June 28, 2012

I woke up to a gorgeous morning, took a simulacrum of a shower, as very little water was delivered through the shower head, and joined Bakhtyor on the way to the canteen. We had some kind of porridge and none of the teachers could tell what it made from and then I saw the other diners being given the two cold boiled eggs and a hot dog that I’ve come to detest. I ate two bowls of the porridge, some flat bread I’d brought with me and tea and begged to be excused from the table just as the server brought in some cold crepes the teachers referred to as omelets. There was no cream, no filling or syrup to eat these with and I turned them down to the look of horror on everyone’s face.

I went next door to start assembling my materials for the day-long activities, but couldn’t gain any momentum as there were not sufficient chairs for everyone until breakfast was done and over with. Firuza approached me to let me some of the students wanted to scrap the English classes altogether so they could work on the talent show they would be presenting that evening. I totally disagreed reminding her that the purpose of the camp was to strengthen their fluency level and only agreed to cancel the afternoon session entirely so they could have an additional three hours for rehearsal. I then had a great deal of difficulty in getting the students to pair up according to the cards they had been given and work with their shoulder partner. The girls made faces at the thought of working side-by-side with a boy, and I had to Firuza and the other two teachers to intervene to get the issue settled.

It was hard work to make it to 12:30pm when I was too exhausted to even consider another activity and we allowed the students extra time to memorize poems, rehearse dance moves and plan their outfits for a fashion show. I shared the remaining handouts with the three teachers present as the fourth one had not shown up at all for two days. I took my bag back to my room and was quickly joined by Nigora and Parvina who wanted to let me know how much they had learned from me and how much they wished to keep in touch in the future even if I never set foot in Tajikistan again. Although they currently have no Internet access, both of them wanted to have an email account to keep in touch when they do visit Khujand. I opened one for both of them and they were delighted.

We had kichiri, the soupy rice dish we Dominicans might call an “asopao”, for lunch after the customary soup, and I mentioned to the group that I had never eaten so much soup in my entire life. I asked about the agenda for the next day’s closing celebration and was told one needed to be made and no one could tell me what the agenda for the previous’ year celebration had looked like. The teachers told me they were going to work with their students on their respective presentations, and I went back to my room hoping for a short nap at least before joining Firuza and Gulijon for a massage, not done by a human as I had wished, but by a machine. Sleep turned elusive as the construction crew continued their hammering and drilling practically outside my window and people went up and down the stairs talking whole time. Firuza knocked on my door an hour later and I followed them to a rickety room with three machines that supposedly stimulated the flow of flood in your legs and another room with black chair staring ominously at me.

It cost 5.00 somoni for the massage and I found it relatively painful even through my clothes as it pinched and kneaded my sides and scalp in too blunt a way. Firuza followed me and for the first time removed both of her head scarves to show a long mane of luxuriant hair. When I asked her why she wore two scarves instead of just one as many women did, she had no answer for me only saying it was the tradition. I paid for all three massages and left as we were expected to become members of the jury for the talent even when I protested that I didn’t know what the criteria was to give them points for. There were three mothers serving as part of the jury and they also complained they didn’t even know the names of the contestants although they were wearing numbers. We watched the students sing, dance, model traditional and Western –style clothes and then the girls had to demonstrate they could cut carrots in the perfect shape to make plov while the boys had to peel a potato without gouging it too much.

I had to have two bowls of barley soup for dinner as the main entrée was once again buckwheat and chicken. I can understand the place being a sanatorium and the chef being interested in providing healthy meals, but the repetitious menu must surely get on some people’s nerves. I asked Nigora if I could at least request French fries instead of the mashed potatoes, but she said no as that option was reserved to be made at home only. I was glad to have a whole watermelon in my room that a student’s mother had given me and planned on eating most of it that evening to compensate.

