I did it.

Moo-licious.

I ate a cow head. I actually ate a cow head.
As you might imagine, it was a horrible experience.

Sumgait

Now that Pre-Service Training is coming to a close (I get sworn in on Wednesday) I have to think back on the twelve weeks I've spent in my settlement of Saray and all I've learned here. I'm glad to say that Training was a worthwhile and beneficial experience for me; language has been a breeze, I've made good friends, and I have plenty of hilarious stories. But nothing has been more central to this Training experience than the mysterious metropolis of Sumgait. Sumgait is the third largest city in AZ and is situated in the center of our Training villages, so that whenever the entire PC group meets up, we meet in Sumgait. It is every PC Trainee's internet, beer, and entertainment haven. And as crazy as it sounds, I'm going to miss this place when I leave in four days. What can I say about Sumgait, the city of escape?

Sumgait is a purely Soviet town that is just now discovering its Azerbaijani roots. It is on the Caspian Sea, and once served as the USSR's capital of chemical engineering. This era of chemicals has come to halt, thereby slowing economic growth but ironically alleviating the high rate of infant mortality and sea pollution. According to my Travel book, Sumgait used to be the world capital of infant mortality and one of the top ten polluted places in the world. Yet I have to say, even as you peer into the evening smoke haze from the nearby factories, there is something eerily charming about the town's winding pipe mazes and rusted metal fixtures. Every now and then you find a candid glimpse into the Soviet era; in the form of an overgrown theme park, countless Technicolor apartment buildings, modern art sculptures made of cement, old men doing their daily Soviet exercise routines by the seashore, a corroded Cyrillic sign inviting citizens to enjoy the "City beach," or the giant red rusted hull of a ship still idly waiting at the dock. It's a very nostalgic place, and if I were more of a solitary person, I could easily spend hours by myself wandering around. I'm not sure I'll ever come back to Sumgait, but I will leave here with very fond memories. Partly because of friends and family, but I think mostly because of Sumgait itself. It's good to be here.

All aboard!

One and two and three and four!

Sag ol vermek!

Not exactly a turkey and mashed potatoes

Or Thanksgiving. Actually, there is no direct translation for Thanksgiving, though Lorena, a fellow PC person, valiantly attempted to use this phrase. Alas, all she got were blank stares and horizontally shaking hands (Americans shrug their shoulders when they don't understand; Azeris shake their hands horizontally, kind of like half clapping). So many of you have sent me letters and cards (extra thanks to Mrs. Lois!), and I want to reassure you all that I did indeed celebrate Thanksgiving, and no I wasn't (too) lonely. On the day of, about 15-20 Trainees got together at Lorena's house to celebrate this very American holiday. Since narrative format is so boring, I'll just summarize with witty bullet point remarks.

• Lorena's house was a mansion!
• Thanksgiving also turned out to be Linda's 60th birthday. Sorry Linda for making that information public, but it's OK; you look damn fine for 60 years old.
• We each brought our own food contribution.
• I brought a veggie platter, because I can't cook. This deserves its own paragraph.

The story of the veggie platter:

So I first decided to bring chips and salsa, but soon realized I had no idea how to make chips, or salsa. Woops. I thus begged to change my item which turned out to be no problem. I did, however, have to go into the central city and purchase some veggies. I bartered with the friendly bazaar man for peppers, tomatoes, and olives. He was nice, but was probably the 54th person to ask me to take him to America. My response to this is always: "Inshallah (God willing!)" and a big, American smile. Works every time. Anyways, I got home and cut those bad boys up with my host mom's help (she didn't like my cutting technique. Or my arrangement patterns on the dish. Or the pace at which I was cutting. In fact, she did most of it), and voila my first party food contribution. I hope next time it will actually involve cooking something, but baby steps. Baby steps.

So that's pretty much it about Thanksgiving. I'd have preferred being home making fun of my grandparents for having voted for McCain, but alas, life is tough. Not too exciting, but it was great to spend this holiday with other Americans. Christmas will be another story…

Azerbai-journal #2

There is perhaps no better cross-cultural activity than PhotoShop. No matter where you're from, it's still funny to see your head grafted onto someone else's body. This is precisely what I have been doing the past few days as a way to entertain my host family. What started out as a recreational pastime has now turned into a full time job. "Jeremy, I don't like the guy in this picture, can you take him out on your computer?" or "Jeremy I don't like my smile in this picture… can you fix it?" Since most of the undesired photos are in hard copy format, I've ended up taking pictures of pictures and then going from there.

I'm glad to say I'll be retiring from this position in a few weeks, though I have to say I've gotten pretty good.