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.