so enraged by the violation of my space and the rude behavior of these guys, that the students said worked for the administration, that I could hardly speak. I did let them know that such actions would not be acceptable in any classroom in the United States.

The group of teachers told me they had tried to complain, individually, to the dean about the excessive amount of homework they are given every day and could not even get an appointment to come into the office. I told them there was strength in numbers and they needed to present a unified front before securing an appointment, and in the event that no meeting could be secured, should produce their own signs and picket the university chanting all along “No more Homework”. They almost fell on the floor laughing at the impossibility of ever managing such action, but I hope that maybe a small seed has been planted and changes will take place eventually.

                                   With one of my pretty students from Turkmenistan.

I had brought my portable hard drive along to share the New English Files’ CDs with Pariso, who had called me the night before to remind me, but needed to use the bathroom before I could do anything else. The old dean for the German faculty was in the hallway and I asked him if I could use the toilet and he simply gestured for me to go outside, just like any other student, and use the pestilent squat toilet with no door available to them. As the saying goes, if looks could kill, he’d have been buried just about now.

I made my way to the American Councils and ran into Pariso and I let her know how pissed off I was about being treated like a second class citizen here too. She alleged to have spoken to the dean of my department to get me a key and he had promised to do so, but nothing came of it. I told her I’d return in a while. Rebecca was not in her office and then I remembered that the embassy was holding the grand opening of the American Corner at the spanking new national library. I had chosen not to attend so I’d not be bored by the lackluster speeches by the suits. I used the bathroom and left right away.

Pariso was having her students read a piece of text in Russian and then in English and kept asking them: “But you do understand, right? It’s very easy once you understand it.” I had no idea what they were supposed to understand and doubt very much they did either. I quickly transferred the files from my hard drive to her desktop and then she had the gall of acknowledging she already had these files and was looking for something called “multimedia”. I was beyond livid and told her I had no idea what that was. She mumbled something about “water pollution”. She had already asked me to help her navigate the Fulbright website so she could apply for the teacher exchange program because she “needs” to go to the States. The first requirement for this program is that the applicant already has three years of experience as a professional teacher. Since I knew she had graduated in 2010, I pointed out that she certainly didn’t meet this requirement to which she retorted she had been allowed to teach before she graduated. I asked her to check with Tahmina at the embassy before proceeding as I didn’t think she would qualify. In addition, she had not realized she’d need to take the TOEFL, something for which she is woefully unprepared.

I had my bowl of soup, ran into Nigora as I was leaving and heard about her daily trips to the gynecologist for injections that can make her get pregnant. I have no clue what in the world they could be putting into her body and had no desire to find out. I walked to Caritas earlier than usual and mentioned the change in schedule to Tahmina and my disappointing morning. She made me a cup of coffee and reassured me the group was willing to shift their schedule to whatever suited me. Moreover, they offered me to come into their offices whenever I had time in my hands so I could use the Internet or just a table to work. They have really become like a family to me. I mentioned to Khurshed that I love the small, seedless cucumber grown here and was wondering if I could take some seeds home. He immediately told me he was going to the bank after our conversation class and would be more than happy to take me to the place where they sell seeds for the farmers and then on to the place where I could get oxtails.

Our topic was “Dilemmas” and we never got the end as the conversations were so intense. The seed place only sold huge quantities and the oxtail place had none, but asked me to come in the morning for some. The driver dropped me off at my place and I was so very, very happy.

I had begun to wonder if my landlady had forgotten to collect the rent; however, she called to say her husband would be stopping by to get it. I prepared a receipt for him to sign.