June 26, 2012

I had received a call from Tahmina, at the embassy, to remind me that Nigora and I were scheduled to attend the closing ceremony for another summer camp nearby at a place called Ghonchi. We were to depart immediately after breakfast as Nigora had been able to arrange to have her husband, the local banker, to take us there. Gulruhsor came along too and we rode in a brand new Toyota Land Cruiser with the windows down as the temperature was still cool early in the morning. We were greeted like dignitaries with a receiving line and much bowing from teachers and students. The director of the program, Ms. Sattorova, had the usual spread of food waiting for us in her office and as soon as the local bigwigs gathered there, the students put on a show that included singing both American and Tajik traditional songs, telling jokes and performing role plays. All of this took place in the tiny courtyard under the sun while the visitors took refuge under the roofed area of the building.

I was truly impressed with the level of English of the students, their numerous posters on a variety of subjects, and their eagerness to demonstrate what they had learned in the past ten months. At the end of the performance, there were the obligatory speeches from the local head of government, the director of the program and myself all to the effect of being extremely grateful to the United States for providing such an opportunity for the students to increase their fluency in English, strengthen their leadership skills and form lasting friendships. We were treated to an early lunch consisting of cold cuts, salads, shorbot soup and fresh watermelon, which I ate until I could eat no more. As we were preparing to leave, the director informed us they were cooking plov for us yet, but Nigora apologized profusely and insisted we needed to go.

Clouds were gathering in the horizon as we approached the camp and rain soon started to fall in huge drops while the wind picked up very quickly. We barely made into our rooms when the power went out and the downpour started. Two of the teachers came to my room to tell me they were scared of both thunder and lightning and didn’t like to be alone when they were happening. Although I told them I had eaten enough for the day, I was obligated to accompany them to lunch as they claimed it was part of our routine now. After the requisite soup, the server brought something I never had had before: a combination of rice with vegetables and flecks of beef that tasted quite good and which I ate even though I wasn’t the least bit hungry. Apparently, this is a dish only served in this part of the country.

We had switched the sessions and now it was time for our English training; therefore, we set out for the makeshift classroom we had and tried to regroup the students according to the previous set up, but some of them had gone home for some reason and we had to form new ones. They were given flip chart paper and told to write a summary about their reading. One of the teachers had told she had sat with her group the night before discussing the reading, going over the vocabulary and practicing the writing of their summary.

Once finished with that task, the students did a gallery walk to determine which one they liked best, but it turned into a popularity contest with the students voting for their best friends’ summary regardless of its merit. Lesson learned for sure. I had them play the game “Can you help me?”, which they thoroughly  enjoyed, followed by “Tic, Tac Toe” with the topic of Countries, Languages and Nationalities and finally, we took the group outside to engage in the “Speedy Interview” game whereby they formed two lines and interviewed each other with questions handed out to them. Even the teachers were enthusiastic about this one commenting on how it gave the girls a chance to talk to all the boys without any negative repercussion to their reputation.

It back to the dining room for dinner with the usual buttermilk in individual glasses, soup and then buckwheat and pasta crowned by some tough chunks of beef. I had the soup, turned down the buttermilk and inspected the main course, but knowing there was no sauce of any kind to give flavor to the pasta or the buckwheat, I just passed and told the rest of the group that I wasn’t hungry while planning all along to eat the piece of cake I still had from Gulruhsor’s birthday.

After dinner, I was conscripted into visiting a nearby monument to Lenin even though all I wanted to do was go to bed early. The entire group was going, so I felt bad about not participating and with threatening skies about us and the light of day slipping away, we set out for the hill where 365 or 389 steps separated me from the giant bust of the Soviet hero. The two teachers present did not attempt the climb and just waited at the base for the rest of us. Students, especially the female ones, grabbed their chance to hold my arms or hands and talk to me without the presence of their teachers to hamper their efforts. We took tons of photos at the top and had to go down really fast as rain started to fall on us again. It was a pleasant outing and a great opportunity for them to talk to me individually. When I told one of them that I liked flowers, she immediately left the group, picked a pale lilac rose and brought it to me. How sweet!