Firuza told me we needed to meet to discuss the famous agenda as she had no recollection as to what was done the year before. I brought the watermelon from my room; the kitchen provided the knife and even cut it for us. I wrote down the time slot for each act beginning at 10:00 and going until 11:40 when certificates were to be handed out to 23 graduates. We went next door to help out with the process of voting for the best poster and help out with the decoration, but after a few minutes, I could barely keep my eyes open and begged to be excused so I could go to bed at a decent time.

June 27, 2012

I slept relatively well, made coffee and sat at my computer hoping that Gulruhsor would not come knocking on my door to accompany her to the rehearsal the hokey pokey song. She didn’t, and at 7:00am I could hear the music pumping from the field next to my building. I was glad to see she had enough confidence to pull it off on her own. Parvina and Nigora came to get me for breakfast and we got the same rice pudding of two days ago, this time without even enough sugar, and since I had mentioned the fact that I didn’t care for cold boiled eggs, we got two fried eggs and the requisite hot dog this morning.

We had to wait for a while to get the chairs from the dining room to complete the set up for our classroom and then set out to get the students to describe a picture using the corresponding handouts. Groups then had a chance to read their description while showing their pictures. They were very proud of their work and I encouraged the other students to applaud their efforts. They played board games after that and I discovered that their favorite one was the board games that call for them to perform an action such as winking, whistling or skipping. Most of these actions were unknown to the students and their teachers, and so I was constantly being called to tell them what the word meant. When the student went around performing the action, other students hollered and clapped while laughing the whole time. I followed that with a modified version of a treasure hunt using the vocabulary for occupations. Again, the students were most enthusiastic and came up to me the over and over having made the wrong match, but willing to go on.

I was going to do one last game before lunch when the older teacher in the group told me it was enough as most likely I was extremely tired and if not I, then the students. I told her that wasn’t the case and she replied it must be my drinking coffee as opposed to tea that gave me so much energy for she was tired just from observing me. I wanted to say something to the effect that the difference was that I was passionate about teaching and they didn’t seem to be. For instance, it had bothered me to no end to see the one teacher who had taken part in the English Teacher Mentoring program, and who had a chance to travel to the United States for additional training, sitting down during most of our sessions just gossiping without helping out at all or providing any suggestions or ideas for the sessions. She skipped today’s sessions entirely claiming she had something to do at home or school. I skipped the last game, and the students were given additional time to work on the posters they were making for the display during the closing ceremony.

I cannot recall what we had for lunch, it was that memorable, but one of the student’s mothers came by with some watermelon and we were presented with three platters of it. I ate as much of it as I could before we went back to my room to plan for the next day as Nigora had informed us that we were going to have English classes for both the morning and afternoon sessions. The teachers had suggested having a session on environmental education and another on the educational system in the U.S.A. but I told them what the students needed was additional vocabulary instructions as they had difficulty in expressing even simple ideas. I showed some of the activities I had for that purpose and transferred them to a flashdrive for Nigora to take into town and make the corresponding number of copies.

Dinner was again lagman soup, a piece of chicken with mashed potatoes, and a buttermilk drink. I had two bowls of the soup and skipped the main dish altogether hoping I’d not get too hungry during the rest of the night. Nigora informed us that since it was a holiday in Tajikistan, Consolidation Day, a concert was planned around the front courtyard of the building beginning at 7:00. We went there and saw many of the elderly visitors sitting around a low stone wall enjoying the music from a three-piece band with some of the women dancing together. I started to dance the minute the band played something lively and was called by one the ladies to dance with her in front of the band. Never too shy to be the center of attention, I quickly jumped in and started to dance with her, which encouraged some of our students to join us and Ekram came in and danced with me in spite of having a twisted ankle from playing soccer.

