Living in my head

I've been thinking about this topic pretty much since I got to Azerbaijan.  Perhaps not the first couple of weeks, I'm not sure I thought at all during the first two weeks.

I was laying in bed this morning, listening to the sounds outside and thought about how it sounds pretty much like Seattle.  The drone of cars in the distance, horns, birds and the wind.  The hum of conversations that you can't quite hear but provide comfort that you're not alone.  The sound of footsteps, kitchen noises, the running of the washing machine. There is a comfort in the familiar sounds and then you realize that normally you don't hear so many rooster, chicken, duck sounds or the occasional moo. Also if you try to hone in on a conversation, you realize that for the most part you have no idea what is being said and even if you did, you have no context or familiarity in which to truly understand the conversation.  It is then you realize that while you are part of landscape you are on the periphery in a slightly different world of your own making.  It is then when I realize how much I live in my head.

Please don't misunderstand, I am present in my life, it is just that my life has such a transitory quality to it. When I committed to this journey, I realized that it was for two years. Two years is such a short time and once you get into it, it becomes even shorter.  I am already three months in and I have so much to learn. I understand that my integration into the community will only be partial.  I can physically navigate and my Azerbaijan is good enough to get my needs met, but I communicate on such a basic level.  Complex thoughts are difficult if not impossible to express unless the person you are talking to has a command of English and with the cultural differences on top of the communication issues it can be mind boggling.  So I turn inside my head and hold the conversations with myself. 

I'm writing this in part to share and in part to remember.  I am truly blessed to be on this journey and am curious how it will unfold.

Two Short Stories

Bus Ride

 

 

I live in a suburb of Baku about 7km north. To get to Baku is a ten minute walk on dirt roads to the main road, a wait up to 20 minutes for the next bus, a 15 minute ride into Baku and then onto another bus as dictated by my final destination.  However, there has been construction on the main road for the last week and the transportation system has been both fluid and creative. 

 

Today's adventure home had the bus rerouting to a dirt road accessed by a 90 degree turn off the four lane highway.  The dirt roads in my neighborhood are really designed for one way traffic and not particularly even. Also, the rerouting is based on the driver's intuition and in this case guidance from others.  The hope is that you guess where on the reroute is closest to your normal stop.  At one point in today's reroute I'm pretty sure the bus hit a wall.  I was surprised when the bus rejoined the main road at my normal stop.  The bus was packed, the roads were bumpy, I had been standing for about 30 minutes and was holding on so tight to the overhead bar that my hand was numb. But I knew where I was - was safe and sound so all was well.

 

Example of neighborhood street



Big buses in the background example of city buses



Nana Comes for a Visit

 

Earlier this week, I got home from my organization and my host mother, her mother and sister were sitting around the kitchen table.  My host mother's brother was also wandering around the house.  Since one never knows who might be in the house, this was not an unusual circumstance. However this was the first time Nana had come to visit.  I said Salam,  headed to my room, changed, joined them for cay and conversation. More like cay and listening to conversation where I pickup words here and there but not enough to follow. I'm good for about 20 minutes and then head back to my room. Came out later and Nana was still with us but the rest of the gang was gone. Nana took over Nunu's room so Nunu joined me in mine. Good thing I have a extra bed.  We're heading into night four.   

One item I have grasped is that you need to expect anything and be very fluid.  Since I've gotten here the following has occurred.

• Woken up to the entire family gone
• Only person up, Neighbor/relative drops in wants to know where everyone is. Thank goodness I had washed dishes, but house not quite clean enough.
• Woke up with slight headache. Family going out for day. Home alone - not.  Cousins stop by to look for friends, watch TV

  

  , cook, etc.  Granted they played quietly. (Nana and Host Mom)
• Home from work, change and lets go to a 1 year olds birthday party. - four hours later of non-stop food and entertainment you call it quits. House Mom comes home with you at 11:30. 
• Remainder of party return home at 3:00

All I know is that I will come home one day and Nana will be gone and I will miss her.

