Gone with the Wind

I now sit here watching the reception bar on my computer flashing.  The Internet connection just dropped and my computer seems to have some hope that it will come back.  The computer’s attempt to regain a connection makes me hopeful that it will come back soon.  Honestly, I have begun to get used to the fact that the Internet, electricity and even the gas and water may stop at any moment for no seemingly apparent cause.  A few times I have come home to hear my mom say that the water has not come today and more often that the electricity is gone.  In the beginning of our service in wintertime I theorized that it happened because of weather phenomenon.   If this is the excuse I have come to adjust my definition of ‘phenomenon’ to include weather that is too cold, too hot, if the sun shines too bright, if its raining and certainly if it is too windy.  The electricity may just go with the wind.  Currently here in Azerbaijan there has been no scientific or specific measurement for ‘too much’ of any one particular condition, but when the electricity is gone too much of any one problem becomes really easy to say.  Oh and there is always the reason that the neighbor turned off your supply.  That one is legit.  And sometimes it is because the post office people are being lazy and aren’t allowing these things to reach the house.  The post office takes on a lot of responsibility in this country.  Regardless in conversation it still seems to take the blame for any lack of utilities or Internet. 

The lack of reliable, daily utilities can be the blamed on any adverse weather conditions but one thing is for certain, the infrastructure that supports these conveniences and necessities is not sufficient enough to support the population.  The situation is not more likely to occur if one lives in a more rural region, in fact I believe that it is more likely to happen in more populous areas.  I also live in a city and suspect that we lose electricity here more often than the surrounding villages do.  I have no concrete evidence of that though.  Here in Azerbaijan I experienced it and heard of it happening most in the suburb areas surrounding the capital.  Perhaps the larger the population the infrastructure must support, the less reliable the system. 

It seems ironic that a country with such a wealth in energy resources such as oil has problems supplying reliable electricity and even gas to their people.  In a typical day, more severely in one of these ‘adverse’ weather phenomena, the electricity may come and go three or four times.  Each time it could be gone for hours at a time.  After first arriving here I remember thinking something like Oh no, the electricity is out!  What can we do?  That thought stopped shortly after starting.  It is such a regular and daily occurrence.  It is regular enough that it happens that a routine reaction by most has been adapted.  It only takes a couple seconds to complete.  One looks up to the sky or as though looking directly up or at the light bulbs will perhaps allow us to rediscover the light as though it might just be hiding.  Once verifying that the light is in fact gone, we look side to side and make eye contact with people around you saying a phrase that means the light is gone, ishug sondu.  Some people say it as a statement and others ask in a question form.  Regardless we all know the reality.  The light is most definitely out and will be so for an undetermined amount of time. 

There is something comforting about the times when no power sources are running.  When the power is out everything becomes quiet.  Cars can still wiz by on streets and motorbikes muffler noises continue to rip through the air, but the space behind the walls becomes still.  Televisions, desktop computers and other energy spending, noise making machines all shut down and rest for a moment.  It took me a while to realize that this place is actually really noisy when all is running.  General volume levels, whether it is in people’s conversations or the level they listen to the television at is generally a decibel or two higher than what I think is necessary.  Quiet is familiar to me, I was raised in a quiet place by quiet people.  I find a comfort in the quiet space between times the electricity decides to work.  When the lights go out people come together.  I recall a couple times enjoying a cup of tea in the lightless room with my co-workers.  In the winter when it is cold, we gather in the living room of my home away from home.  So even if I find the unreliable electricity inconvenient, and I pray that no one has to live a cold winter without heat or any day of the year without water, I appreciate the times that we can all take a break from the noise and mindless use of our electric appliances.  It can bring people together. 

If you were wondering, yes this was written from the dark comfort of my room.  I had a little time and a quiet space to write.

Travel Buddies

In a big broad sense, the way you live your life does not just affect you.  It has an effect on so many others that you.  Sometimes it is a matter of close physical proximity.  While other times it is more a matter of being bonded to someone through an emotional or family relationship.  That part I have much to learn, but learn more and more about as I physically become more distant from family and friends in my homeland.  While on travels this past week with my site mates, it became really evident the impact that we have on each other.  We are all separate and very individual people from each other.  But when it comes to travel we are brought together closer and become much more interdependent on each other than we are even at our sites.  –I have known for sometime that traveling and exploring is really much more about the people that you meet than the places that you go along the way.  Stories of travels can only revolve around places and things for a short materialistic time.  In the end it comes down to the people.