I was having the time of my life when Nigora called me aside to say we were leaving and going back to the classroom for the students didn’t like to be looked at while dancing and wanted to continue the fun in private. It took forever to get the stereo system hooked up and functioning, but the music wasn’t the same and we never regained the momentum we had had in the outdoor courtyard. Ekram came to my room to retrieve the CD I had recorded for the opening celebration and told me how much he wanted to study to become an interpreter at the PedInst, but I told him that university wasn’t the best choice based on the quality of its teachers and told him to pursue his education at the Institute of Foreign Languages where there would be an English Language Fellow posted next September. He asked me for help with the process, but I really don’t know what is necessary for him to enroll.

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!

June 25, 2012

My new room still stank of raw sewage even after keeping the window open all day and night. Firuza knocked on my door at 8:00 so we could have breakfast on time and start our session sharply at 9:00am. We had another kind of milky porridge, two boiled eggs and the Russian bread I’m not fond of, but that the others prefer to the flat bread because many of them can’t afford to buy it on a daily basis. Nigora had left the camp the night before to accompany a student for his high school consultation or the chance to talk to some of the Khujand area universities about his chances of entering one of them. She had made no arrangements for us to secure a place for the English language session and thus we had no room, tables or chairs, erasers or paper or even a stapler. I was fuming mad while facing 62 students ready to engage in some interesting activity.

We had to wait until everyone had finished their breakfast to be able to borrow the tables and chairs from the dining room area. Students quickly gathered with their friends at a particular table until I told them they were to be randomly assigned to a table according to the color of the card we gave them. Some of the girls frowned and hesitated about joining a table where mostly boys were seated, but I told them there was no choice in the matter as eventually they would have to work with males and better get used to the idea. I started out by completing a KWL chart by asking them what they knew about the Fourth of July celebration and what they wanted to know and wrote their answers in the tiny whiteboard we had available. We passed out the handout about the Fourth of July celebration and I instructed them to do a round robin of reading a paragraph aloud while the rest of the group followed reading silently; however, this was obviously something they had never done and most of them wasted time going over every page of the handout without actually doing any reading.

After twenty minutes of reading, I told them we’d complete the “What we have Learned” portion of the KWL chart by having each group complete a summary of the article on chart paper and display around the room the following day. We then proceed to play “Concentration” with irregular verbs, a game they found fascinating, and then “Where am I”, which did not work out so well as the students have had little practice in asking questions and couldn’t follow the rule of not telling their friends at what particular location they were. Even the teachers didn’t know some of the places the cards mentioned. Overall, the students were ecstatic with the activities they had done and came to me with words of gratitude and praise.

Lunch was slightly better as we had the usual bowl of soup, lagman this time, and then a tiny portion of plov. It was Gulruhsor’s birthday and Nigora came back in with a cake in the shape of a turtle, something incongruous for a woman turning 25. I was hoping for a chance to take a nap, but all four teachers repaired to my room to learn more about the resources I had available in my laptop and I ended up putting together a folder with enough material to fill a CD. Nigora promised to bring blank CDs as the ones I had brought with me had been intended for Manzura and Eraj’s photo albums. The students, males in this case, had a football game in the late afternoon and we were supposed to be present to cheer them on, but I turned down the invite and stayed in my room reading.

Dinner consisted of more soup and then a small piece of flavorless chicken with a piece of potato and carrot by its side. I handed the chicken to Firuza and ate the vegetables, soup and bread. Gulruhsor followed me to my room so she could obtain some American music from me, and we ended up talking until it was time for bed. She is completing her masters at a university in Dushanbe and volunteers at a group that receives foreigners when they come to visit the city. She desperately wanted to improve her fluency and wanted to hang out with me every minute possible. We decided to have the students rehearse to dance the hokey pokey song for the closing ceremony, which meant I have to be ready at 7:00am when they do their morning exercises.

June 24, 2012

I woke up to the sounds of birds singing from the numerous trees surrounding the resort property. Nigora had secured a hot plate for my room along with a coffee mug and a spoon so I could have my coffee as soon as I woke up. It was a gorgeous morning as I stepped into the balcony to see some of the students walking or running around the property as part of their physical education component. My bathroom stank of raw sewage and the toilet didn’t flush properly, so I decided to request another room, one where hopefully pipes and electric cables would be enclosed somewhat and not hanging around me.