A minor adventure

This past weekend I decided to visit friends out in a region.  Barda is located west of Baku in an agriculture region. On Friday I headed to the Baku Avtovagzel to catch a bus. As I got to the vagzel there was a bus pulling out but it was full so I waited for the next one.  When the bus pulled it I purchased my fare and got settled in my seat waiting for the bus to fill up and leave.  It appeared that it would be awhile until the bus left, so I went to the bathroom and decided to see if I could locate new earphones in the shopping area at the vagzel.  Both pairs of earphones I brought with me broke and I hate listening to music with only one earphone working.  I was successful in locating a new pair, in my favorite color blue.  So about ten minutes after leaving the bus, I returned.  Much to my horror the bus wasn't in the bay.  After a short initial panic, I asked someone where the bus went, or at least that was my intention.  He pointed to where some marshukas were.  My overnight bag was on the bus with two bottles of wine as hosting gifts.  I thought of where on the route out of the vagzel I could try to locate the bus and while moving towards that goal, I found that the bus had just moved bays. Needless to say I was mighty relieved and got on that bus and after 40 minutes we pulled out for our five hour ride.  I don't know if the bus was just in the wrong bay or they decided to mess with the American.  While in my initial panic I was able to determine what to do; 1) call my friend and have her get my bag off the bus at its destination, and 2) get on another bus, it was a very unpleasant moment. I texted a friend and found my fingers to be shaking.  It shows the power of a shot of adrenalin. Of course it makes a good story. While this story had a happy ending, I was pleased that I was able to determine that had it turned out differently, it wouldn't have been tragic.  I still had my money, passport, computer and phone.  The clothes were few and too big.  Toothbrushes are easy to find.  And, I can still think on the fly.
The visit was great and of course the adventures didn't end with the first leg bus trip.  When I got to Jesse's house half of her electricity was out.  The rest went out about a half hour in.  The gas also went out. So, instead of spaghetti with tomatoes, cheese and spinach, we had cheese, tomato and basil sandwiches followed by watermelon.  Her landlords came over to fix the problem that caused half of the electrical issue.  This involved pliers and electrical tape. Thank goodness that the power was out and her landlord turned off the electric at the box.  His wife decided to climb a ladder and pick grapes.  This involved a ladder with a lot of dry rot and her shooing any help away because she was in a dress.  Quite a show.
The next day we went to the bazaar and bought supplies for a summer camp, set up the room for the camp then on to lunch.  We went to a donar shop and had meat in what is basically a tortilla with parsley and lemon.  Pretty tasty.  Then back home around on so that we weren't out during the heat of the afternoon.  Barda is about 10-15 degrees hotter than Baku, so it was in the high 90's. After resting, two more friends came for dinner.  The pasta dish we weren't able to eat the night before and apple crisp.  So nice to catch up with friends.
Got up Sunday morning and headed out for my trip back home.  Of course, I had to make it another adventure.  I got on the local marshuka going the wrong way.  So instead of heading to the avtovagzel, I got a tour of Barda.  I missed my bus, but ended up in a shared taxi.  About double the cost but about two hours shorter.  It is amazing how different the landscape looks from a different height. I was in the front seat of a Mercedes (wish it had a seat belt). I made it home safe and sound.  
While the trip didn't flow the way I had planned, it was wonderful.  I got to see how I respond to travel mishaps (I can adjust), I got to see things I wouldn't have otherwise, I got to have new experiences.  I even was able to practice my Azerbaijan and while it isn't pretty, I can communicate.
As we say here in Azerbaijan - Yaxsi Yol!!

Jesse, my superb hostess and me

Four roosters have gone to heaven

I believe that I had previously commented that my host family had 80 chickens.  The chickens belonged to my host family and my host father's two brothers' families.

Before the move

A couple of weeks ago after the construction was complete on the brother's chicken house, half the chickens moved next door.  So we were down to 40.  Well, we are now down to 36. My host sister has been wanting fresh chicken so last night after dinner four roosters bit the dust.  It was quite a production, witnessed and participated my members of my extended family. I think at one point we had around ten people in the yard.