Two such people that I have met a while ago, but have come to know better on this adventure are my site mates and friends, Leah and Gemma.  I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to spend time touring around, enjoying their company while seeing the sites of Georgia.  Indeed we are three very unique beings.  Being placed in the same region as these girls has allowed us, and sometimes forced us to spend time together and get to know each other a little better.  The unique lives we have lived before joining the Peace Corps has given us special perspectives that with an open mind and heart intent to love regardless, I think we will do well by each other.

Another woman that I am glad to have met on our journey was Dodo.  Our homestay at Dodo’s was pleasant and it was wonderful to get to meet this Georgian woman with fairly good English.  She was a delightful host, with some good stories and plenty of advice that I am sure has been rehearsed well from the many guests she has hosted.  As older woman, I am sure that Dodo has given the folks that pass through her home a unique and enjoyable visit to Georgia.  As well she offers a unique perspective having housed many travelers from all over the world in her house.  If her guests gain nothing else, at least they will get a good cup of Turkish coffee.

Several other interesting people that we met along the way include anything from marshrutka drivers who speak Portuguese to pant less hostel guests and Iranian beauties that travel for fun but work as artists in their daily lives.  Most of these people mentioned were ones that we stopped, talked with and spent just slightly more than a couple minutes in their company.  However it took colliding with several other people to make this whole adventure happen.  From the man at McDonalds to the lady who waved us on to what she assumed was our real destination and maybe mores so the beggars that hang around doorsteps and important entrances asking for charity.

There is no doubt that our adventure through Georgia and even Azerbaijan was spent together and the time was especially important for site mate bonding, It wouldn’t be a complete story disregarding mention of the other lives that cross this same path and help create the whole big adventure.   Great times with amazing travel buddies. 

My sitemates and I ready to embark on a hike while traveling in Georgia

About Time

It is all about that time.  It’s not only about time that I took time to write this blog, but it is also a part of the reason that there has been such a hesitation to begin this blog entry but it is really about time.

As I began to plan and anticipate this entry I sat back to think about my objective and reason for blogging.  What is the purpose of writing out these thoughts and sharing them with the Internet world?  Well, let me tell you.  -Why again do I blog?  Sometimes I need a refresher and a look back at the original intention to remember where I was going to with the activity.  I also thought it is about time that I jot down my goal and maybe a few objectives to achieve the goal. 

First and most evidently I intended my blog to be a means of sharing my experiences abroad.  Simple.  Goal noted.  Now I can blog, right?

It begins to get messier when considering if blogging about it is the best way to achieve the goal.  There are so many options- e-mail, Facebook, establishing a regular Skype connection, other social networks and even good old snail mail could do the trick.  With unreliable access to Internet regular Skype calls ruled themselves out.  With a lack of time and often energy, snail mail and for me- Facebook took a backseat.  E-mail and blogging are the most practical options.  Still restricted by time but realizing that this connection with family and friends back home requires me to make time and claim it for this purpose.  My first objective decided, use e-mail and blogging resources to relay messages to family and friends in other parts of the world.  Done and set. 

As I started a blog and began writing I realized that I was not about to write everything that crossed my mind and some of my true feelings.  Regardless of where I have been it has required me to learn something, open my mind to new perspectives, embrace ambiguity and all is best when I consider others above myself.  Understanding these requires that I be very intentional in blogging as anyone in the entire world is welcome to read this blog that I established.  I wanted to write as though friends and co-workers in different cultures were all reading this.  My goal in blogging needed to be slightly modified.  I now intend to use my blog as a means of sharing experiences abroad without intending to offend any one person or culture.

With the larger goal and my intended objective in mind I sat down to write and realized that my audience was an important consideration before beginning any post.  If this were a letter, who would I address this to?  I know, how about some family and friends?  Yes I am addressing this to my family and friends, but I must also consider this an open message that anyone could hear.  The blog I intended to create was something meant to be open to anyone to see if they so choose.  Therefore even though the message may be for family and friends it must also carefully consider anyone who has access to these posts.  I guess that is anyone in the world.  Consider that.  I’ll just save the extra personal notes for emails and letters home.  Yes, it is set.

