June 12, 2012

I was up at my usual six AM as Ryan’s bedroom window faces the street and the busy traffic right outside the Gynecological Hospital picks up just about then. I got to work on doing the questions and summary about the topic Eraj needed to develop for his final exam and emailed it him. Ryan got up at seven and while drinking his coffee expounded on the system the Philippines had created to provide a universal health care system. Manzura texted me to confirm I’d be visiting her village after I went to the embassy and then texted again an hour later to say she was already waiting for me at the Sadbarg Market.

I decided to go with her first and then stop by the embassy. We met at the Green Market and bought some fruit to add to the luncheon she was preparing for me. We got into a mini-van and then a taxi which took us directly to her doorstep. The road was awful, full of potholes and dusty, and the village looked desolate and unattractive. Her house is still under construction as her father is working on another addition to the compound. Manzura commented that most houses around hers were occupied by relatives and that she didn’t like living there because it was too far from Dushanbe and its inhabitants too traditional. Her sister-in-law, who is only twenty and just got married, last October, greeted us at the door and immediately set out to bring us food of one kind or another. I was starving and didn’t turn down the fresh flat bread and homemade apple juice that she offered me. Her husband is in fact a first cousin, and Manzura acknowledged they were aware of the possible consequences of birth defects to any future offspring. Manzura’s brother lives in Russia and the poor wife has nothing to do all day, but a few household chores. I saw staring at the floor for quite some time.

                                                     The new bride

 Her family lived just two doors down and she asked me to accompany her to meet her mother, sister and sister-in-law who were busy baking bread for the week. The kitchen contained three tandoor ovens and was so full of smoke it was difficult to breathe. I got the usual questions about my name, marital status, number of children and age to then get the quizzical look of “She can’t possibly be 57!” We took back a round, fluffy piece of flat bread and fresh Sakharov was prepared on the spot. I watched carefully as she poured some hot water on the tabac plate, added chaka and stirred it a bit, and then added what we might consider Tajik fresh salsa, the flat bread torn into pieces and then more salsa on top. I was asked to eat it with my hands and water was provided to wash them. The grandmother and I made mincemeat of the dish in no time at all. It was delicious and made me wonder how come I had never eaten this particular dish before. Then came the lagman soup and fresh fruit for dessert.

                                           The finished shakarov

Manzura thought I was going to spend all day at her house, but I reminded her I needed to be at the embassy before four, so her plans to cook plov for me had to be scrapped. I got to watch the video of her brother’s wedding and to ask tons of questions about the etiquette involved. They had held the wedding at their house; rented the bride’s dress and made the bouquet themselves while also decorating the car that drove the couple to the wedding registry. Manzura had invited her English teacher to come and meet me and she explained some of the procedures going on while telling me that a wedding on that scale could cost around $400.00.

The sister-in-law invited me to see her room, a small, dark and overstuffed place with a bedroom set that took up every inch of space and a pile of korpachas reaching the ceiling. She insisted on placing all the hats she had worn for her wedding on my head and taking a photo of it along with a sleeveless ankle-length vest with much embroidery along the openings. As I was about to leave, Manzura presented me with a piece of atlas material and the embroidery trim to go on the pants’ hem. I felt embarrassed for I had brought nothing for them, but the kilo of cherries we had purchased at the market, but she insisted it was their tradition to offer a present to guests that visited the village for the first time. She accompanied back to the Sadbarg market where I was able to catch a shared taxi to the embassy.

I had two pieces of mail from Stephanie waiting for me along with the Benadryl Crysta had left for me. Tahmina wanted to know about my plans for Istaravshan and Khorog and I took the opportunity to ask her if funding could be found for my transportation to Khorog since I now knew that Nancy and David were getting theirs covered by the embassy. She asked me to wait for Sandy, who was in a meeting, and that most likely I’d get approved for it. I cashed a check and got Tahmina to print my flight information along with Valerie’s message with instructions upon my arrival.

Sandy and I reviewed what I had done so far and asked me to represent the embassy at the closing ceremony for the Istaravshan camp while recommending that I travel to Khorog by road as the plane ride could be as scary as my ride through the pass had been. She agreed that my travel expenses should also be funded and confirmed it before I left the office. I was one happy camper.

I came to Ryan’s flat to find the same mess in the kitchen I had left as apparently his cleaning lady hadn’t shown up, if there’s really one. I had to scour the stove, counter and tile backdrop as they were all greasy and full of dust. It took me good hour to do the entire kitchen, but then I needed to earn my keep anyway. Ryan set up a tapchon outside and entertained the kids in the meantime.

Corrie called to say she was back from Khujand and wondering if we could do dinner tonight, but I still had to pack for tomorrow’s flight and didn’t think it’d work. She also wondered if I could get my trip to Almity written off as part of my PAA if Valerie and I got to do the presentation at the American Corner. I told her I wasn’t concerned about it and just wanted a short vacation where I could drink decent coffee and have some fabulous food for a change. We’ll try to meet next week before my departure for Khujand.