Monday, December 21, 2009
Frustration
Frustrated today, but everything is OK. Just gotta hold out to my Turkish vacation in four days...
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Thanksgiving, a l'azerbaidjanaise
I've received a few emails and messages wondering how my Thanksgiving was spent, so I figured I would type up a quick post to keep everyone updated.
Last week, the embassy had a party for us at an employee's house. All the volunteers went to Baku with their own homemade dishes for our turkey feast! After the delicious meal, there was a talent show... where I deftly handled the nose-flute. And by deftly handled, I mean "was unable to play." That is a difficult instrument to play!
On real Thanksgiving, which was Thursday as you well know, the Barda volunteers went to Lexi's house where we ate stuffing, mashed potatoes, spinach and other fine Thanksgiving treats. But Thanksgiving doesn't end there. In fact, in Muslim countries "Qurban bayrami" or Sacrifice Holiday takes place for about a week at the end of November. This Sacrifice Holiday commemorates Abraham's sacrifice to God from the Old Testament (a shared story among Jews, Muslims and Christains by the way). People remember the sacrifice by slaughtering sheep or cows and giving the meat to poorer family. My counterpart is fortunate enough to have enough money to buy meat, so she and her husband bought a sheep and slaughtered it.
Of course they waited for me to come over before they did the deed. A year ago this would have horrified me, but since I pass five butcher shops on my way to school every morning, witnessing the slaughter was hardly shocking. After they cut up the sheep into little parts, they gave portions to various poorer people in the neighborhood. It was really nice to watch the generosity and see how similar our traditions are despite being so far away from one another.
Of course not all traditions can or even should be loved by a foreigner. For the next morning, we ate the head of the sheep for breakfast! BARF- eating animal heads is one tradition I have never liked but always seem to get stuck doing! Happy Qurban Bayrami!
Last week, the embassy had a party for us at an employee's house. All the volunteers went to Baku with their own homemade dishes for our turkey feast! After the delicious meal, there was a talent show... where I deftly handled the nose-flute. And by deftly handled, I mean "was unable to play." That is a difficult instrument to play!
On real Thanksgiving, which was Thursday as you well know, the Barda volunteers went to Lexi's house where we ate stuffing, mashed potatoes, spinach and other fine Thanksgiving treats. But Thanksgiving doesn't end there. In fact, in Muslim countries "Qurban bayrami" or Sacrifice Holiday takes place for about a week at the end of November. This Sacrifice Holiday commemorates Abraham's sacrifice to God from the Old Testament (a shared story among Jews, Muslims and Christains by the way). People remember the sacrifice by slaughtering sheep or cows and giving the meat to poorer family. My counterpart is fortunate enough to have enough money to buy meat, so she and her husband bought a sheep and slaughtered it.
Of course they waited for me to come over before they did the deed. A year ago this would have horrified me, but since I pass five butcher shops on my way to school every morning, witnessing the slaughter was hardly shocking. After they cut up the sheep into little parts, they gave portions to various poorer people in the neighborhood. It was really nice to watch the generosity and see how similar our traditions are despite being so far away from one another.
Of course not all traditions can or even should be loved by a foreigner. For the next morning, we ate the head of the sheep for breakfast! BARF- eating animal heads is one tradition I have never liked but always seem to get stuck doing! Happy Qurban Bayrami!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Return of the cow head
I came home one day, minding my own business, when all of a sudden I spotted a strange box in the middle of the yard. Intrigued, I decided to open the mystery box. This is what awaited me:
YUM YUM YUM!
The host father, Arif, came home shortly thereafter to get to slicin’ and dicin’. I just can’t escape this cow head. Oh well… as they say, “When in Rome….”
YUM YUM YUM!
The host father, Arif, came home shortly thereafter to get to slicin’ and dicin’. I just can’t escape this cow head. Oh well… as they say, “When in Rome….”
Halloween
Halloween is a time of fright, fear and … grey pumpkins? Besides this last irregularity, I spent this year’s Halloween surprisingly normally. Halloween began when I taught the kids everyone’s favorite song: “Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!” For some reason, they loved “smell my feet” the most.
On the eve of All Hallows Eve, I carved grey pumpkins with my host sister, Nurana. I couldn’t believe I was actually carving pumpkins in Azerbaijan… but I also found it ridiculous to see a grey pumpkin. It just AIN’T NATURAL!!! Anyways, my pumpkin turned out great, as you can see below:
On Halloween, we took the kids to an event at another school. They bobbed for apples, trick or treated and the like. It was completely new and incredibly interesting for them! I also was able to watch everyone's favorite Halloween comedy about the Sanderson Sisters: Hocus Pocus! A very good Halloween, indeed :)
On the eve of All Hallows Eve, I carved grey pumpkins with my host sister, Nurana. I couldn’t believe I was actually carving pumpkins in Azerbaijan… but I also found it ridiculous to see a grey pumpkin. It just AIN’T NATURAL!!! Anyways, my pumpkin turned out great, as you can see below:
On Halloween, we took the kids to an event at another school. They bobbed for apples, trick or treated and the like. It was completely new and incredibly interesting for them! I also was able to watch everyone's favorite Halloween comedy about the Sanderson Sisters: Hocus Pocus! A very good Halloween, indeed :)
The day I fell out of my mother
Anadan olmaq = Azeri for “to be from mother” otherwise known as “to be born.” So when Azeris say “I was born on October 16,” they are really saying “I fell out of my mother on October 16.” Kinda funny, huh?