For those visual folks out there a few pictures must be included to spice things up a bit.  Sometimes words fail to tell the story that the eyes can capture in a short moment of viewing.  Yes indeed, pictures are a must.

One last important objective is to make it relevant to time.  Once or twice I have been asked if I worked well in unstructured environments.  Up until my time abroad I would have leaned towards yes in my answer.  However the truth is I do appreciate a little structure.  If the situation does not provide, I will just have to create my own structure.  Blogging and sharing this experience in this type of forum is not something that comes natural to me.  My objective is to post at least once a month.  I promise. Wow, with a little sorting and modifications I feel more ready to blog than ever!  Something like that… but blog I shall!  If ever I forget my purpose in doing so, I will just recall this particular post from this time.  My blog is a means of sharing experiences abroad with family and friends by posting pictures and stories at least once a month with intention not to offend any one person or culture. 

It’s about time.  Blog on.

Give a Little Trust

Earlier this week on my walk to work I came up next to a little girl walking and as I was about to pass her, the little’s girl’s mother yelled out to me.  At first I wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted but with the help of the Pictionary-like game we were playing and few Azerbaijani words that I knew related to the subject I came to the conclusion that she wanted me to walk with her little girl to a school just up the way.  I agreed and walked beside the little girl, asking her questions about where she was going, what classes she takes at school, and inquired what she thought of the weather.  It was a simple conversation, but a led to a crashing conclusion of the trust people place in one another.  Trust is a big thing.  Consider the amount of trust that it takes to form a relationship with someone.  Whether that is a dear friend or a life partner, people place trust in another to handle an expectation that we’ve formed of the relationship.  This can be loosely defined or more abstract in meaning.  For example, in a marriage two people probably consider the vows that they took to be binding.  These two people make a promise to uphold and commit to the promises that they make before their family, friends and God.  Now consider the different types of friendships that you have.  You have a colorful rainbow of friendships!  You also probably do not have the same expectations of close friends as you do with more distant friends.  You have different expectations, and therefore different levels of trust amongst different friends.  Trust can also be culturally defined.  The lady whom I did not know entrusted me to walk a ways with her child.  She has no idea who I am or what I am capable of, or not.  Yet she trusted.  As I walked away from the situation I concluded that she probably trusted me simply because I am a lady.  She probably would never have asked a guy to do the same thing, but my female status puts me in a position to relate more readily to her, and therefore to be trusted.  In this particular instance this may say more about the trust that this particular woman places in other women.  She also may also actually know who I am without me having never met her.  I live in a small town.  –Also, relevantly did you know that money is only as valuable as people collectively believe it to be?  It can be a complicated thing, but a professor of mine once talked about currency value in class.  I think I even heard something relevant in a movie one time.  It is interesting that the faith and trust we put in something like currency can make all the difference in its value.  Expanding on this idea, the more people trust that a dollar will consistently provide for whatever their expectations might be, the more the people invest in the dollar and in turn the more valuable the dollar becomes.  This is of course a simple and of my own understanding, in reality the calculating currency value probably means more than I understand at the current time.  In a parallel example, perhaps we place trust in people because we expect that the expectation we have of them will be met.  I believe that in reality he more we entrust someone the more likely this person is to become more inertly trustworthy.  Another fine learning lesson can come of this.  The concept of trust lives within each of us even if we don’t know the word.  This is so in my case at least.  Now where did I put my Azerbaijani dictionary?  


If someone has ever placed trust in you, and you somehow didn’t meet the expectation then the value of trust was made known to you.  However on the brighter side, truly knowing the value enables one to do remarkable things fueled on simple trust.  The real lesson learned is simple.  Trust in others around you.  For you to trust sometimes it means setting your pride aside long enough to hand control to someone else.  Uncommon trust in someone may just make their day and inspire new trustworthiness.  Thank you sidewalk lady for trusting in me to take your child to school.