The students knocked on my door to remind me breakfast was being served at 8:00, and Nigora arranged for me to move into another room after that. We had porridge, something that looked and tasted it like Johnny cakes accompanied by a hot dog and tea. I passed my hot dog on to Gulrukhzor who was happy to eat it. I was introduced to the three other English teachers taking part in the camp: Nigora, Firuza and Gulrukhzor, who had just arrived that morning. Firuza had lost her father a couple of months ago and was wearing all black clothes as a sign of mourning. She approached me with what was a very tentative agenda, and I told her it looked quite different from the one Nigora had sent me previously. Once I checked online, I realized that the one I had received was last year’s and had nothing to do with the one for this camp.

The day had been broken into two huge segments with the English teachers bearing the brunt of the schedule as they were on from 9:00am to 1:00pm with a supposed coffee break at 11:00 that was later eliminated. The topics were as broad as “The Education System in the U. S. A.” and “Holidays in the U.S.A.” and to compound the problem, none of the teachers had brought any resources to cover these topics: no handouts, movies, videos, music, songs, or even posters. I know that if Nigora had asked Tahmina with sufficient time, the embassy would have provided resources to celebrate a Fourth of July picnic for instance. I suggested that we teach a session on the history of the Fourth of July celebration and had Nigora copy the corresponding handout from my electronic resources.

The teachers had no suggestions for any games to enliven the class and make sure it didn’t seem like a drag. All of the games I had brought with me were new to them and they wanted to know the rules for each one, something I was loathe to do then. We sketched the lesson for Monday, did some brainstorming for the one on Tuesday, environmental education, and talked briefly about the educational system in the States for Wednesday. We still need to come up with activities for both Thursday and Friday morning.

The students, meanwhile, had been busy rehearsing for the opening night when some dignitaries were expected to show up. It rained all afternoon and the weather cooled off significantly enough to allow me to snooze for a bit and to require a sweater when I went back to the canteen for dinner. We had lagman soup with nary a sign of salt in it, a smear of mashed potatoes and buckwheat and some tough pieces of beef on top. I was hardly hungry and could forgo most of it despite the ever present pressure to eat more and more. We left the dining room quickly so the students could decorate the place before the visitors arrived. I took a couple of photos of the striking girl that has been our server since we arrived Saturday and who sports eyebrows a la Frida Khalo.  She’s only 17, has beautiful features and the cutest dimples possible, but is scheduled to be married by her parents very soon.

We returned at 8:00 to find the room rearranged, but except for some balloons on the floor, I saw no signs of any decorating efforts. Some bigwigs from the local Department of Education and teachers along with some parents came up and were seated at the front along with me and we all had to say a little spiel about how happy we were to be taking part in  the camp and how we wish our students every success in their future endeavors. We then listened to poems being recited, hardly audible, songs being sang and typical dances performed. Of course, the piece de resistance happened to be the one performed by two girls, one dressed as a boy, of Shakira’s hit “Soy Loca por mi Tigre”, or its equivalent version in English. The students applauded, sang along and tapped their feet while the two danced around each other only twirling once.

It seemed as if every student wanted to have his or her photo taken with me and it took me a while to extricate myself from the place. I was then asked when they would be able to get prints of the photo and I’ll do my best to have them printed by the end of the camp to give them away as farewell presents.

June 23, 2012

The heat had been relentless and I was up at the crack of dawn when the roosters in the courtyard started their racket at 4:30am. I went out looking to see if anybody was up and then overheard the husband conducting his Muslim prayers and went back to bed to wait until a more decorous time to importune someone with my need for coffee. At six, I found Subhi, wearing the same outfit as the night before, coming out of one of the rooms and then her daughter, also in the same dress, coming out of yet another one. She turned on the propane gas stove and I was able to have my caffeine fix. Water was heated for my bath and breakfast, French fries and two fried eggs, was prepared for me. In the meantime, I transferred a pile of documents and presentations along with games for Subhi to use with her classes.