First there was the selecting of chickens.  Since my family hopes to get eggs from the females, roosters were the target.  This was accomplished by entering the chicken coop with flashlight, spotting a rooster and then shutting off the flashlight and grabbing the rooster.  According to Nunu, chickens can't see in the dark.  I did not participate in the chicken selection, but was sipping tea in the kitchen with my host mother. The chickens were brought up to the yard to meet their maker.  I did dishes while the first two were dispatched, but did pluck up enough courage to witness the demise of the final two.  An uncle was in charge of this aspect of the process.  He stood on the wings, while the chickens faced Mecca and cut off their heads.

Once the roosters were dead and stopped moving the women swooped in.  One-by-one boiling water was poured over the chickens to loosen up the feathers.  The primary plucking was done at one table, with the finer plucking at another.  I gathered my courage and assisted in the fine plucking.  Somewhere there is a picture of me.  I was doing fine and only jumped once when a headless neck swung my way.  I believe that my primary goal in this process was to provide comic relief.

After assisting with the finer plucking of two of the roosters, I sat down and watched for a while but headed to bed prior to the gutting.  To honor the roosters that would be providing my next day's diinner, I ate  package of Trader Joe's Meyer lemon cookies.

Winner, winner, chicken dinner

Patti's on a mission

So, I asked my sister to send me a care package of primarily food items that I missed.  Below is a listing of the items I requested:

• Trader Joe's
• meyer lemon cookies
• ginger cookies
• soft and juicy mango slices
• green tea mints
• chili peppers
• almond and cranberry KIND bars (thanks to Arielle who introduced them to me)
• Burt's Bees lip balm
• Starbuck's Cool Lime Refreshers
• Individual packs of almond butter
• scotch tape (the tape here is a little odd)
• yeast

She sent them in mid-July.  Based on the tracking information it arrived in Azerbaijan the next week and was identified as unclaimed as of the 29th of July.

In the meantime, I was checking every few days at my local post office.  My local post office is on the way to work and the woman who works there calls me when I have mail.  I would ask her about my package and she would let me know that it hadn't arrived yet.  All this is done in Azerbaijan.

Today was a slow day at work, so I decided to try to figure out where in Azerbaijan my package was.  First I decided to figure out if the postal code I had been given and had given out was correct.  Ended up it was not correct.  I have been getting letters so I thought perhaps packages have a different system. The postal code belonged to the closest city about 5km from my work.  Armed with this knowledge, I decided to leave work an hour early in an attempt to locate my package. I felt the need to tackle this task today since the next two days are holidays to mark the end of Ramadan and I wanted a treat going into my four day weekend.

So I headed out to catch a bus that would get me close to the post office in the city.  My first mistake, was not getting off the bus in time and/or indicating that I needed to get off at the beginning of the highway on-ramp.  I ended up heading toward Baku.  I got off at the next off-ramp and crossed over to catch the next bus back.  Unfortunately, I just missed a bus and ended up waiting about 30 minutes for the next one. At this point I had been on my quest for about an hour.  Caught the bus and got off for a six block walk to the post office.

Once I got to the post office, I was able to ask about my package, gave them the tracking number and it was determined that it was in the post office in my town.  Headed back six blocks and caught a bus to my post office.  Once there, no package. However, I was able to communicate what the clerk at the city post office told me.  Ends up there is another post office in my town. She called and of course my package was there.  By this time it was about 20 minutes before 5 and the post office closes at 5.  She explained where the post office was and wrote me directions.  At first I didn't understand. Once I took a deep breath I figured out where she wanted me to go.

Back to the bus. Got off at the stop indicated and asked two people for additional directions. The post office ended up around the back of buildings on the main street with no obvious signage.  Got there with five minutes to spare.  The clerk knew I was coming and welcomed me in English.  The computer wasn't cooperating so they got me a chair and ordered me to sit.  I saw pictures of her wedding and trip to the US.  Just before 5:30 I was send off with two packages and two letters.  They have my phone number, so I should know if other items arrive.