A Day In The Life Of

First off I should note that Azerbaijani life is different in ways that I never expected.  Before arriving here I thought perhaps this may be like that, and different traditions would be practiced.  It is also a Muslim culture.  I am still learning about what that means.  I am realizing that it includes major assumptions about gender roles and peoples’ attitudes.  Life is different here than in America for sure, the people value different culture aspects in different ways than I do, but above all they are people.  They have the ability to reason and react.  It seems silly to say, but I feel that I didn’t credit that enough to folks initially.  I think I assumed that our differences would dominate relationships.  But rather it is common grounds that most of my interactions with others occur within.

A typical day starts at 7:30 or 8 in the morning.  While at my permanent site it has been winter all the while.  I do not have heat in my room, so I wear a hat, scarf, gloves, a couple pairs of thick socks, a couple layers of clothes and wrap my body tightly in a couple blankets before tucking into a thick sleeping bag. It seems almost extreme to write it out, but it definitely gets cold here and these measures I find to be necessary.  It actually has been a really great opportunity to truly be grateful for the times when I am warm.  At first it was exciting (something like camping!), then I was grouchy about the situation, and I am glad to say that I have found a place where I can appreciate it.  On the extra bright side, at least it is never stuffy.  The air is always crisp in my room!

I love when I wake up a few minutes before my alarm clock.  I always loved that in the States, but here the potential for it is more likely.  I never got a lot of sleep in the States, and here I get plenty.  My sister and I have talked about how important this is.  At Purdue there were some nights when I had so much work to do that I had to stay up nearly the whole night.  A few nights like that in a row and I was running on pure faith. It was mentally, physically, and inevitably emotionally stressful.  I will take advantage of the time that I get to sleep, and sleep well here.  I don't oversleep, but rather try to get just enough.  Even on the weekends I don’t sleep in.  I want to make use of the daytime.  It’s all about balance.

If I am able to wake a few minutes early, I peek my eyes out from under my sleeping bag.  Take a deep cold breath in and begin to come back to the real world where I realize that yes in fact I am in Azerbaijan and yes I must get out of bed soon.  Just five more minutes..  I really do not spend a lot of time getting ready.  I never spent much time earlier, but for different reasons.  I try to make the amount of time I spend changing as short as possible so I don’t have to bare the cold for any longer than necessary.  I will likely change into the same outfit that I wore the day before.  I only have a few work appropriate outfits to choose from for most days.  It is common for most people to wear the same outfit for a week at a time.  Someone might wear the same pants to work for a month in a row.  However, everyone dresses nicely.  Imagine it, girls wear heels to school and nice black dresses or sleek pants everyday.  Even the farmers in the fields wear suits and dress shoes.  Initially it was something that really stood out to me.  I am definitely loosing sight to it, but I still recognize that everyone dresses nicely.  I do not fit in at all.  Even in my best effort to dress nicely I always come in last.  This is okay with me.  I just hope that I don’t offend too many people by appearing that I don’t care enough or purposefully meant to be disrespectful.

The thought process was short-lived and I pull on something similar to what I wore the day before.  I run my fingers through my hair and attempt to fix the damage a good nights sleep can do to ones hair.  It never is too spectacular, but I must get moving and I know that I will just put my hat back on for the walk to work.  –I grab my bag that I packed the night before, grab my laptop, and pick up my coat before heading to the living room area where it is sure to be much warmer.  I slip quietly into the living room, because for the winter it doubles as my host brother’s bedroom.  He also doesn’t have heat in his normal room, but has chosen to hibernate in the living room for the cold months.  My host brother works a shift at the big milk factory in town.  Jobs are hard to come by here, so he doesn’t complain too loudly about the hours and the shifts that change.  He works evenings and mornings on alternating weekends.  I creep into the room and it is evident that someone has been up earlier.  It was probably my host mom.  The water kettle is warming on the ‘petch’ (or a stove-like heater in the middle of the room), cheese (nothing like anything I knew in the States), and bread are sitting on the table ready to be eaten. 

Before I can eat or drink anything though, I must visit the restroom!  I scurry through another door and down the steps and outside.  I slip on some slipper like sandals that are made big enough for my dad and head over to the small stand alone room in the corner of the yard.  What one will see behind the door is nothing that will soon be making any technology advancement news.  It is a hole in the ground. I am sure you can imagine the next steps.  –I am not exactly sure how it works for everyone else, but I am the only one who insists on using toilet paper.  There is a sink with freezing water to rinse off my hands before heading back to the house to enjoy a cup of tea before heading to work.

