April 4, 2012

I made my way up the hill to drop off a bag full of plastic and glass bottles as Rebecca had told me that if I left it near the trash bin, the female cleaning crew would take them and resell them somewhere as there is no organized recycling program in Dushanbe. The women were at the top of the hill removing debris around the ditches and gladly took the bag from me when I showed them the content. When I got the PedInst, I dropped the bag with the teaching materials I planned to give away and tried out the CD with Bob Marley’s songs I wanted for them to sample. The morning class went well until the dean came in to tell me my schedule was going to be changed once again as some classes needed additional hours of instruction before they could graduate. He sent Eraj to copy the schedule from his office. He’d like for me to teach three classes of 80 minute duration non-stop most days, but then softened his stance and indicated that I should do what felt comfortable for me.

I walked to the copy place for my handouts, the usual plov lunch next door, and walked back enjoying the sunshine on my face and the parade of colorfully dressed Tajik women walking past me. I even got a group of school girls to pose for me. The PedInst teachers were anxiously waiting for the session to start so they could get their hands on some of the materials. I really felt to have to handle the situation in the manner, but I didn’t want to play favorites either and thought that by displaying all the books, CDs and DVDs on the table and allowing them to get at least one, on a first come, first served basis, was the only way to go. When I was done displaying the items, they rushed in, toppled chairs and almost collided with each other. Some teachers took three items instead of one and I had to take them back from them. To say that it was undignified and childish is to put it mildly, but speaks volume about the scarcity of such materials here.

I tried to make the last session one about humor and how being funny in the classroom doesn’t detract from the goal of teaching a language or takes away authority from the teachers. We covered the answers to the slang questionnaire I had given them as homework, and which many of them didn’t bother to do or bring back, along with a short demonstration of body language through the use of gestures. They didn’t know any of them and it might be a good idea to do another session just on that topic instead of syntax as one of them had requested. I also played Bob Marley’s “I Shot the Sheriff” and spoke a little about Jamaican Patois, dreadlocks and the Rastafarian movement, none of which they had ever heard about.

When it was time to end the session, the dean felt obligated to give a short speech and to indicate how grateful they all were, insincerely I felt, for showing them how classes could be conducted in a more interactive manner and for sharing the materials with them. Other teachers came by individually, either to inquire as to when they could expect their certificates, or to thank me for the session. I simply felt relieved that it was over as I had had to put a lot effort into those sessions as there nothing more nerve racking that displaying your knowledge for colleagues that could criticize you at will.

I went home to take a nap and was awaken by the telephone ringing. It was Theo, the Dutch VSO volunteer Sadat had brought to the first professional development session, and he wanted to get together in the evening for a drink at one of the open air restaurants across from the Opera Ballet Theater that are in business again. We agreed to do so at 6:30pm. As I was waiting for Theo, another guy that looked like it could be him, kept pacing in front of me and I asked him if he was Theo. Turned out he was an American from Massachusetts, also waiting for friends, he immediately placed my accent as Dominican as his hometown is close to Lawrence, MA where William Lantigua, another Dominican, is the first mayor of that city. He told me Lantigua was almost indicted for corruption and other charges and almost lost his post. Ron then told me he’s here doing police training and works with Nigina as well.

When Theo arrived, the three of us talked for a little bit and then said goodbye to Ron to find an empty table away from the smoky barbecue grills where the shish kebabs were being cooked. I ordered a full stein of beer and just a salad as the other choice was only meat. It was a fabulous night to be outdoors with lots of families with small children strolling around and women displaying their most outrageous outfits. Theo said he’d be here until next October writing the curriculum for a tourism program at the private university where he works. His salary as a VSO volunteer is slightly lower than ours as their housing cost is covered upfront.

Over our beers and salads, we commiserated about our institutions and the gargantuan task ahead of us in trying to get our students to become fluent in English by the end of June. He also confided that contrary to Mrs. Sadat’s statement to me that he was under contract to be an interpreter for the VSO volunteers, he was only called when needed and was paid by the hour. Granted, what VSO pays him is a lot more than what he gets at the PedInst. Oh, as a matter of fact, the dean had made a great deal of a display in front of the teachers by bringing in my monthly “salary” of 128.00 somoni or $26.00 while the session was on.