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.