Unfortunate side story related to the toilet. I lost my telephone to the hole.  It was a dark night, and the end of my phone.

My walk to work has become the talk of my office mates.  In the first week I was able to get a ride from them, but I have since established my independence and begun to walk to and from work.  The walk is a half hour one way.  However I take these moments of time to learn new paths and travel different ways to get to the office.  I enjoy learning the city in this way and I appreciate every minute of time that I can spend outside and walking.  I have a circuit path that takes an hour to walk from home to work.  If I awake earlier enough, or leave the office in time I am able to take this way. My walk to work can be the best part of my day, and other some days it is certainly not the highlight. 

This I must explain.  My walk to work has become several things.  Foremost it is a humbling learning experience.  –First off, I love my walk because at the moment it is my only form of exercise.  It is a chance to move and breath air beyond four walls.  In the States running and just walking outside were stress relievers and considered good things.  Here the attitude towards physical exercise is not the same.  And what a shame!  When I arrive at work my cheeks are usually beaming red and everyone feels the need to point it out.  Its cute and fun for the first couple weeks, but after a certain amount of time is just becomes the same old routine.  Even so, I entertain it and have learned that there is a saying about healthy mountain people and their red cheeks.  Since exercise and walking too much are not desired free time activities by anybody native to this place, everyone assumes that my walk must be the worst part of my day.  My language is still weak, but I try to explain that I actually really enjoy it and I want to walk.  My back-up justification is that it is a way to learn my way around town.  I am not sure how long that excuse will work.  –I will exercise in my room and start a bike-riding club when the weather gets warm enough to take showers regularly.  Currently I am at one shower a week.  I have my fingers crossed that the showers stay at this rate.  Some volunteers go much longer without a shower!

Another reason my walk has become the talk has a more negative appeal to gender roles here in Azerbaijan.  Simply put, women are not to walk about outside.  It is inappropriate.  Women in general stay in the house. They most certainly do not drive, so walking is their alternative is walking.  However for young women to be seen walking around town (even if it was innocently to work or school) could be viewed as promiscuous.  The public sphere outside the walls of a family’s walls is really a man’s world.  Young men and boys hang out on the streets and sidewalks and smoke.  There are no places that women can ‘hang out’ outside of homes.  There are restaurants and teahouses that men go to hang out, talk, smoke, and of course drink tea.  I have a host brother that stays out at all hours of the night.  He comes and goes as he pleases.  However I am expected to be in before dark and of course there is no appropriate reason for me to spend any time anywhere but home and work.  No one smiles and there is little talk on the streets.  I am learning, but I see that women especially walk with blank stares at the sidewalk or straight ahead as though they could be walking through a cloud.  The absolute worst part of being a foreigner is that many people stare.  They don’t smile or say hello, even women but especially men stare.  They watch you coming and I can feel their eyes follow me as I walk on past.  As my language improves I am realizing that sometimes boys and young men say really rude comments as I pass by.  Coming from a place in Indiana where is considered polite to acknowledge peoples’ presence, strangers and friends alike in passing to a place where that same behavior is perceived in the exact opposite way is really difficult for me.  The longer I am here and the more I talk to others and get to know people I understand more and more about why this is accepted.  In not acknowledging, or greeting people as people pass is seen as a sign of respect for people’s personal space in the public sphere.  For me it has also been huge in learning the reality of differences in how men and women live and the starkly different roles they are expected to play.  Regardless it is still a difficult aspect of living Azerbaijani life.

The differing gender roles are a prominent theme that reigns supreme in projects that the volunteers undertake.  Talking with girls and young women we can see how this accepted role that men and women play is often accepted and most often submitted to. This is a reality of what life is like here in Azerbaijan even though it is something that I find difficult to appreciate.  It is also a very important reason I and other American volunteers should be here.

Anyway I somehow arrive at work.  There is a system to greeting everyone.  The men get a handshake and I give a weak handshake and kiss on the cheek for the ladies.  It happens everyday in the same way and takes up a good portion of the being of work.  A solid half hour (or more depending on how cold it is) is spent greeting and making small talk.  We don’t have a water cooler so we stand around the heater in the middle of the room.  As best I can understand everyone talks about their families, prices of things, weddings, and illnesses.