We proceeded to her university where an informal teacher training session took place with some of my favorite activities and games. I was then given a tour of the facilities including the many listening labs equipped with computers and Internet access and the library, where a card catalog reminded me of the year when first started college. We went to the canteen for a bite to eat, soup, salad and bread, before returning to her house so I could pick up my bags and leave for Istaravshan. When we into the mini-van to go to her house, a thin woman asked me in English if I had ever heard of the Jehovah’s Witness religion and wanted to invite me to become part of her group. I was stunned as I had never been approached in public about joining a religious group and curtly told her I wasn’t interested. She insisted on asking why and I told her I was not a believer to which Subhi quickly interjected that I was a believer, but not in her type of religion. She seemed to be at a loss for words and mercifully, our stop came up next and we were able to get rid of her presence.

Subhi spotted a taxi just waiting for additional passengers to depart for Istaravshan and negotiated that we be taken to her house for my luggage and then to the city for 30.00 somoni as I’d be paying for two passengers. The front seat was already taken by a woman carrying a large tray with an enormous cake on it while her child rode standing up between her legs. The other rear seat passenger was a woman with a baby in her arms and a little girl by her side. The woman could have been the grandmother as her weather-beaten face showed only tiredness and she promptly fell asleep for the entire ride. The little girl stared at me while the driver and the front seat passenger chatted all the way to the city.

I had called Nigora so she could tell the driver where to drop me off and as she was at a gathering of prominent women from the city of Istaravshan, she asked him to bring me directly to the restaurant where they had reserved a room for the occasion. There was the usual table laden with food, a flat screen TV playing Tajik music videos and an assortment of middle age women who worked as bankers, doctors, nurses and so on. I was urged to eat and they wouldn’t listen to my saying that I had had lunch not even two hours prior to arriving there. Meatballs were ordered for me, juice, fruits and nuts and even slices of watermelon, which did have, we did the perfunctory dance and I received lots of invitations to visit their houses before returning to Dushanbe.

Nigora took me to her house so she could pack, and I asked her to allow me a 20-minute nap before heading out to the camp as I was very tired already. She took me to a bedroom and immediately attempted to turn on the TV, but I dissuaded her from doing so but was glad to have a powerful floor fan to help with the heat. Nigora reassured me that the camp was located at some distance from the city and it’d be decidedly cooler there. I slept for a bit and then got up to make myself a cup of coffee. The taxi showed up right after that, a miniscule car where my legs barely fit over my shoulder bag and where Nigora, a stout woman to begin with, had to wrap herself in the back seat. We then stopped at the place where her NGO operates and she gave me a brief tour of her classroom, the sewing room where girls are trained to become seamstresses and her office. She had just received five notebook computers from a German NGO. We picked up two other passengers and I don’t know how they were able to cram themselves into the car. We drove 15-20 minutes out of town and into this so called “resort”, a two-story building dating from the Soviet era, but undergoing some of the shoddiest remodeling I’ve ever seen. The weather did feel slightly cooler than it had been in both Khujand and Istaravshan.

I had requested a quiet room and was given one on the second floor containing a sitting area, balcony and attached bathroom. Everyone seemed taken aback by my insistence in having the entire room to myself and the one student helping with my luggage wanted to know if I weren’t afraid to sleep alone at night. The door leading to the balcony had no lock, the bathroom stank to high heaven and the bottom portion of the water heater had detached itself, the key to the front would rotate but not open the door and the lighting was not good enough to doing any reading, which I was hoping to be able to do during the week.

Dinner consisted of dumpling soup, mashed potatoes and fried chicken, which I quickly passed on to Nigora, and more tea. I could hardly eat as it was given the three meals I had already consumed, but politely took a few sips from the soup and ate the mashed potatoes. Students accompanied me back to my room as they wanted to practice their English as much as possible and stayed for about an hour before being called to help out with the decoration of the camp. I read long enough to finish “The Tiger’s Wife”, an unsatisfactory ending for that matter and was obligated to listen to the racket next door until almost eleven.