Back to the bus for a short ride to the stop for home.  Ends up I passed the post office my package was in three times in my quest today and who knows how many times since it arrived.  Two and a half hours after I started my journey I arrived home and got to see my memories of home. I shared some cookies with my host family.  The lemon cookies are a hit.

Next time the post office trip will take 45 minutes tops.  I learned a lot along the way and also discovered that my Azerbaijan is good enough to figure all this out.  Miracles do happen.

My treats are the best things ever to go into a long weekend with. 

Thanks go out to my wonderful sister for the package and to my friend Jo for the blood orange candy bar. 

Patti

Quba visit

As usual, I'm running about a week behind with my posts and the actual event.  Last weekend I took my first solo trip out to a rayon (region).  My trip was a short distance, 180km a 2 1/2 hour bus ride from the Baku Avtovagzal (bus station)  The Avtovagzal is designed to look like the Titanic. Local buses and some marshruks to the regions depart from the lower level. The "bigger" buses depart from the upper level. There is also a two store outlet mall at the avtovagzal.  Below is a picture of the part of the upper level with the lower level in the background.  The bus station is incredibly busy with local buses departing every couple of minutes.

 My bus to Quba was one of the smaller buses, with "jump" seats in the aisle.  There is a bench seat in the back and two seats up with the driver.  These are primarily for men only and should be rejected by women. The bus driver will try to rearrange the seats so that women are not uncomfortable. The rest of the bus is two seats and one seat.  Once they are filled up, the aisle seats are filled from back to front.  On the way to Quba, I got the last regular seat, however it was over the wheel well and I sat for the entire trip with my bag on my lap and my knees towards my chest.  Most uncomfortable, especially since the padding on the seats is not exactly cushy.

 

The trip to Quba follows the coast north for the first part and then for the last hour heads west towards the mountains.  Quba is known for apples and the region is much greener and a little cooler than Baku.

 

I stayed with another PCV who works with a carpet factory that is all women (a token male, who is related and the driver). There are two rooms with looms and I was able to see women making carpets.  It is incredibly labor intensive, but beautiful to watch.  The factory primarily makes carpets to order. The director sits down with clients to discuss the type, color and design of the carpet. The designs are traditional as part of the mission of the factory is to preserve the designs.The design dictates the sizes that are possible.  Also, while you may order specific colors; the carpet may change as it reveals itself. We had tea in the factory's garden before moving on to our next destination, another PCV's home.

 

Hospitality is incredible in Azerbaijan.  When we arrived and had settled in for the visit, we were served tea and sweets.  Then dinner and capped the visit off with dondurma (ice cream). Ice cream is difficult to find outside the warmer months, so the PCVs look forward to when ice cream becomes available as an end of the cold.  During our visit a couple, who were relatives, stopped by for shots.  Yes, I mean injections.  Like Americans pop pills, the preferred method of delivery of medication appears to be shots.  So, just after tea and before the table was cleared, out came the stuff to get the three injections prepared. Thank goodness they were delivered in a bedroom and we didn't have to watch.  This is all treated with a casual routine that is very matter-of-fact, which makes is all the more interesting.  I hope this doesn't catch on in the states.

 

The next day, we woke up and I got to go to Qirmizi Qesebe the "big red village"  It is reached by a pedestrian bridge(see below)  and is across a river from Quba.  In guide books it is described as the only all-Jewish town outside of Israel and some believe that the inhabitants are direct descendants of one of the "lost tribes".

 

After walking through the village, I grabbed my bags and started my journey back home.  This time, I got a more comfortable seat.  Also the bus was newer and air conditioned.  I really scored. After letting the driver know that I wanted to get off before the Avtovagzel, with help from my fellow passengers. I got off and walked the fifteen minutes home.  The buses will pretty much stop anywhere on their routes, including the side of the freeway.  This is a little odd, but incredibly helpful.

A street in the red village.  Looks very similar to those in Quba, but many have the Star of David instead of the Crescent Star. 