Anyways, I am now the big ole’ iyirmi uch, or 23 as we say in the English tongue. And because this is Azerbaijan - where adventure lurks round every corner - my birthday was an interesting one indeed.
It all began on the 14th. The English teachers gleefully told me they would take me the following day to buy a suit for my birthday. I told them a million times to not buy me anything (money is very tight here) but they insisted, saying they would be upset if I didn't accept. That night, I must have eaten something parasitic because I was sick as a dog for about 12 hours, unable to eat and head a-spinning. I was sure it was swine flu until I watched the state news, which benevolently declared (and continues to declare) that swine flu has not come to Azerbaijan yet. *sarcastic eyebrow raise* Nevertheless, the morning of the 15th, I dragged my sorry rear out of bed to go get my suit. And what a suit it is! It’s from Turkey, which over here is equivalent to Paris or Milan-like quality. It fits me surprisingly well and I feel quite chic in my Turkish threads. As I put it on in the sad little bazaar stand, I instantly snapped out of my sickness. The rest of the day involved: a surprise birthday party at school, cake, preparing Azerbaijani food for my dinner party (wrapping dolma SUCKS!) and the dinner party itself.
The 16th was equally exciting. The teachers were so happy to see me wearing the suit that a few of them may have teared up. You think I’m joking, but I’m not. The teachers weren’t finished with me yet, though. They threw me a birthday lunch at Tofiga’s house where I danced (alone?) and ate until I just about exploded. Somehow word got out to all the kids at school and I was showered with gifts as well. I didn't want to take them but I had no choice. I have to admit though, I’m glad to have them. Some of my favorites include:
a giant evil eye
a “Rulex” watch
a cigar kit
a cup and saucer kit of Mecca
a ceramic orange complete with dessert forks
a plug-in rainbow colored watermill, that spins a glass sphere
All in all, I had a great bday! I was amazed and humbled by the school’s attention to the date where I was out of my mother. They say next year will be even bigger… stay tuned! Thanks also to friends and family who wrote messages, letters, sent packages and called. Made me feel warm and tingly!
Anyways, I am now the big ole’ iyirmi uch, or 23 as we say in the English tongue. And because this is Azerbaijan - where adventure lurks round every corner - my birthday was an interesting one indeed.
It all began on the 14th. The English teachers gleefully told me they would take me the following day to buy a suit for my birthday. I told them a million times to not buy me anything (money is very tight here) but they insisted, saying they would be upset if I didn't accept. That night, I must have eaten something parasitic because I was sick as a dog for about 12 hours, unable to eat and head a-spinning. I was sure it was swine flu until I watched the state news, which benevolently declared (and continues to declare) that swine flu has not come to Azerbaijan yet. *sarcastic eyebrow raise* Nevertheless, the morning of the 15th, I dragged my sorry rear out of bed to go get my suit. And what a suit it is! It’s from Turkey, which over here is equivalent to Paris or Milan-like quality. It fits me surprisingly well and I feel quite chic in my Turkish threads. As I put it on in the sad little bazaar stand, I instantly snapped out of my sickness. The rest of the day involved: a surprise birthday party at school, cake, preparing Azerbaijani food for my dinner party (wrapping dolma SUCKS!) and the dinner party itself.
The 16th was equally exciting. The teachers were so happy to see me wearing the suit that a few of them may have teared up. You think I’m joking, but I’m not. The teachers weren’t finished with me yet, though. They threw me a birthday lunch at Tofiga’s house where I danced (alone?) and ate until I just about exploded. Somehow word got out to all the kids at school and I was showered with gifts as well. I didn't want to take them but I had no choice. I have to admit though, I’m glad to have them. Some of my favorites include:
a giant evil eye
a “Rulex” watch
a cigar kit
a cup and saucer kit of Mecca
a ceramic orange complete with dessert forks
a plug-in rainbow colored watermill, that spins a glass sphere
All in all, I had a great bday! I was amazed and humbled by the school’s attention to the date where I was out of my mother. They say next year will be even bigger… stay tuned! Thanks also to friends and family who wrote messages, letters, sent packages and called. Made me feel warm and tingly!
Monday, October 12, 2009
The mid-way mark
Are people still reading this blog? If so, congratulations! You have been reading this page for about 13 months, or in layman’s terms, half of my PC service!
