May 1, 2012

It was such a relief not to be awakened by my alarm and to just get up whenever my body dictated. I puttered around, updated my blog and cleared up some of the clutter from my apartment before calling my counterpart, Nigora, to find out if I needed to report to the PedInst tomorrow. She informed she was in the hospital, as she finally succeeded in getting pregnant, but now had some complications and the doctor had ordered her to stay in the hospital for the next eight days. When I asked her who would take her place, she said she didn’t know and obviously didn’t care as she had bigger problems to worry about. She did advise me to call the Dean to find out.

I had Corrie’s rhubarb crisp for breakfast and made a lame attempt to start compiling my latest expense report, a task I simply loathe. I didn’t get very far before Zoir called to say he wanted to stop by with some questions. He had his usual intense, zeroed in concentration that puts me off so much as I feel this guy never relaxes. The question as the same one we have pondered to death in the past: Can I obtain a visa for him so he can go to the United States? I offered the same answer and he brightened up at the possibility of finding an American woman here that would be willing to marry him, for free of course, and then take him there. He asked about Corrie and I told him she’d not be interested as she is looking for a Christian man, not a Muslim. He innocently asked if I knew of any Muslim American women here in Dushanbe I could introduce him to. Nope, I answered. It then occurred to me that Amin, in Qurgonteppa, had won the visa lottery and he could probably apply for that too. I promised to look into that possibility as most likely he’d need to apply online.

I had made arrangements to meet with Corrie in the afternoon so we could share materials from our respective computers and then go to the Chinese restaurant near her house as I was sick of eating my mung bean soup by now. As luck would have it, the Chinese place was close probably due to the holiday, but Corrie had made lentil soup and went about preparing a salad and served me flat bread with it. I ate ravenously and was even a bit embarrassed at finishing the meal almost by myself.

Corrie’s roommate came in as I was about to leave and mentioned in passing that she was a Zumba instructor and showed me all the CDs and DVDs her membership fee of $30.00 per month affords her. She invited me to a class she’ll have this Thursday afternoon. I hope to see her in action even though she acknowledged her training had been minimal, an 8-hour class only, and the rest she had learned through watching the instructional DVDs. The two of them are planning a party to celebrate Cinco de Mayo and would love to have me present to give salsa lessons, not exactly something Mexican, but if the plans to go away for the weekend with Ryan fizzle, then I promised to attend the event.

When I get into one of the mini-vans, I usually try to bogard my way into the front seat to avoid the contortions needed to be able to get in and out of the narrow confines of the rest of the vehicle. I have plenty of hematomas on my buttocks and thighs as evidence of my collision with unyielding seats and doors that I hope will go away after a few more months. This time, the front seat next to the driver was empty and I was more than glad that it was so for I was carrying my laptop and the weight of it would have made it a bit tricky to maneuver the back seat. I was immediately put off by the fact that paunchy driver was smoking next to me and even with his window open the odor was making me gag. I rolled down my window and he gave me quizzical look, but continued puffing until the end of his thin cigarette. The nerve!