Next weekend, a trip to Mingachevir where there is a large reservoir. I've been told to bring my swimsuit.  This is a longer trip, but I will have company.

Patti

P.S. Azerbaijan words are not necessarily spelled correctly.  There are several letters that I should insert as symbols, but I'm a little lazy.



A typical day - part 2

I described a typical day during training and I want to post a new Daily Activity Schedule (DAS) as a volunteer.  I plan on posting this “typical day” format a few more times during my Peace Corps adventure.  In part, for me to review and see how it changes over the course of 27 months.  I have been a volunteer for about 4 weeks and have been at my site for just about 3 weeks. While I have a work schedule – I work from 9:30 – 4:00, four days a week at one organization.  As I get more comfortable and my language improves, I will expand my service. There is a lot less structure to my week.

My Monday thru Thursday DAS is as follows:

7:30-8:00 -wake up, get ready for the day, make and eat breakfast

8:45 – gather my bag, lunch and head out to work.  It is a 30 minute walk.  Right now the temperature averages in the 80-90’s so it is a toasty walk.

9:15 – arrive at work and say Salam

9:15-1:00 – talk with my counterpart and other staff members.  Look at information/data. Talk with the PCV that am overlapping with until October. Research. Study language.

1:00 – 1:30 lunch

1:30 – 4:00 more work

4:00 – 4:45 walk home.  I’m a little slower at night and often stop in at a store on my way home. I haven’t kicked my diet coke habit and indulge in one a day, in addition to my cups of tea.

On Fridays, I have a two hour tutoring session with my Azerbaijan language teacher.  She is due to move closer to my site in a couple of months and then I should have tutoring in person.  I need to bring my language skills up to intermediate – mid.  They are progressing.

Saturdays I've been exploring and Sundays I rest.

I have gone into Baku four times by myself and have had little adventures each time.  I’m getting a handle on the buses.  There doesn’t appear to be published schedules or routes.  I just ask people who know, including PCVs, my host family and co-workers.  The buses run often, but I need to factor in traffic and construction to get places on time. It also helps if I remember to bring my map.  Directions include behind the mosque near the Turkish Embassy, so time needs to be factored in for the preciseness of the directions.  I now feel comfortable getting to the Peace Corps office, the office by the mosque, a couple of universities and the old city. Right now I’m focusing on the bus system and next I’ll tackle metro. But since you can’t see landmarks in a subway tunnel, I’m staying above ground for now. 

Typical food has not changed much but the timing and serving has. Meals are served family style in the kitchen. I have kitchen privileges and that makes a world of difference.  Though grilled cheese is my only kitchen adventure to date.  I am, however, watching and assisting in the kitchen.

·         Breakfast

o   Yogurt & muesli

o   Eggs

o   Tea

·         Lunch

o   Leftovers – my office has a microwave (Yipee!!)

·         Dinner – lots of variety

o   Bread

o   Soup – not every dinner but often (I really like lentils)

o   Main dish

§  Dolma (grape leaf, cabbage leaf, tomato, eggplant, pepper)

§  Plov (rice dish – supposedly 140+ varieties)

§  Potatoes

§  Potato cutlet (hash browns with greens)

§  Eggplant – fried, steamed, with other stuff

§  Bulger and other grains

§  Salad – combination of cucumber, tomato, onion, pepper and greens

§  Usually some sort of meat (typically beef or chicken) in combination with one or more of the above

I’ve also had a couple of yogurt drinks, which are good in small quantities.

Lots and lots of tea.  Sometimes there is a light meal when I get home from work and then another meal between 8:00 and 9:00.

I’m eating small meals, I think primarily because it is so hot.  The last time I weighed myself, I had lost 15 pounds. I’m looking pretty good.

My family lives on a small salt lake.  The house is on a rise, so we get a nice breeze that really helps with the heat.  There is a wonderful garden, with fruits and vegetables and about 80 chickens.  Only 40 chickens belong to my immediate family, the other half belong to my host father's brother who lives next door. We are currently enjoying cucumber, greens and the tomatoes are starting to come in season.

 

Salam

---

 [