June 22, 2012

I got up early to make sure I was ready to be picked up by the embassy vehicle by nine. Eraj didn’t show up by eight as he had promised, and I left his things with a note for Ryan to deliver them to him at his convenience. Two embassy SUVs showed up and Elbek, my former student from the first floor of my apartment complex, materialized out of nowhere and helped me with my bags. I ended up sharing a vehicle with a driver who is a graduate from the PedInst, class of 2007, and had who studied under Tahmina whom he considered a great teacher. We had a spirited conversation about the shortcomings of the institute and he swore it used to be different when most of the professors were Russian and not given to taking bribes. He vaguely remembered the deputy dean mostly because of his arrogance in believing his knowledge of the English language was far superior to the rest of the faculty members.

Manucher, who subsequently became a teacher and actually taught for a few years before giving up the profession due to the low salary it paid, ended up being a consular employee in Russia until his father was killed while crossing the street and he needed to come back to Tajikistan to keep his mother company. We had a smooth ride until we got to the terrifying five kilometer long tunnel still under construction when the two five-gallon canisters full of gasoline that the drivers must bring with them as the embassy doesn’t allow them to buy gasoline from local suppliers, started to leak onto the trunk. I thought I was going to pass out from the fumes and felt almost a narcotic effect, as if going under anesthesia practically. When we finally emerged from the tunnel, Manucher had to take out all the luggage he was transporting for the musicians, plus my own, to air out the trunk. He suggested that I switch cars and go with the older driver, who spoke no English whatsoever, but I decided to stick with him and just asked that the windows be kept open the whole time.

We stopped in Ayni for lunch at what we might consider a truck stop, and I had no luck as neither place, facing each other, had plov to offer. It was back to the usual shorbot soup, salad and flat bread. I insisted on paying for the lunch tab, 47.00 somoni, and the drivers were quite taken aback by my gesture. Going up the mountains we encountered heavy hail, and then rain mixed with snow. We continued our journey until traffic came to an abrupt stop at the highest point of the Shahriston Pass where a landslide had blocked the road and everybody indicated they were waiting for a tractor to come by and remove it. It only took three and half hours for it to arrive, and Manucher and I exhausted many topics of conversation to keep each other entertained while I pitied the older driver ahead of us who alone in his car. At least we had good music to listen to while I picked Manucher’s brain about Tajikistan in general.

I called Subhi, Corrie’s friend, to let her know that I was getting into Khujand just before 8:00pm not realizing her house was in a village on the way there. Manucher delivered me to the bus stop where she was waiting for me and told me that if anything was not to my liking to just call him and he would return for me. I was so touched by his offer that I didn’t even know what to say while also knowing that whatever the conditions in Subhi’s house, I’d never refuse to stay with her. Once we got to her house, I made a beeline to the bathroom and was then introduced to her husband, son and daughter. I was not shown the house and was instead given a tour of the vegetable garden, orchard, chicken coup and barn where goats and sheep are kept. Manure was kept within the enclosed courtyard and the smell was almost overpowering not to mention the presence of an army of flies that pestered us all evening while we ate dinner al fresco.

Subhi’s daughter got to work on some borsch soup, the brother started a brazier to grill the fish his father had caught that morning, and the parents chatted with me about this and that. The fish was delicious, lightly salted and served with chopped garlic, sliced onions and quartered tomatoes. I tried to refuse the second one, but they would have none of that and I stuffed myself to the gills. After such a heavy meal, my eyes could not stay open much longer and I begged to be excused from the table. The daughter heated up water for me to brush my teeth and Subhi got the bed ready for me. There was a fan in the room that just pushed the hot air around and I could find no way to stay cool, so sleep eluded me for a long despite how tired I was.