My office is actually a very organized place.  They have tasks to accomplish each day.  Right now there is a lull in work 1) because its cold, and 2) some budget things need adjusted to get a master schedule in place.  I have a couple things to do with translations and researching some things that are more available in English.  I absolutely love visiting the field.  Time with farmers is the best!  Beyond introductions I might as well be a fly on the wall, but I enjoy the time that I get to be in the villages regardless. 

Lunchtime rolls around at 1 everyday.  My family, my work, and it seems that every business in town recognizes the same lunch hour.  There is a beauty to it, but just remember that nothing will be open at this time.  Since I am a lady I have decided to stay with the other ladies (there are three others at the office) and eat lunch in the office.  There is a kitchen at the office that we heat up our foods and enjoy a cup of tea before going back to work.  –This time can actually be stressful for me though.  I realize that no matter what I choose to bring to eat, it is never enough.  The other ladies will always feed me.  After a couple days of this I began to think that I must bring more and more complicated foods (I tried bringing oatmeal and eggs on different days and they did not like that).  I felt guilty eating their foods.  But after a significant amount of time and bringing larger portions of more meal like foods, but still being fed by the other ladies I see that it is not really about the food.  There is a beautiful thing about sharing your food with those around you.  Everyone in the office does it with candies and sometimes cookies at teatime.  There is a saying that means something like to share what you have is a beautiful life.  Even though I am not very good at carrying little candies with me at all times to share with others, I realize that accepting these gifts is one way to validity others’ feelings and for wanting to share what they have.  It is actually a really beautiful thing.

A couple days in the week I do other activities within the community.  One is my Azerbaijani lesson, and the other is co-leading an English conversation club.  Both of these events are good to spice up the week.  Comparatively life here definitely lives in the slow lane.  So I am excited for any change in the schedule.  I hope this week will be the beginning of a semester of Friday mornings in a first form English class at my Azerbaijani teacher’s school.  They children are something like first graders, and I have been there once and know that they are going to be so much fun!  The English club that my site mates and I co-lead at a local community center is a favorite weekly event.  One week we had 10 kids show, and another week we had just three.  It varies in the folks that come and their English levels.  Interesting enough, it is always a learning opportunity for all of us.

When the workday is done I scoot home.  As long as I have feet that work I insist on walking.  Being a volunteer I am not required to be at the office all day.  I figure I might as well come early in the mornings, but my evening leaving times vary depending on what else is happening, or if I need to do laundry.  I feel like Cinderella though.  I have to be home by dark.  Even though this norm feels very restricting I don’t want to be out past dark.  There is an especially large population of men and boys that fill the streets.  Outside in the dark is not a place that I want to be.  A couple times I have ridden in a car around town with my family after dark I have gotten a small glimpse of life in the Azerbaijan darkness.

Evenings can range from really quiet to very busy.  I spend the time in my home or the neighbors.  Typically though my family will watch hours and hours of really interesting Turkish drama television.  I usually sit with my family and type away on my computer.  I have watched enough of these shows to see what they are all about.  They are drama filled with love triangles and plenty of domestic violence.  They also have really cheesy face shots of all the characters involved in a scene.  Imagine it. Ten characters all take place in the same scene and witness the same thing.  The event is replayed and each person gets his or her face of the screen for a five consecutive seconds.  My family seems to really enjoy them though…

Weekends are usually especially calm.  I have two volunteers near my site and we have spent at least a day on each weekend together.  We get together, speak English, and usually make some old familiar foods.  It has proven to be a really good time.  I am really lucky to have two really awesome girls for site mates.  They are cool cats.  –We are all so different too.  Part of what the Peace Corps attempt to do is represent the diverse population of the United States.  There are three volunteers in the Agjabedi region, me, Leah and Gemma.  Both Leah and Gemma are here are English teachers.  Different regardless, it is an amazingly stretching experience and opportunity to realize that building relationships really has little to do with demographics.  Again that sounds silly to write down, but it is incredible the thought process that just being here and living is sure to bring an about some thoughts on.

To finish off any day, I muster up the courage to reenter my cold room, pile on the layers and climb back into the sleeping bag.  Most likely I will break out the flashlight and read a little before drifting off to sleep.  In a few hours the day will start again.  …Just as soon as I get the courage to crawl back out of the covers.