It is interesting to think that in another 13 months, my time will be over and I will return to the ole US of A. At this halfway point in my service, it is tempting to ask myself: What have I done? That question seems a bit self-centric (not to mention depressing due to the lack of results!), so I have been trying to think of a different question: “How have I developed?” Sounds corny, I know, but you’re still reading aren’t you? I won’t bore you with this journey into my conscience; just know that I am in a state of self-reflection that a Confucian monk would be proud of.
A little funny story to end this semi-serious post: On my way home the other day, a man called out to me from across the street. Because this sort of thing happens every day (despite my apparently “Turkish” looks, I tend to stick out like a sore thumb), I ignored him and continued to walk home. Eventually, the grown man trailing after me in my peripheral vision merited some sort of response. Mustering all the coldness in my face that was able to be mustered, I awaited one of the following three, typical questions: 1. Will you teach my child English? 2. How much money do you make? or 3. Do you know (insert name here), my brother’s daughter’s uncle’s grandfather’s cousin’s neighbor’s step-mother’s son? Luckily, I was wrong. The man was chasing me down because he saw I was wearing a tie, and needed someone to knot his son’s tie for school. I happily knotted the boy’s tie, received a brief thank you, and watched the man run off to give his son the tie. Peace Corps is truly all about the little victories.
It is interesting to think that in another 13 months, my time will be over and I will return to the ole US of A. At this halfway point in my service, it is tempting to ask myself: What have I done? That question seems a bit self-centric (not to mention depressing due to the lack of results!), so I have been trying to think of a different question: “How have I developed?” Sounds corny, I know, but you’re still reading aren’t you? I won’t bore you with this journey into my conscience; just know that I am in a state of self-reflection that a Confucian monk would be proud of.
A little funny story to end this semi-serious post: On my way home the other day, a man called out to me from across the street. Because this sort of thing happens every day (despite my apparently “Turkish” looks, I tend to stick out like a sore thumb), I ignored him and continued to walk home. Eventually, the grown man trailing after me in my peripheral vision merited some sort of response. Mustering all the coldness in my face that was able to be mustered, I awaited one of the following three, typical questions: 1. Will you teach my child English? 2. How much money do you make? or 3. Do you know (insert name here), my brother’s daughter’s uncle’s grandfather’s cousin’s neighbor’s step-mother’s son? Luckily, I was wrong. The man was chasing me down because he saw I was wearing a tie, and needed someone to knot his son’s tie for school. I happily knotted the boy’s tie, received a brief thank you, and watched the man run off to give his son the tie. Peace Corps is truly all about the little victories.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Xinaliq... "the middle of the middle of nowhere"
In order to grab some precious fresh air before school begins in a week, a few friends and I escaped on a final vacation into the middle of the middle of nowhere: Xinaliq. Xinaliq, pronounced like: [hocking a loogie noise] + [in] + [a] + [lick], is an ancient, isolated village located in the north of Azerbaijan, nestled in the barren roots of the Great Caucasus Mountains. Despite a small population of about 500 people, the village boasts its own culture, architecture, traditions, language and religious practices.
The middle of the middle of nowhere.
The road to Xinaliq was dangerous at best; snaking around mountains, cliff faces and roaring river beds. One false move in our LandRover and we would have literally fallen off the side. We even found a wreckage of a car that wasn't so cautious: five people died in what was apparently a case of drunk driving that had undoubtedly resembled drunk flying. Sad. Nevertheless, the scenery was amazing. Breathtakingly amazing. The weather was foggy, which provided a view that was both eerie and beautiful. There were some parts in the road where clouds of fog rolled so quickly that mountains appeared, disappeared and reappeared in a matter of seconds - right before your eyes.
This is one of those mountains.
Once we arrived in Xinaliq, we hiked all around the village and met with the locals. My favorite was the shepherd girl (pictured below) who watched us take "jumping" photos, like the crazy tourists we were. We stayed with a host family and ate on the floor, which made us feel very Eastern. I had some Montazuma's Revenge that night which kept me up until about 2 AM, but luckily there were primo toilet facilities. And by primo, I mean a hole in the ground with trash around it. It's always good to have reminders that you're in the Peace Corps.
School is overrated, anyways.
And that was Xinaliq. The next day we descended from our magical, hobbitish fairy land in the mountains and returned to Baku and Barda. This week I may have access to wireless Internet (!), so you may just see a video here soon enough. Stay tuned!
Da svidanya
The middle of the middle of nowhere.
This is one of those mountains.Once we arrived in Xinaliq, we hiked all around the village and met with the locals. My favorite was the shepherd girl (pictured below) who watched us take "jumping" photos, like the crazy tourists we were. We stayed with a host family and ate on the floor, which made us feel very Eastern. I had some Montazuma's Revenge that night which kept me up until about 2 AM, but luckily there were primo toilet facilities. And by primo, I mean a hole in the ground with trash around it. It's always good to have reminders that you're in the Peace Corps.
School is overrated, anyways.
Da svidanya
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